Sweet Ache

by K. Bromberg

  He leans in and brushes a tender kiss on my lips, so paranoid to touch me anywhere else for fear it might hurt me. I fist my hand in his hair and as much as my muscles scream, I can’t resist pulling him in closer so that we can lose ourselves in each other, sear the commitment of this moment in our minds and weave it around our hearts.

  “When you feel better,” he murmurs against my lips, “I’m taking you on this piano.”

  “Still working on finishing the band, are we?” I arch an eyebrow, feeling such a surge of emotion and love for this man before me.

  “Sweetness, we’ve got a whole helluva lot of instruments to play yet.”

  He places a lingering kiss on my lips that causes that ache to settle deep in my belly. I lean back and look into his storm-cloud gray eyes. “The only Play I want is the one right in front of me.”

  Chapter 39

  QUINLAN

  “So here’s the schedule.” Hawke lays a calendar on the table in front of me. The ocean breeze rustles it some so I take it in my hands and hold it up to look at Bent’s tour schedule over the next few weeks. The cities and venues are marked on each day and then every few days feature bright red asterisks in pen that have no rhyme or reason.

  “Thank you,” I say distractedly to the waitress as she sets down my drink. After gazing at the calendar for another minute, I still can’t figure out the red marks that bleed all over the page. “What are …?” My thought trails off when I lift my eyes and meet Hawkin’s.

  He’s staring at me beneath the shield of a baseball cap, the bruise on his face almost gone now, and I can see the amusement mixed with love in his eyes clear as day. A soft smile curls up one side of his mouth as the moment stretches on. “Figure it out yet?”

  “The red?”

  “Mm-hm.” He nods his head and tips back the bottle of beer to his lips. There’s no specific pattern and the closer I scrutinize the dates, they cover over two-thirds of the days on the tour. I look back up at him, eyes narrowed, and shrug. Hawke leans forward and kisses me. “I’m making it count, Trixie,” he murmurs against my lips before leaning back to see my reaction. “I thought you might want to come cause trouble with me.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest because my love for him has grown stronger with each passing day. I can feel my mouth fall lax in surprise before spreading into a beaming grin. “Really? You want me to come visit you on tour?”

  “Yep,” he nods. “You’ll be on winter break most of the time and I thought you might want to get away. That and … well, I figured if we’re making a band together, it’s only natural that it travels a bit.”

  “Of course. Every band has to tour,” I tease, but I’m also blinking back the tears that burn in my throat. His admission that he wants me with him makes me feel like I’m walking on air. For a man so used to pushing everyone away, he sure as hell is doing a great job of keeping me close. It’s my turn to press a kiss to his lips. “I think I can manage being one of your groupies for a bit.”

  “Well, you did dress me up like an eighties hair band,” he teases, “so I get to dress you up as a road ho so that you can fit in.”

  “Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Short skirts, high heels, no panties, teaching me the soundboard in small alcoves,” I murmur as the memory of our tryst fills my head and turns me on.

  “I like alcoves,” he groans under his breath and I love that I do that to him.

  I point to a day where there is no asterisk. “Why not this day? This day works for me too.”

  “Well, I have another groupie signed up for that day,” he deadpans, earning a punch in his shoulder. He dodges me with laughter and grabs my hand, pulling me close to him.

  “No you don’t, Play!” I struggle against him in jest but I surrender willingly when he uses his kiss as the means of negotiation. “I just might have to get a thing for lead guitarists then.”

  His mouth opens in shock and I take full advantage. My hand is fisted in his shirt in an instant and my tongue slips between his parted lips. Damn the man can kiss me senseless.

  Hawkin’s fingertips slide over my thighs and pull my chair so that my knees fit between his legs. He leans back and looks at me with that rock god smirk that turns me inside out. “Lead singer trumps guitarist any day.”

  “I thought it was rocker trumps racer?” His fingers grip my hips in a hint of what he wants to do to me when we leave the Surf Shack where we’re eating our lunch.

  “Sweetness, I’ll trump anything you like as long as—” I cut him off with my kiss again.

  “Is this the asshole rocker?”

  My brother’s voice shocks us apart and every part of me wants to whirl around and tell him to take his protective-brother bullshit down a notch because I’ve got this handled, but I don’t because I’m too busy watching Hawke. And God how I love the fact that even though my heart feels like it was jump-started from cardiac arrest, Hawkin’s hands stay firmly in place on my thighs and his eyes meet mine before slowly shifting to the voice behind me.

  “Colton.” He nods his head, the back the fuck off warning apparent in his stare.

  “Oh chill out!” It’s Rylee’s voice that has me turning with a wide smile on my lips. Of course I love my brother, love how he takes care of me, but I love how Rylee puts him in his place even more.

  I shift out of my chair and stand to wrap my arms around her. She leans back and raises her eyebrows in approval when her eyes dart over to Hawke. “What is it with you and hot men?” she whispers with a devilish smirk on her lips.

  “You must be Hawkin,” she says as she releases me. I turn to face Colton. He angles his head and looks at me before watching Rylee take a seat next to Hawkin and start up a conversation.

  “The paper flattened out enough, I take it?” he asks in that gruff voice that tells me he’s trying to be a hard-ass but at the same time is glad I figured my shit out and got the outcome I wanted.

  “Yeah,” I whisper in his ear as I pull him into a hug. “Thank you.” He just squeezes me a bit tighter in response.

  “Remember what I said?”

  When I lean back and stare at him, his warning about having a talk with Hawkin should things work out comes flooding back. As much as I dread the idea, I know that it’s Colton’s way of showing he loves me. “Go easy on him.” My request earns me a wry chuckle.

  Rylee doesn’t break stride in chatting up Hawkin about his upcoming tour when we take a seat at the table. I’m far from blind and so I catch the intermittent glances that Hawkin and Colton share, each one laying claim to my protection.

  As the topic comes to a close, Hawkin shifts his attention completely to my brother. “So Colton, lay it on me, man.”

  Holy shit. Both Rylee and I startle and whip our heads at Hawkin, who’s going boldly where no man has gone before. And the fact that Colton chokes on his sip of beer makes it that much sweeter.

  Colton sets his beer down and his eyes are locked on Hawkin’s. “Wanna get something off your chest, man?”

  I roll my eyes at Colton’s testosterone-laced question and love how Ry quirks her eyebrow at him in a come on gesture.

  “Nope.” Hawke shakes his head a couple of times, and I love that he’s not backing down and is playing Colton at his own game. That I mean enough to him to take a stand. “But I think you do.”

  Silence stretches, and both Rylee and I are fighting smirks over the invisible battle the two men that we love are waging. “Q’s need to protect you from me is a first and tells a whole helluva lot about what she thinks of you…. But no bullshit, man, no one’s ever going to be good enough for her, so sorry—but I’m not sorry because that’s the breaks. You’ve got a lot to prove.” Colton pauses to reinforce his words. And as much as I hate this, I love this. Love that Colton is laying down the law and being a big brother, and that Hawkin’s letting him. Colton glances over to me and then back to Hawke. “My sister’s a big girl, she can take care of herself, but flat out, if you fuck with her again, you’ll have to
deal with me.”

  “Colton!” I kick him under the table and enjoy the grunt he emits in return.

  “Nah, it’s cool,” Hawke says as he stands and reaches across the table and holds out his hand. “I understand. Deal?”

  Colton eyes Hawke’s hand for a moment, working his tongue in his cheek before standing to shake his hand. Their hands grip tightly, gazes lock, and trust is passed from begrudging brother to a worthy lover.

  I glance up at my sister-in-law across from me and she mouths, “So he’s the one, huh?”

  I nod subtly and feel stupid for the tears that suddenly spring to my eyes when I realize that she’s absolutely right. Hawkin is the one. He’s my one. I guess I believe in fairy-tale endings after all, so long as I can write my own ending….

  And I sure as hell am going to make sure this ending counts for us.

  Epilogue

  HAWKIN

  “You didn’t have to come here with me,” I tell her as we stand at the nurse’s station. I look over at her, blond curls piled on top of her head, pink lips, hand in mine, and fuck, I just stare. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

  And I don’t understand why under these fluorescent lights surrounded by the medicinal smell, it hits me. I’ve looked at her hundreds of times before—naked, clothed, blushing, moaning, pissed, sad, sleepy, coming—and yet maybe it’s me that’s changed because right now as clichéd as it sounds, it’s like I am seeing her for the first time. When I brought her here before, I was trying to prove a point. She called my cards to the table, thought I was cheating on her, and little did I know that taking her to see my mom would shift my whole goddamn world off its predetermined axis.

  But now, the first time I’ve brought her back here since that day, things have changed. I’ve changed.

  Every woman is beautiful in some way or another, it just takes the right man to see it in them. I guess I’ve finally become that man now because when I look at her, I’m absolutely smitten.

  And that’s a fucking scary thought for me.

  But I’ve realized that the burdens I’ve carried on my shoulders for a lifetime weren’t mine to bear. Hunter and I will both continue to live with demons from the day our dad sealed his fate, but my brother’s problems are not mine to deal with. I can’t fix things for him anymore. Fuck yes it hurts having him out of my life, but looking at Quinlan I know how much more it would hurt if I hadn’t made it to her house in time.

  His love is supposed to be unconditional but what I see in Quin’s eyes and know from the guys is ten times more absolute than I’ve ever felt from him.

  She smiles softly at me, telling me with her eyes that she remembers what happened the last time we were here together, and that she was there for me then and will be here for me now. She reaches out and links her fingers with mine. “I know I don’t have to be, but one, you had to put up with my brother the other day. And most important, I want to be,” she says, answering my question. “I need to get all the time with you I can. You’re going to be gone for way too long. Like, three days before I join you in Seattle, and I’m gonna miss you like crazy … You’re going to be sick of me by the time your flight leaves.” She presses a soft kiss to my lips and I can’t describe the feelings that stir within me at hearing her say that.

  With Hunter serving time now and my mom most likely not able to remember me, it’s such an incredible feeling to know someone here wants me home while we’re on this quick mini-tour.

  “Hm, don’t think that’s possible,” I tell her, the stupidly silly grin on my face feeling strangely normal.

  “You can go in now, Hawke,” Beth says as she walks back toward us, interrupting our conversation.

  “Thanks.” I nod to her and take a deep breath, trying to prepare for the unknown that’s always prevalent during these visits. Our past few visits, just mom and me, have been uneventful, but it is still heartbreaking for me to love a woman who has no idea who I am. But I can’t leave town without seeing her. I have to say good-bye to her every time because if I didn’t and something happened, it would be my biggest regret.

  Quinlan rubs a hand up and down the length of my back in silent reassurance as I turn the handle and enter her room. She’s sitting by her beloved window, staring at the world outside. I force a swallow down my throat as I step toward her cautiously.

  “Mom,” I call to her gently as I let her see me standing there before I slowly lower myself into the seat in front of her.

  “Hi there,” she says, a smile lighting up her face as she turns toward me. “My Joshy and I are going to have babies soon. Twins. And then you can call me that but for now I’m Helen. How do you do?” she asks me, extending one hand while the other hand rubs protectively over her nonexistent belly.

  My heart squeezes and the smile is bittersweet on my lips as I see a glimpse of the mom I used to remember before the suicide. I reach out and take her hand, savoring the rarity of her gentle touch. “I’m well, thank you. Twins, huh?”

  “Yes, two boys. I’m thinking Hunter and Hawkin after their grandmothers’ surnames but I’m not sure. I told Josh, that’s my husband”—she says with a beaming smile, her love for my dad so evident that the pang hits me, knowing now what he did to her. But I also find an odd sense of peace with the fact that they did in fact have a real love once. And maybe, just maybe, he realized it after he had strayed and couldn’t risk losing it—“that it’s a rather unique name, Hawkin, and do we really want to burden a boy with that? He said it’s a unique name because he’s going to make a name for himself with it one day. Only time will tell but I have no doubt he will be something, the way he kicks me.” She laughs softly, completely mesmerized with her love for her sons.

  For me.

  “I think Hawkin is a great name,” I murmur captivated, trying to fight back the tears welling in my eyes over a small piece of my prior life that I never knew. I’m filled with so many things right now, most of all gratitude for having this moment with her after all of the ones packed with spite. A little bit of the real her to hold on to.

  “I do too. Kind of funny, though, when you think of it, Hunter and Hawke—predator and prey. One who attacks and one who protects. Hm. No matter.” She waves her hands in a gesture of irrelevance and I love getting the chance to hear her thoughts. “I love them dearly already. I can’t wait to hear them call me ‘Mommy’ someday.” The hope in her voice and excitement in her eyes overwhelm me so the word slips out before I can catch it and potentially ruin the moment and cause her confusion.

  “Mommy.” It’s barely a whisper, and for a split second I freeze but when I see her face light up, I can finally breathe. I glance over to Quin who is standing by the doorway, observing from afar, a slight smile on her face.

  “Exactly,” she says, not understanding the significance of what I said, that she just in her roundabout way told me she loves me. I feel a little more whole, a little less empty.

  She glances over my shoulder at the clock on the wall, and pats at her hair. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, but you need to be getting on your way now. My Joshua is taking me out for a date tonight and I need to get ready for him. Besides, you don’t want to keep that pretty lady of yours over there waiting,” she says, flicking her eyes in the direction of Quinlan. “Us women like to be paid attention to.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I tell her, our eyes meeting for a beat, before I stand from the chair. And I can’t resist, something in her eyes, in the moment, has me squatting down in front of her. Her eyes narrow for a moment, but she doesn’t pull away from me when I reach out and place my hand on top of hers. “I think your boys are going to love you more than you’ll ever know. I think they already do.” I choke on my own words, on the emotion that clogs in my throat, and the need for her to know in the hopes on those days when her brain allows her to be present, she can carry the knowledge with her.

  “What a sweet thing for you to say,” she says, angling her head. It takes her a moment but she slowly lowers her eyes to my han
d on hers and then places her other hand on top of mine, sandwiching it in between her palms. We sit there for a beat, me absorbing the gentle and longed-for touch from my mother and recommitting it to memory.

  She raises her eyes back up to mine and there is a clarity in the gray color that I haven’t seen in what feels like forever. In that moment our connection feels so real I almost believe she can remember me. I lean forward and press a kiss to her hand on top of mine, half expecting her to slap me, half not sure what to expect.

  I keep my lips there for a beat, desperately wanting her to wrap her arms around me, pull me close, but know I have to take what I can get and this … this is ten times more than I’ve gotten in so very long. I just want it to last. But I know it won’t because she has a date with her beloved Joshy.

  And the thought hits me that the date she has might have significance. That she might be communicating to me she knows her body is failing her. I hate the thought that creeps through my mind but I can’t shake it. Can’t get it out of my head.

  I look up to my mother and say the words I need her to know, that I need to know I told her. “I love you, Mom. More than you’ll ever know.” I choke back the sob that tries to force its way out as all of the need for a mother’s love comes flooding back with a vengeance.

  She gets the strangest look on her face, almost as if I’m crazy. “Oh, Hawke, don’t be silly,” she says, shooing me away, but I’m rooted still as her words hit my ears, as she tells me she remembers me. “You act like you’re not going to see me again. I’m just running to the store. You know I love you, you silly boy. To the moon and back.”

  The tear leaks over and slides down my cheek, the smile tasting bittersweet on my lips as my mom gives me the only thing I’ve needed from her in the past five years. She may still think of me as a little boy in her mind but she’s just given me the greatest gift. She’s stitched closed the wounds in my soul with those simple words, made me the most complete person I’ve been in the longest time.