She inched her fingers, like she was counting each divot made my muscle, only to run her nails down my sides. “Either you take steroids or you’ve been taking all your anger out on the weight room.”
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Steroids.”
She sobered when my lips met her ear. I pulled back and waited for her to say something like, “Hey can we take this slow,” or “This is a really bad idea.” Hell, I knew it was a bad idea yet I couldn’t walk away, not again.
Not when the last time I saw her beneath the sheets, she was in someone else’s arms, not when the last time I saw her, she ignored me after we got in a public fight at a bar.
“You broke my heart too,” She said, lips trembling. “I think it may still be broken, just like yours.”
She didn’t ask if it was.
It was like she just knew.
“I’m still sad,” I confessed.
“I’m devastated.” She grabbed me by the hair and fused her mouth to mine, tugging me against her soft body, her cotton T-shirt that smelled like salt and the ocean. Like marshmallows and wet sand.
It was my new favorite smell.
And because of that, because of the feeling of her in my arms, again still with so much separating us, I returned her kiss, pressing her hands behind her head as I took control, she kicked off the sheets.
I reached for her shirt.
And stopped.
“This won’t fix us,” I whispered against her mouth.
“I know.” Tears filled her eyes. “I just wish I knew what would.”
I lay back down, heart pounding, and pulled her into my arms. “Sleep.”
“SOMEONE DIDN’T GET any food last night,” Zane said in a singsong voice as he strummed his damn guitar and wrote down a few lyrics.
We were on set waiting for our call times, and when I say we, I meant me. Zane just decided it would be fun to torture me while he wrote another hit song and made millions of dollars with no shirt on.
“Can we not talk about this?” I hissed, “Let’s talk about your tour, the last company did a shit job, we need to hit it bigger with—”
“I’m not going on tour,” Zane interrupted. “I just got done touring man, I want a break.”
“But—” I frowned. “You realize that you earned over twenty-eight mil on your last tour right?”
“What the hell do you think I need more money for?” He stopped strumming. “I write music because I love it, because I have to, because it’s my passion. You know this about me, it’s why you look so damn sad all the time. You quit because of her, you quit it all, and you lost yourself man, you lost your fucking music.” He dropped his guitar and walked off.
“He’s right.” Ang picked up the acoustic guitar and handed it to me, she was in her normal uniform of boyfriend jeans, a t-shirt and ball cap. “You just… quit life.”
“Because you were my life.” I said under my breath. “How much did you hear?”
She shrugged. “Enough to know that you’re about as messed up as I am.”
I smiled at that. “Yeah well, clearly I’m not perfect.”
“You think you ever were?” She eyed the guitar in my hands. “It looks good on you, Will.”
“What?”
“Music.”
“When did you grow up, Ang? And before you answer can I just say I’m pissed I missed the parts in between?”
Her smile was sad. “Child stars are always forced to grow up… and I have only Alec and Demetri to blame. They forced me into rehab, counseling, all the things. And I did it because I was so sick of myself, of my choices.” She hung her head. “You know, Will, I think you misunderstood something about what happened between me and Andrew.”
I nearly broke the guitar over my own head. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Nope. I’m the grown up now, remember?”
I flinched at her words, refusing to look at her, afraid she’d see how angry I still was, how sad, how rejected.
“He was jealous of you,” she said simply. “He always felt like you betrayed everyone when you took time off to do a solo career, after your hit song went crazy and everyone wanted you, he felt left out, I think the reason he targeted me is because I felt the same way.”
I froze. “Targeted?”
“I was drunk, he’d gotten me drunk, when I snorted my first line of cocaine, I still did it, I still said yes. He said it would help me stay up late. He was right. And slowly, he wound me into his web of deceit. He told me…” She shook her head. “He told me there were other girls, that you didn’t really love me, didn’t care. And there were pictures.” She licked her lips. “I never thought you cheated, I just thought… why the hell would Will Sutherland want me, when he could have anyone? And when you got so busy, and he was there, with his lies, with his… easy smiles and free drugs. I fell. I made that choice. I still fell. And then our fights got worse and worse, and I was so guilty with all the lies I was telling you, I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, let alone look at you anymore.”
“I begged you to stop.”
“By then I was too addicted to even consider it, and no matter how much you love someone, the drug will always win out, Will, especially when your supplier is your boyfriend’s best friend.”
“Ex-best friend,” I said with barely controlled rage.
“I just, I don’t want you walking around wondering anymore, last night…” She shook her head. “It felt so real. My dream.”
“What… dream?”
“The old Will Sutherland kissed me.” She smiled brightly. “It was a good dream.”
“What makes you think he’s gone?”
“Because I have eyes, and because your armor…” she leaned over and whispered, “Is back on… Grab the guitar, it’s not going to kill you, Will. It may just save your life.”
“Stop being so… old.” I strummed a few chords. And she sat next to me.
In silence.
Both of us.
But my heart felt a bit lighter.
Maybe because just like her words, my guitar was one more broken piece she’d given back.
Maybe there was hope after all.
“Play me a song, Will,” she said a few minutes later.
So I did.
And when she asked me to sing.
I didn’t hesitate, to show her that I was in there still, waiting, yearning, but scared as hell to try when I had everything to lose.
WELL I WENT all in.
Threw my cards in his face.
Admitted it all.
Except that I still wanted him.
Loved him.
Breathed him.
But at least… at least maybe, it would help us heal, move past this part of us that we were both trying so desperately to cling to, I was done clinging to the damaged burned pieces when all I wanted were to build new ones.
“Gem?” I was getting my hair put in a ponytail rather than my usual baseball cap.
“Yes honey?” She pulled tight enough for my scalp to rip right off my head near my ears.
“Do you think it’s possible to give someone a second chance, when they hurt you so much that it destroyed your life?”
She stopped tugging and looked at me through the mirror. “Nobody decides whether or not your life is destroyed but you. To let someone have that much power over you isn’t right. It isn’t healthy.”
“No, I mean—” I was frustrated just trying to explain what I meant.”—like they ruin your life.”
“Only person capable of ruining your life, is you.”