“How do you feel?” I ask when I finally open the door and spot him on the couch as he watches some golf match. I swear, if I didn’t know he was thirty-four, I’d think he’s seventy.
I set my bags on the floor by the door as he stands from the couch and turns off the television.
His eyes heat as they fall upon me. “Better. Good enough for physical activity.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, but then he pauses for a beat as he studies me. “What’s wrong?”
The dam bursts and tears pour out of me.
He rushes over to me. He pulls me into his arms, and it just makes me cry harder—the peace I feel here, the safety and the comfort, the love.
That glorious smell of sandalwood.
“What happened?” he asks as he holds me.
“I lost my job,” I say through broken sobs.
“You were fired?”
“My principal put me on a leave of absence,” I say shakily.
“What? Why?”
I draw in a deep breath to try to get through this conversation. “Students saw pictures of us.”
“What pictures?”
“From this morning. Getting out of the car.” I sniffle as the tears start to subside.
“Oh, fuck,” he says. He pulls back and kisses my forehead.
“They said it was crazy at school today and everyone’s talking about it and the focus needs to be on curriculum and not my circus of a life.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll fix this. This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” I shake my head.
“How can you say that? You lost your job because you were with me. Fuck! And after I donated that performance.” Anger flashes through his eyes.
“I meant to ask you about that,” I say.
“What about it?”
“Why’d you do it?”
His eyes soften. “For you. But I never thought you being associated with me would cause you to lose your job.”
“Don’t talk like that. It’s my choice to be here with you. I’d always choose you over some stupid job anyway.”
He’s quiet as he processes those words. “I love you,” he says softly. He kisses the top of my head. “I still love you. I will always love you. Only ever you.”
My eyes shine as I look into his. “I heard it on the radio.”
“You did?”
I nod.
“What did you think?”
“I pulled over and cried in a parking lot. Why’d you do it solo?”
“Two reasons. One, Pen’s been on my ass to release something solo. But more importantly, I wanted that song to be just mine. It’s a song for us, not a Vail song.”
I start to cry again at his words, and he lets me get it out for a few quiet beats as he hugs me closer. Eventually he says, “I’m so sorry. For everything.” His hands smooth a path from my hair down my back and up again.
“Don’t be sorry.” I pull out of his hug and walk to the refrigerator. I grab us each a bottle of water.
“Let me make it up to you.”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to make up. This was both of us fucking everything up.”
“Speaking of fucking...” He grins slyly at me.
I can’t help my laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
“You’re gonna pretend you don’t want it?”
“I have to. You’re not ready for it.” I take a seat at the kitchen table.
“Wanna bet?” He grabs what’s clearly an erection tenting his shorts.
I ignore him. “Do you want something to eat?”
“No. You know what I want.”
I raise a brow. “For dinner?”
“For any meal.”
“Oh my God. You’re impossible.”
“No, I’m not.” He shakes his head and gives me his best innocent puppy dog eyes, but I’m not buying it. “I need to test my physicality after everything I’ve been through.”
“Play the sick card. Good way to get me to give in.”
“If you don’t want to give it to me, I can find—”
“Stop right there,” I say, holding up a hand.
“So you’re willing, then?”
I shake my head. “Eventually. We still have a lot to sort through, and the nurse said you need to take it easy for a few days.”
He pulls out the chair next to me and sits. “I know. I’m teasing you. Mostly. I’m just ready for sex. With you.”
“But you just said you could find someone else.”
He purses his lips and shakes his head. “You cut me off. What I was going to say was that I could find a sock to blow it into.”
My jaw drops. “Mark!” I scold.
He grins slyly. “I’m joking.” His expression turns serious. “It’s just been a while.”
“How long?” I ask tentatively. I haven’t had sex since the last time I was in this condo.
He looks away from me and out the window. “Since the morning you left.”
“Really?”
He nods, and the last of my resolve weakens as everything inside me melts to a buttery, gooey mess.
“Why not?” My question comes out more cautious than I mean for it to.
“You know why not.”
I touch his forearm, and his eyes fall on my fingertips. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Because it was all meaningless bullshit.” His green eyes finally lift to mine. “Everything else, I mean. I never felt anything real with any of them, and once I felt that with you, I couldn’t go back.”
Those pieces of my heart that were still fractured seem to find their home again at his words. Everything inside me warms. I lean forward and take his cheeks between my hands. The hair there is rough from days without shaving. The coarseness only serves to remind me that this is real. It’s raw and real and terrifying, but every single moment with him has been.
That’s who we are, isn’t it? Why would it be any different now?
His eyes burn into mine, the green depths telling me this is what we both need. I lean forward and brush my lips softly against his. A low moan drops from him as he gives himself over to me, as he firms his lips and presses them to mine, and it ignites every ember of my quaking soul.
I want to deepen it, want to feel his tongue moving in my mouth, want to feel his hands illicitly moving everywhere, but neither of us moves for a few quiet beats. His kiss is familiar and perfect at the same time it’s risky and petrifying. It’s a promise for more between two people who are finally free to be together—if they want to. If they can make it work.
The sad reality hits me. I want this—of course I want this, and I think he wants this, too. But he’s the touring front man of a multi-platinum band and I’m an unemployed teacher. How do two people from such different worlds find middle ground to cultivate a meaningful relationship?
I pull from our kiss first, and a disappointed grunt escapes him.
“How long would you have waited?” I ask.
“For what?” He looks confused.
“To have sex. How long would you have waited?”
“For sex with you? Forever.” He gives me a cheesy grin.
“I’m serious.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. Long enough for something meaningful to drift into my life again. Long enough to be sure I’d gotten over you before I moved on.”
“And you didn’t?”
He shakes his head and presses his lips together. He closes his eyes for a beat like he’s in pain. When he opens them, they’re a bright green and I feel like they’re looking inside me. “No. I didn’t even come close. How do you move on from the only one who has ever spoken to your soul?”
Tears prick behind my eyes at his words.
I get it. I get exactly what he means because I feel the same way. Each day has been an endless dredge of monotony.
“I have a question,” Mark says.
I glance up at him and raise my brows.
“Who was the guy you were with on Friday?” His eyes darken as he asks, and my breath catches in my throat.
“That was Justin. My ex.”
“Are you, uh...dating him?”
I huff out a laugh. “No.”
“Then why did he have his arm around you?”
I furrow my brow as I think back. “He was trying to tell me something and I couldn’t hear him. He was just leaning in closer.”
He stares cautiously down at the table. “Do you want to be with him?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little. He’s got a girlfriend and I’ve got...” I trail off. Nothing. I’ve got nothing, but now that I’m here, maybe all that can change.
“You’ve got?” he prompts.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I lower my voice. “I haven’t been able to move on from what happened.”
“Why not?”
“Same reason you didn’t move on.”
He nods in acknowledgment that the two of us were completely lost without the other one.
“Why’d you leave the show early?”
“I was devastated after I listened to you sing about how you hate me. Justin took Jill and me back to—”
Mark holds up his hand. “Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but those words weren’t referring to you.”
I raise both brows in surprise. “They weren’t?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t know what love was until I met you. And while it’s true I didn’t know what hate was until you, either, it’s not you I hate.”
“Then who is it?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I shake my head. “Clearly not.”
His eyes go to the window again and he runs a hand over his hair and down his bristly cheek. “Brian.”
“You hate your brother?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. I hate what he did. I hate that he kept us apart. I didn’t truly understand that emotion until he tore us apart.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Not since the day of the funeral. Finish your story about why you left the show.”
He changes the subject so abruptly that I’m momentarily thrown off. I clear my throat and gather my thoughts. “He took me home, but Tess was banging some guy on the couch, so Jill and I went out for pancakes.”
“What? Who’s Tess?”
“Jill moved in with Becker and our lease was up, so I’m staying with my friend Tess. You met her that night you had the party when Lizzie was in town. And living with her isn’t what I thought it would be.”
“We’ll fix that.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but my heart races as my head forms ideas. We’re both quiet for a beat, and then he pulls my hand into his. He strokes the back of mine tenderly, and I stare down at his skin against mine—something I thought I’d never feel again.
“What did the last verse say?” I ask.
“The last verse of what?”
“‘Until You.’”
He stands up, walks to the bedroom, and returns with a piece of paper. He sets it in front of me.
I read through the first two verses, the ones I heard on Friday.
And then my eyes fall on the third verse, and the hot tears that pricked behind my eyes a second ago fall in fat waves down my cheeks.
No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you
It’s time to stop fighting it, Time to end this stupid shit
I need to find you, need to say, I want you back, it starts today.
“You want me back?”
His eyes shine as he watches my tears fall. He flicks one away with a rough fingertip. “Yeah. I want you back. I just don’t know how to get you back. I want these last twenty-four hours to change things, but I don’t know if it does.”
“Of course it does.” My voice is a passionate and desperate plea.
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m on tour. We’ve cancelled shows because of my stupidity. I’ve let everyone down, and not just the band. Fans. My family. You. And the root of everything stems from how fucking dumb I was to let you walk out of my life.”
“I never went anywhere,” I whisper.
“Yeah, you did,” he says. “You went back to your life and walked out of mine, and I didn’t fight for you. That’s what I do, Reese. I push people away. I fuck up everything good.”
“Why?”
His brows dart down. “Why?” he repeats. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”
I lift a shoulder. “What did you expect?”
“I thought you’d say something about how that’s not true. Something to make me feel better.”
I press my lips together. “Don’t fish for compliments, Mark. Not with me. I need your honesty, always.”
He glances away from me.
“So why do you fuck everything up by pushing everyone away?”
His gaze goes to the window, but I grab his jaw and force his eyes back to mine. I don’t know where this strong version of me is coming from, but I like her.
“Fear?” He says it like a question, and I nod in encouragement.
“What are you scared of?” I drop my fingers from his jaw.
“Losing you.”
“You lost me. How’d it feel?”
“It sucked.”
I chuckle. “It wasn’t exactly a picnic for me, either.”
“I do it to make it on my terms. I do it so I can brace for impact. If I fuck it up before it ever gets off the ground, I have less to lose.”
His eyes burn into mine, and they’re so intense that this time I am the one who has to look away. My eyes are drawn to the windows.
“Is that why you lied about the girl at Sevens?” My voice is soft.
“Yeah.”
I glance over at him, and he’s looking down at the table. I don’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s so earnest that I can’t help but believe him. “I shouldn’t have led you to believe it happened that night. That picture was from a long time ago and I’m pretty sure my brother had a hand in releasing it anyway.”
“Seriously?”
He nods.
“So where do we go from here?” I ask.
“To the bedroom?”
I smack him in the arm, and he grins at me.
“I meant to go to bed. My nap wasn’t long enough, and I really do need some rest.”
I laugh. “I’ll make us some dinner, and then bed sounds perfect.” I stand to move toward the kitchen to figure out something for dinner, but his soft voice stops me.
“Come back to me,” he says softly. I turn around to look at him. “I can’t live this life anymore without you.”
His eyes burn into mine, betraying the passion he feels for me despite his quiet tone.
Was there ever really a question?
“On one condition,” I say.
“Anything,” he says. His eyes are hopeful, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his head at my words. I could ask for anything in the world, and from the sincerity in his eyes, I’m sure he’d give it to me. I run through a mental catalog of everything I’d never ask him for—leaving Vail like Angelique did to Steve, cutting off contact with his mother like he did with his brother, money or luxuries or vacations or cars.
I don’t want any of that, though. Vail makes him happy. His family is his family, and even though I hate what Brian did, he’s the one who called me to let me know Mark needed me. While he’s the reason we were torn apart, he’s also the reason I’m standing in Mark’s kitchen right now, the reason I’ll be staying the night here, the reason we moved past the clean break I thought I needed so we could be together. They’ll find their way back to each other because they’re brothers.
“I want you to vow to me right here and right now that you’ll stop the self-destruction.” My voice wavers. “The world almost lost you way too early because of your own stupidity, and I won’t stand by and watch you do that ever again.”
He closes his eyes and nods. “I promise.” He opens his eyes and slides out of his chair. He pulls me into his arms as he makes his vow. “Why would I do something so stupid when I have everything I need right here?” He tightens his arms around my waist, and I hug him close to me.
“I’m done being stupid,” he says. “I’m done having pissing matches with Ethan, done letting him try to prove he can make it all go away when the only person who really can is you. I won’t lose you again.”
Tears heat behind my eyes as I squeeze him closer. I won’t lose him again, either.
“Destiny,” he whispers. He takes my hand to pull me with him. Neither of us is wearing shoes as he leads me up the stairs to the roof.
It looks different than it did the last time I was here, probably because Brian isn’t lying helpless on the ground. I glance at the spot where I tried to help him, but it’s clean. No trace remains of what happened except the scars on our hearts.
Mark’s eyes darken as he watches me look around, and then he says, “I need you to promise me something, too.”
Anything. “What?”
“I need you to tell me that you want me for me.”
I gaze up into the green depths of his eyes for a beat. “I want you for you. I’m honestly a little offended that you’d even think that.”
He shakes his head when he hears the defense in my voice. “I mean I don’t want this to be some twisted attempt to save me. I don’t need saving. I just need you.”
I step into his arms where I belong. “I’ll save you if you need saving. I’ll hold your hand if you’re in a hospital bed or taking the stage or on a rooftop in Chicago. I’ll be by your side for whatever you need whether we’re living in a penthouse suite or renting a tiny shack on the side of the road. It doesn’t matter as long as I have you breathing next to me.”
His mouth crashes down to mine. We had that little kiss yesterday, but this is something different. This is fiery passion, this is bottled up need detonating between us.
This is love.
It’s a battle of tongues and clashing of teeth, but he still holds onto his signature sensual steam as he brutalizes my mouth with his. The desire that pools in my abdomen presses a fierce ache between my legs.
He still needs healing. He needs time and rest. No physical activities for a few days.
These reminders dart through my head, but when his tongue brushes mine in that way only he does, the words are obliterated and lost in a sea of achy need.
He holds me so tightly against him that I can’t move. All I can do is breathe him in and tighten my arms around him. Our bodies are so close we’re melding together as one. All that separates us is the fabric of our clothes.
I’m about to tear off his shirt and toss it over the railing despite my good sense when he slows and ultimately stops the kiss.
I break away breathlessly, and he’s panting, too. He sits on the couch.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
He stares into the darkness of night lit only by a few lights left on in the building across from us. “Yeah. Just got a little dizzy for a second.”
His kisses do the same thing to me.
I sit next to him and rest my palm on his thigh. I want him—need him and crave him—but his health has to come first.
“You were just released from the hospital, Mark. You’re recovering and you need rest. Let’s get you to bed.”
He rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s like a bad hangover that lasts a few days.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “A bad hangover? It was an overdose, Mark.”
“I know I got lucky. The doctors called it an overdose because that’s the medical term. But I’m fine.”
“Prove it. Go see a doctor, get medically cleared, and then we’ll talk.”
He blows out a breath, but he knows I’m right. Sex will have to wait another day.