STONED (Wrecked Book 1) (28 page)

Shaking off the memory, I go back to watching him on the screen. Such a different Stone from the MMVA’s. I’m mesmerized by his voice and can’t stop my face from scrunching up like I’ve smelled something bad because his guitar riff is just so damn dirty. He’s in his zone, his fingers flying over the strings, wrapping around the fretboard, working the frets, his face pulled in a grimace. You just can’t help it when something sounds that good. My heart soars listening to Stone. His music lives inside me; I feel every one of these notes to my soul. When he’s finished, he sticks the thin silver guitar pick I know is stamped with our initials in between his teeth and grins around it, winking into the camera. His hair is damp from sweat, his shirt molded to him. He’s gotten bigger, filled out. I hate that I find everything about him so sexy.

“It should be illegal for a man to be that damn hot.” I squeak out a startled yelp.

“Perry! Holy shit you scared me.” Tossing a pillow at her that she easily deflects.

“Yeah, you didn’t hear me. You were preoccupied.” She smirks, a bowl of popcorn in her hand. “Is this from their promo tour?” Perry plops onto the foot of the bed, watching the screen still, one leg bent under her.

“Yeah. Last leg I think. I’m not one hundred percent, but I think that’s what the text said.”

Now that it’s over, I have the sudden urge to Google everything he’s done while he’s been gone.

“You guys are talking?” she asks, nudging me. A sly smile on her pretty, freckled face.

“No. He texts or calls every day though.” Her jaw drops and she stares at me agape for a full five seconds before I kick her. “What?”

“He calls or texts every day? So you have been talking.”

“He’s been talking. I don’t answer, or listen to the voicemails for that matter.”

“Willow Avery. Are you telling me that after everything, he’s been reaching out to you and you’re not even bothering to return a simple text?” she accuses.

“I’m not ready to talk to him right now. He makes me feel . . . fragile,” I confess.

“You are the least fragile person I’ve ever met in my life. I think that he makes your feelings feel fragile. That’s what I think.” She shakes her head at me.

“What does that even mean, Per?” Laughing at her ability to speak in code and make it sound pretty.

“It means that he shakes your foundation. He makes you unsure of how you feel about JD and maybe even a little about him. You’ve been angry at him for so long, and he makes you not want to be angry, and that fucks you all up. Makes your feelings fragile.” Perry crosses her arms and looks at me smugly. She’s hit the nail on the head and she knows it.

“Regardless. I don’t like it and until I figure out what to do and where to place all of it, I’m ignoring him,” I reply, crossing my own arms. All that’s missing is a “harrumph” and a “take that” from me.

“You, my friend, are stubborn as shit.”

“Yup. Now what did you bring?” I ask, done with this whole conversation.

“Fine, I’ll let you change the subject. For now,” she grins. “Now do you want to watch more Wrecked on tour or do you want to watch some movies.”

I waver just for a moment but then I say, “Movies. Definitely movies.”

“I was hoping you were going with Wrecked.” She pretends to pout but walks over to the Blu-ray player and pops in a disc.

“What are we watching?” I ask, plucking popcorn from the bowl on her lap.

“
Begin Again
. It’s about a rock star who fucks up, loses the girl, but she finds her own way, and he wants her back.” I choke on the kernel and glare at her profile. Her smile takes up her whole face as she tosses popcorn in her mouth before saying coyly, “You’re gonna love it.”

Stone

“LAW, YOU AND RO MEET
me at the studio when you get this message. I have to get something down and couldn’t wake you guys. See you soon, fucker.” Disconnecting the call, I stick the lolli back in my mouth and yank open the door to the studio connected to The Dirty Bird. Ro was right and I ended up paying triple to use the space, but I don’t give a shit. It’s a great set up plus it gives me the opportunity to possibly, maybe, I’m such a fucking pussy, bump into Wills from time to time. Like right now . . .

I had no clue that she’d be here. I just called and confirmed some time with the kid who answers the phone. Walking up to the booth, I see her through the glass, Lyric sitting in a little chair as Willow plays the piano and sings. Pressing the button on the wall beside the door the sound filters out. She’s singing “Burning House.” Removing the sucker, I press my head to the cool glass and close my eyes briefly, letting her voice smooth out all my rough edges for a second. This song. This song reminds me of something Willow said to me not long before I forced her to leave me.

The night before I hadn’t come back to the hotel. To this day, I remember every word Willow said. Every emotion, but I still can’t remember where the hell I had been or who with. Just that I stumbled into our room at around eleven in the morning, guilt dogging my every step, to find Wills there, tears in her eyes. Then I watched as she stood and looked me over from head to toe and those worried tears dried up to be replaced by anger as she hurled her phone at me. I barely dodged that before she threw a pillow and then a shoe. I let those hit me because it hurt more to try to move out of the way of them. And just as quickly as the anger exploded from her it dissipated into grief and resolution. In the middle of our hotel room I watched as she broke down and cried. I tried comforting her but she pushed me away and I was still fucked up enough to let her. To not realize that
I
was pushing her away as well as letting her go.

“You’re like this inferno. This big damn burning house. Flames consuming every inch of it, every inch of you. But I love you. God, I love you. So I hold on, and when you push, I hold on even tighter until you’re throwing fire at me as well. I let you burn us down because leaving you was never an option. I’ve held on for so long, you’ve finally killed my flame. I can’t fight fire with fire if mine is gone. So now what? Do I just stay here with you, and try to dig us out of the ashes of what’s left? I can’t. I can’t let you torch what’s left of me.”

With my eyes squeezed shut, letting the memory play out in my mind, I thunk my head against the glass, stopping when the door cracks open.

“Ummm, you okay, dude?” Aidan, the kid I talked to, asks nervously.

Glancing up, I see Willow coming toward us, Lyric on her hip, chubby little arms wrapped around her mama’s neck. I can’t help but smile, they look so much alike.

“Stone, what are you doing here?” Willow asks warily.

“Hey, Birdie,” I greet, shaking off the sad memory. Happy to see that they’re both wearing my gift, I lean in and place a kiss to the side of her head and then one to Lyric’s, startling Willow and making Lyric hug her a little tighter. “I didn’t realize you were here. I just had to get something down and the studio wasn’t booked this morning. I’m not following you, I swear,” I joke. Although if you think about it, it’s exactly what I’m doing. There’s probably better equipped studios nearby, but leasing one of them was never even an option. Willow is here. So, this is where I am.

“You—you’re using this studio? This one?” she asks incredulously, gesturing to the space around us.

Looking up at the letter A above the door I shake my head no, “Well, not this one. Studio B. I think.” Grinning, I look over at Aidan. “That right, bro?”

“Yeah, that one’s open today.” He looks from me to Wills, back to me. Like he’s waiting for something but he’s not sure what.

Eyes on Willow, I tell him. “You can go. We’ll be fine.”

“Uh, of course. My bad. Willow, I got that down if you want it.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing into the mix room.

“Thanks, Aidan. I’ll see you later,” she tells him with a smile.

Once he scurries off—and there’s no other way to describe it—she turns back to me. “How did you talk Bear into this?”

“I paid triple,” I confess before changing gears. “I’m glad that you liked the birthday gift.” I push my sleeve up, revealing the Willow tree and the coordinates matching the ones on her necklace. White ink situated within the black roots, anchored there, just like she is in me.

“That’s permanent,” she says, wide eyed.

“Roots, you . . . Lyric. All permanent. I’m going back to my roots.” I shrug.

“Wh-what happens if I move?” Willow stammers.

“You can have roots and still have wings, Birdie. Doesn’t mean I won’t follow. Home isn’t a place.” Cocking my head, I grin, “I think that you’re the one who told me that.”

She’s about to say something else when Bear walks in and sees us in the hallway. Lyric immediately squirms to be set down.

“Hi there, baby girl,” Bear booms, scooping her up as she tries to walk and then decides against it and crawls over. He pretends to stagger under her weight, causing her to giggle. “You’ve been eating your spinach, eh? You’re getting to be big as a moose,” he says dramatically. Lyric eats it up, clapping and laughing. Such a happy little thing. Bear, never missing a beat says over her head as he tickles her, “I’m taking her into the office to FaceTime Cora so you two can finish up your little chat. I’ll leave the door open,” he tells Willow pointedly. Giving me the stink eye as he walks by. I may be paying quadruple by the time the day is over.

“I feel like a broken record, but why are you here, Stone?”

“You do ask that an awful fucking lot. I’m starting to think that you don’t want me here.” I can’t help but tease her. The last time we saw each other was so heavy, I need this. We need this. I like to get her riled up. Puts color in her cheeks and a spark in her whiskey-colored eyes.

“You—you know the truth now. You can go.” Her tone isn’t as timid as her words.

“Why would I go? Because Lyric isn’t mine? She yours, Wills?” Remembering where we are I try to keep my voice low. “Because last time I checked, you’re her mom and that makes her my family. Lyric being here is partly on me, and I’m sorry for what happened. I’ll never stop being sorry for that, but I’ll never be sorry that she’s here.” Taking a step forward, I invade her space as much as she’ll let me. I would give anything to be able to run my hands through her hair, pull on it, tipping her head back, forcing her to arch into me. With a smothered groan, I go on, “I look at her and I see you. I see your pretty smile and those flashing dimples that do my ass in. She has your hair, your eyes. I’m pretty sure once she’s older she’s gonna own your sass too. I look at her and I see the woman I fucking love, and that’s enough for me.” This time I do reach out and run a hand down the silky hair she has tossed over her shoulder. Her breathing is a little ragged. I like it. “I had a few days to think about everything, Wills, and I came to the conclusion that none of it matters. It hurts me. Nah, it fucking kills me. But none of it matters in the here and now. If you can love Lyric despite it all, I can love her because of it. Hell, I already do, and I’ve barely been able to spend time with her.” Not giving Willow a chance to react or overthink it, I take one more step closer, putting her against the door and me flush against her. The scent of her skin, lavender, honey, and Willow, is a high I can get on board with. Before I can stop myself, I tug on the locks of hair I’ve been stroking, making her gasp slightly, just enough for me to lower my head and fit my mouth over hers. My tongue dipping gently in between her parted lips. The moan that escapes me can’t be helped. I’ve been starving for her kiss, her taste. Widening my stance, I snake an arm between her and the door and tug her even closer still. Murmuring her name when she melts into me and kisses me back. When she clutches at the back of my neck, pulling me to her, I deepen the kiss further. Then just as our tongues melt against each other, she pushes me away. With the back of her trembling hand she swipes at her mouth, as if she’s trying to erase my touch.

“No, I won’t cheat on him, Stone.” She shakes her head and straightens her shoulders gearing up for a fight when not two seconds ago she was clinging to me. “I won't cheat on him. No matter how much I loved you once, I’m with him now. I won’t,” Willow says stubbornly.

Growling low in my throat in frustration, I thump a clenched fist against my chest. “You're cheating on me, Willow! You're cheating on me. You were never his!” The heat in my words causes it to carry, but I couldn’t care less. Let Bear come out here.

“Why can’t you just stop? You don’t even know me anymore. You wouldn’t like the person I’ve become, Stone. I’m not the same girl you fell in love with. I’m a mom now. Lyric comes before everything.” If her words are meant to deter me, they don’t. If anything they make me want her more. Love her more. Willow moves around me to leave, but I stop her.

“Oh, I know you, Birdie. You may have changed, but it’s all for the better.” I throw her a cocky smirk and hit her with the lyrics I came here to work on without her even knowing it. “Want you. Need you. Live you. Breathe you.” I shrug. “All of it and then some. I'm not giving you up, Wills. He wants to fight? I'll fight. I'll hit him with all the history we have. I'll slap him in his smug damn face with how it was me,
me
, who taught you to do that thing with your tongue.” My smirk turns to a grimace, but I harden my jaw. “I was your first and I'll be your last. That's a fucking promise.” Raising my arms out in surrender, “I’ve got no pride left, Birdie. I left that shit back at rehab. I'm all out of give-a-fucks and I'm ready to fight to the death if I need to. So like I said, if your little boyfriend wants a fight, I'm ready with an arsenal of memories, and he won't like a single fucking one of them. Not a single, God damn one.”