Miles Apart (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock Book 2) (18 page)

I
heard a loud banging and sat straight up in bed. I pulled at the cord around my
neck and realized that it must have been music that had startled me awake. I
twisted my shoulders and neck. Everything inside screamed at me, begging me to
wake up from the nightmare I had fallen so unexpectedly into. I slowly sat up
in bed, taking a moment for my eyes to sweep across the surrounding room,
another room that wasn’t my own. My legs moved slowly toward the edge of the
bed, sore from overdoing it, pushing myself too hard again. I picked up my
phone and opened up my photos, all too aware that it would only cause me
further pain, but still unable to stop myself. This was how I started every
morning. Every morning since the night I walked out of our house three months
ago. Some days it seemed like only yesterday, other days it felt like a lifetime.

I
scrolled through the photos in the album labeled
Honey,
and found the
one I had been looking for, the one that called to me, beckoning me to her, the
one that had been so ingrained in my memory that I didn’t even need to see it
physically, but still I looked at it. Stared at it. Touched it. Absorbed it.
Loved it.

It
was a photo of us, taken on our last night together on the beach, back when she
first visited. She was on my back, and we were laughing, her chin tucked
closely into my neck, love in her eyes. She was beautiful. We were in love then
and didn’t even fully realize how to pursue a long distance relationship, or if
it would even work, but we had somehow made it happen. The ache in my chest
returned, I ground the heel of my hand deep against it, trying like hell to rub
it away, but it was no use. It wasn’t the kind of pain that could be physically
touched or wiped away. This pain stemmed from a loss that had cut so deep I
wasn’t even sure it could be removed, or if I even wanted it gone. This pain
may have hurt, but it was the only physical reminder I had of her, the only
tangible thing I had left to prove that our love had even existed.

From
the moment I met her I had been drawn to her, like a powerful magnet, unable to
pull away, not that I wanted to. She consumed me. My thoughts. My dreams. My
hopes. My music. My entire world belonged to her. And without her next to me,
it felt pointless to keep going. I threw my phone, letting it hit the wall and
leaving a dent before it fell to the floor. My gaze shifted over to the table
in the corner of the next room, more specifically, to the bottle that sat in
the middle of it, unopened and beckoning me over. An empty glass sat beside it,
waiting. I had placed them both there last night, intending to give myself over
to the emptiness. Without Brooke, I had nothing left to live for.

I
stood and made my way over to the table, unable to resist the draw any longer. I
cracked open the bottle. The smell permeated my nostrils immediately, reminding
me how long it had been since my last drink. I poured off a shot and held it
out in front of me, swirling it around and watching as the light reflected off
the amber liquid within the heavy tumbler. I held the glass to my lips, staring
into the bottom for a few moments, trying to remember the taste of its contents,
and the burn that followed. I closed my eyes, prepared myself to throw back my
head, and saw her face. I saw the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled. Saw
the way the color flushed her cheeks when she got embarrassed. The way her lips
parted right before she kissed me. I squeezed them tighter, trying to shut out
the happiest memories of my life before I gave in and made it disappear, if
only for today. If I couldn’t have her in my life, then I didn’t want to keep
living.

RING!
RING! RING! The sound of the phone startled me, causing me to drop the glass. Contents
gushed out over the table before me. I ignored it, not ready to allow anyone
else into my world of misery. For a moment it stops, silence returns to the
space around me, and I’m faced with a decision. Do I pour another glass? Just
then, the phone rings again, and I slowly rise out of the chair and make my way
over to where it lies on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over, half
expecting it to be Travis or Dek reminding me of our rehearsal time, but it’s
neither of them. In fact, it’s the last person I would have expected, but the
only one I want to talk to right now. The only voice I ever long to hear. I
swipe a finger across the screen and hold the phone to my ear, unaware that I
have stopped breathing.

“Sebastian…”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Brooke~

"Sebastian? Are you there? Hello?" I
asked quietly, only hearing silence in return. I knew that he was on the other
end. I could hear him breathing, ever so shallowly. Finally, he acknowledged
me.

"Hi."
He answered, softly. He sounded tired, and withdrawn. My heart ached at the
lonely sound of his voice.

"Hi?
Is that all I get after all this time? No
it's great to hear your voice
or
I sure have missed you
?" I asked, teasingly. I wasn't quite sure
what I was going to say, but I was certain that this hadn't been how I'd
rehearsed it in my head.

"Wow.
It sure is great to hear your voice. Honestly, I never thought I'd hear from
you again. To what do I owe this pleasure." He replied, rather
sarcastically. Okay, I had that one coming.

"Don't
be like that. I've missed you. I thought maybe we could talk about things
between us." I whispered.

"Dammit,
Brooke, I don't really feel like having the same argument with you over the
phone. We never seem to get anywhere." He groaned. I could practically
hear him pacing, and I fought hard to keep myself from chuckling. I didn't want
him to hear me. "And why are you talking so softly? I can barely hear
you."

"Then
why don't you open the door and we can have this conversation in person?"

"What?
Where are you?" I knocked once on the door. "You're here? At the
hotel?" He opened the door with the phone still up to his ear.

"Yeah.
I wanted to see you." I replied, still talking into the phone. His tongue
played against his cheek as he ran a hand through his morning hair. The very
sight of him still took my breath away. He looked me up and down before his
eyes settled on the sweatshirt I was wearing. A slow smile turned up his kissable
lips and I had the sudden selfish urge to throw myself at him.

"That's
cool. I've been wanting to see you too. Nice shirt." He replied, casually,
setting his phone aside before reaching out to take mine.

“Thanks.
Someone special gave it to me.” I smiled, warmly. He closed the door behind me
and I glanced around the room. A bottle of whiskey sat in the center of the table,
broken glass and a pool of liquid surrounded it. That must have been the crash
that I'd heard through the door. His eyes followed mine and he quickly went
over, grabbing a towel from the kitchen island to clean up the mess.

"Am
I interrupting anything?" I asked, casually. Fear shot through me that
this division between us had sent him back to drinking. My eyes pleaded with
him, silently.

"No."
He paused mid-wipe. "Just dealing with some old demons. How about you?
What have you been up to?" He went back to mopping the table and then
poured the bottle down the drain. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Oh,
dealing with a few demons of my own." I sat on the nearest sofa and patted
the space next to me. He stared blankly for a moment before moving forward.
"I saw my father. I mentioned that to you the last time we were together.
Do you remember that?"

"Yeah."
He sat down, eyeing me carefully, as if I may strike out at any given moment.
"How did that go?"

"Not
so well the first time around. But, after running back to Michigan I did a lot
of thinking, about us. About why I'd gotten so angry with you. I realized that
I needed to find my mother and ask her why she'd made the choices she did. Why
she'd placed her career before her family. Do you know what I discovered?"

He
shook his head, no, and leaned forward to listen.

"She
and my father are re-married, and living in Michigan." His eyes grew larger
and I continued. "Yeah, I know, right?" I laughed, shaking my head in
disbelief as well. "Turns out they'd gotten back together last year but
didn't get married until Mom closed her law practice. They both were very
remorseful about the choices they made back then. I asked my Mom what changed
her mind, why'd she decided to walk away from her career after all this time.
You want to know what she said?"

His
head bobbed up and down quickly.

"She
said that she didn't walk away from anything. Instead, she walked toward
something new. I realized then that you weren't asking me to give up my dreams.
You only wanted me to be willing to give it up, for us. After I left my
parent's house, I had one more demon to face. I went to the accident site and poured
my heart out to Devon's memory. I know it may seem strange, but it was
something I needed to do." I moved off the sofa and knelt before him,
taking his strong hands in mine. "Sebastian. I love you. I've never
stopped loving you. I don't care that Reid kissed me, and I don't care that
Rachel kissed you. I only know that you're the first man who's kiss ever meant
anything to me. And I want you to be the only one kissing me for the rest of my
life."

"I
don't know, Brooke. I'm not sure I can handle being rejected by you a third
time." He tried pulling his hands away, but I tightened my grip.

"I
never rejected you, Sebastian." His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head.
"I never rejected you because you never proposed. You told me twice that
you were going to propose, but you never got around to it."

He
got up and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Losing
you nearly destroyed me. I’ve spent the last month fighting to regain control
over my life. I’m not sure—.”

"I
would have said yes." I blurted out. He came over and stood before me,
looking down. "If you would have asked me to marry you, I would have said
yes." I stood and met his gaze. "I want to spend the rest of my life
falling asleep in your strong arms, and waking up to your handsome face."
I brushed my thumb lightly over his piercing, giving it a light tug. "I've
missed this. And I've missed you."

"So,
you'd really spend the rest of your life with me? Would I make you happy?"
He tugged gently on my belt loops, pulling me closer.

"Well,
I know that without you I can't find my way. It's like I'm out of
balance."

"Like
a table with a broken leg." He chuckled, softly.

"Exactly!"
I exclaimed, looping my index fingers around his belt loops, so that we now
stood face to face. "I don't want to be a broken table. I want to be whole
again. I need you beside me to make that happen. What do you say? Will you take
me back?" I asked, moving my face closer to his.

"Of
course I'll take you back, I never let go. I'm lost without you." He
closed the gap and our lips touched for the first time in more than a month.

The
kiss started out slow, our lips tentatively brushing, as if reacquainting
themselves. Soon, familiarity kicked in and his lips pressed firmly against
mine, taking possession. The warmth of his mouth sent a current coursing through
my body. His tongue traced across my bottom lip, silently begging for me to
open to him, so I did. Our tongues moved together slowly. Unhurried. He let out
a low groan and it vibrated against my lips.

He
pulled me closer, pressing his body to mine, and I felt the hard lines of his
muscles. I slipped a hand between us, beneath his shirt, tracing each dip and
curve of his abdominals. I continued higher, moving over the defined crease of
his pectorals, then ran my finger along the line of his collar bone. He stepped
back, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. I went back
to exploring. He remained silent, allowing my hands to move over him. It had
been too long since we last touched. He watched closely, his breathing slow and
deep. I bent forward, placing a tender kiss over his heart, then worked my way
up his neck.

"Brooke,
I've missed being with you. I've missed everything about you. I want nothing
more than to take you to my bed and make love to you, but I have to know how
this time is going to be any different than before. The tour is finished."
He tilted my head back and placed soft kisses along my jaw. "I could come
stay with you while you finish out your time here." I moaned as his lips
found their way to the hollow of my throat.

"Oh,
I forgot to tell you," my voiced quivered. "I quit." I rolled my
head to the side to give him easier access. He stopped kissing and pulled back.

"What
do you mean, you quit? You loved that job. Baby, why would you do that?"
He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I hope you don't think
I expected that."

"No.
I didn't think that. I quit because I wanted to. I don't need that position to
define me as a chef. At first I thought that quitting would have made me a
failure. But I didn't quit because I couldn't hack it. I quit because it no
longer fulfilled my needs. I was holding onto a promise that I made a long time
ago. I thought turning my back on that indicated that period of my life was
insignificant. I know different now." I pressed my cheek flat against his
chest. His arms held me in place.

"What
does meet your needs?" He asked, huskily.

"You.
Being with you. That's all I need. It's all that I want. I'll still work with
Max in L.A., but he and I had a long talk last night and he agreed to take on someone
new to run things in London."

"Do
you have to stay here until he finds a replacement?"

"Nope.
We've already found one. Reid is going to take my place." Sebastian looked
at me questioningly. "What? He'll be a perfect fit. He loves living here.
He's an amazing chef. And, he and Max get along perfectly. It was almost as if
it were meant to be. Really. I'm very happy with my decision. I want to go home
with you. Back to L.A."

"You
really left your job for us? I can't believe you did that."

"I
wanted to. I never felt pressured. Once I accepted what I truly wanted in life,
I knew it was the only choice. Which brings me to the next part of my
speech." I straightened myself and grasped his hands with my fingertips.
Then, I went down on one knee, looking up at him.

"Brooke,
what are you doing?" He stammered.

"Sebastian
Thomas Miles, I have waited my whole life to find someone like you. Someone
that loves me unconditionally. Someone that still takes my breath away, even
after all this time. Would you please do me the honor--"

"No."
He interjected, and my heart fell. "This isn't right. You shouldn't be
asking me to marry you. I'm the one that should be doing the asking."

"What,
is there some macho reasoning behind that? Why can't I ask you to marry me? The
end result is still the same, no matter how we get there. I want to marry
you." I insisted.

"Please.
I've waited over three months to be able to do this. Let me do it my way."
He pleaded.

"I
just think you like being in control." I teased him, nipping at his lip.

He
cleared his throat and dropped to one knee. Now it was my turn to blush.

"Wow.
I've missed that, so much." His eyes were full of love as he gazed up at
me. "Now, in previous plans I was wearing a shirt for this. So, do me a
favor and just pretend that I'm wearing something much nicer than a pair of
faded jeans." He smiled, nervously, showing off the pair of dimples I'd loved
from the beginning. "Oh, shit. I don't have a ring." He stated,
frantically. "I gave your ring away. I'm so sorry."

"Babe,
it's okay. We don't need a ring. Besides, I've met James and he seemed like a
wonderful man. You did the right thing." I assured him.

"You
met James? How?"

"Let's
just say I took a cab and he shared his happiness with me. I've been told that
I'm a great listener." I winked. "Now, where were we?"

"Ahem."
He cleared his throat. I looked down into the deep pool of his sapphire eyes
and dove in head first. He did that to me.

"Brooke
Lynn Caldwell, I fell in love with you the moment I first laid eyes on you.
Without knowing it, I gave you my heart that day, and I've never wanted it
back. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life loving you and
caring for you. I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. I want to be the
first person you see every morning, and the last person you kiss every night.
Would you do me the honor of being my wife? Marry me, Brooke. Make me the
happiest man in the world."

Without
knowing it, he too had stolen my heart from the first time I'd laid eyes on
him. He had cared for me, and loved me, even before our first kiss. No one had
ever made me feel the way he did, and as far as I was concerned, no one else
would ever get the chance. I wanted to spend the rest of my days with him.

"Yes.
Yes Sebastian Miles, I will marry you. I want to spend the rest of our lives
together." He slipped one of the rings off his right hand and slid it over
my knuckle. It hung loosely on my finger, but I didn't care. That act meant
something to him, therefore it meant something to me. I smiled at him and ran a
finger over the silver band.

"I
love you, Brooke Caldwell." He kissed me tenderly on the mouth. "Now,
where were we?" He chuckled, seductively.