Chapter 24

Mason

Nicole was still asleep next to me when I woke up late the next morning. Thanks to the thick curtains, the room was dark except for a strip of sunlight sneaking its way in through the narrow gap between them.

The curtains were useless against the car horns that blared every few minutes, though. Welcome to New York City.

I listened for a while to Nicole’s soft, even breathing before finally making a decision. I had no idea what our future held for us together, but one thing was certain: before I could move on, I needed to make one final attempt at fixing things with my family.

I owed it to myself, and to them, to at least try.

The last time I had spoken to any of them was three years ago. I had no idea if my parents were still living in the house I’d nearly cost them three years before that, and I had no idea where to find my brother and sister.

I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake Nicole, and sat on the desk chair. I pulled out my phone and Googled my father’s name. At the top of the results page was the link for an obituary. Frowning, I clicked on it and scanned the article.

“Fuck,” I said, louder than I had intended.

Nicole stirred in bed and slowly opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was husky with sleep, but for once my body didn’t react to it. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, causing the bedding to slide off her. It pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. Normally that would be enough to distract me. But not today.

“My father’s dead,” I said. To my ears, my voice sounded hollow, broken.

“Oh God.” She scrambled out of bed and wrapped her arms around me. Never before had I needed someone’s touch as much as I needed it now. Or maybe that had to do with the woman holding me, showing me how much she loved me. “I’m so sorry, Mason.”

She pulled away after a beat, her expression free of pity and heavy with understanding. Both of her parents were already dead.

I sat down heavily next to her on the bed. For a second I just stayed there, unmoving, at a loss as to what to say or do. Nicole rested her hand on my thigh and soothingly stroked her thumb against my bare skin.

I closed my eyes and let my shoulders slump forward, the pain of everything overwhelming me.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice a whisper of concern.

What did I tell her? Nicole would hate me if she found out what I had almost done to my family and how low I had sunk at one point when it came to my gambling addiction. Her father’s own addiction had come close to destroying her family. I knew I should tell her the truth about being a recovering addict, but I just wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet. Not now.

I inhaled deeply, then let out a long, slow breath. I opened my eyes and stared at the painting on the far wall, unable to look at Nicole. In it, a lone couple stood next to what could be a fountain in Central Park on a rainy day. You couldn’t see their faces, thanks to the red umbrella obscuring them. It was the sole splash of color in the otherwise monochromatic picture.

“I told you I’m not close to my brother and sister. They aren’t the only ones I haven’t been close to in a long time.” I swallowed back the pain, which had formed a bass-drum-sized lump in my throat. “I decided this morning to try to contact my family again. But when I looked up my parents’ address back in L.A., I discovered my father’s obituary.” I scrubbed my hands against my face. It wasn’t enough to erase the words in the obituary from my mind. “He died two days ago from cancer, and no one thought to tell me he was dying. His funeral is tomorrow.”

And had I waited a few more weeks before looking, I might never have known—the obituary long since buried way down on the search-engine page. Fortunately, because Dell was a common last name and I had been estranged from my family well before Pushing Limits was formed, I didn’t have to worry about the media finding out about my father. Not unless a family friend or relative leaked it. My father’s memory didn’t need to be caught up in the media circus that would no doubt follow.

Nicole didn’t say anything at first. She took my hand and held on to it, sharing her own strength with me. “What do you need from me, Mason? I love you, and whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

The emotion behind her words almost knocked me over. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had loved me enough to care about me. At least not since her brother stepped in and saved my sorry ass. For years the guys in the band had known me as the prankster, the guy you didn’t take too seriously. That was the man I had pretended to be when I checked out of rehab. It had been easier that way once I’d realized how alone I really was. Even Zack hadn’t been around at that point. He had been stationed on the other side of the country.

I wrapped Nicole in my arms and held her for a few minutes. “Thank you,” I whispered, emotion clogging my words. I kissed the top of her head, doing my best to keep things together. Nicole didn’t need to know the truth: how I felt like a wild animal had clawed me from the inside out and left me to bleed to death.

She glanced up at me, her beautiful face filled with sincerity. I kissed her mouth, but mere kissing didn’t fill the cavernous void inside me, and I pulled her onto the bed….

Once our breaths had finally returned to normal and the memory of my father’s death broke through the euphoria-induced haze, I grabbed my phone. After the concert tonight I could take a red-eye to L.A., then grab a flight after my father’s funeral to Atlantic City, where we were playing the following night.

But I couldn’t do it alone.

“I’m going home after the concert tonight to attend his funeral tomorrow,” I said. It was the least I could do to show that I still loved him, even though he had been unable to love me in the end. That had all been my fault, not his. “Would you go with me?”

“Of course.” She stroked her fingers against my jaw.

I grasped hold of her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Thank you.”

Without her, I would never survive tomorrow. Now I just had to hope bringing her with me wasn’t a big mistake—one I would forever regret.