“He somehow holds himself responsible as if he could have changed things.”
I want to tell Pansy to stop talking, but Eva is very interested.
“What? No, you’re not to blame.” Eva reaches for my hand.
“We’ve all tried to help him see he isn’t to blame.” Pansy fans her hand at my friends scattered around the patio, and all of them nod.
Fuck, this feels like an intervention.
“That even if you had not made it out of the accident, it wasn’t his fault. But none of us were able to make him see any differently.” Pansy now comes to stand in front of me and rests her palm flat against my chest, where my heart is. “How do you mend a broken heart? How do you put back the pieces or fill the cracks when all he wanted…all he needed was you?”
A lone tear slides down Eva’s cheek and I grab her hand. Something prickly twists in my chest, and Pansy gifts me a tender smile before heading for Silas.
I clear my throat, pulling Eva to my side. “We’re going for a walk on the beach.”
Dipping my head, blinking away the shit in my eyes, I lead us to the stairs and down to the beach.
“Are you okay?” Eva scurries to keep up with me, and I slow my pace.
“Yeah. I’ve got you alone at last.” I chuckle and she sidles up to me, leaning into my arm. “They’re lovely, and it’s clear how much they care about you.”
“Yeah, I got lucky. And I’m glad you like them. I wish you could meet Eli, but he moved to New York City for work.”
“I’d like to meet him someday. They’re your family.”
“Yeah. That’s why it hurt so much when Trojan ended. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I’d lost again. Always losing.”
She pulls on my hands, stopping us and stepping in front of me. “No. We did lose time together but we’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“I’m not good enough for you.”
My years with the band, anything and anyone at my disposal, decadence and filth, lambaste my senses. Guilt and disgust creep into the hollow of my chest.
What am I doing? I want her more than anything in this world, but I don’t deserve her beauty and goodness.
“Stop, please don’t think like that.” Her fingers trace my jawline and her hands clutch the back of my neck as she presses onto the tips of her toes. “Do you remember I had a surprise for you, for your eighteenth birthday?”
“How could I forget? I wanted to know so badly what you had in store for us.”
“I’d booked a hotel and we were going to visit UCLA. We’d made so many plans. I was thinking of going there, and I wanted us to see what our life could be like.”
She beams up at me and my entire body is on fire, a raging inferno. She is my whole world. My past, present, and future. The years without her are meaningless.
I press my forehead to hers, and my eyes flutter closed. “Fuck, Eva.”
The sting of reality, everything we lost, hurts like a bitch. Did we ever stand a chance?
“I wanted some time away with you. Our future was real, and I wanted both of us to see that.”
“I wish we’d had the chance.” My sadness runs deep.
“Me too.” Her eyes shine, and leaning in, she brushes three barely there kisses along my jawline, lingering with the last one.
At the familiar yet foreign act of compassion, my desire to take her mouth, own her, is fierce. I close my eyes, battling to keep myself in check.
She presses the top of her head against my heart for a beat before stepping away. Slowly, my eyes open, and I stare down into her tender gaze.
“Tell me, what did you end up doing with your life? I sing—what do you do?”
“It took a while to figure out what I wanted to do. For a long time, dying was my greatest wish.” She huffs, shaking the fatalistic thought away. “With my injuries and losing you, my recovery was long and hard, full of setbacks.”
We start to walk again, her hand nestled in mine, along the shore. The cool, salty water rushes over our bare feet.
“My greatest struggle was finding calm, getting centered. Take going in a car. I equated cars, even driving, with losing you. I used to have such horrible and frequent panic attacks. So many panic attacks. So much so, they removed all traces of the outside world for fear of triggering an attack. All I had to do was think of you and I’d be plunged into hell for days on end. It felt like I was dying.”
I tuck her closer to me, and she lets me hold her. “I know the feeling.”
She peers up at me, tears dampening her dark lashes. “So much loss, first Mamá and then you. I couldn’t bear another breath without you. Over time, I learned and adopted techniques to help me with the overwhelming despair. I still use many today. That’s when I decided I wanted to go into occupational therapy, specializing in neurorehabilitation. I wanted to work with others who have had similar experiences.”
“Wow, that’s cool. You’ll have to show me sometime—sounds like I could benefit from it.”
“Some of the things I use work for anyone. I’ll show you.”
Her light and hope are a jump start to my dark and battered heart. She gives me a rhythm and reason I’d long ago lost.
“I have to go to New York tonight.” I don’t even stop to think, just wanting her there. “Will you come?”
“Oh.” Her lush lips part, forming an O. “Tonight?”
“Yeah, for business. I’m announcing my solo album soon, and I’ve got some meetings with a PR firm and some of the record execs first thing tomorrow morning. With you here, I don’t want to go, but I have to. I want you with me. Tell me you’ll come.”
Her eyes drop to the sand, the sea foaming and cold on our feet. Then she tilts her head up, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Is Bianca going to be there? I haven’t talked to her since yesterday and I’m not ready to.”
“No. I fired her.”
It’s the first time I stop to really consider what her absence might mean for the business trip. As my manager, she handles these things, but I’m not reaching out to her. I don’t need her.
I’ll text the label and they’ll figure it out. I’m sure they’ll find someone to fill the void. In this business, everyone is dispensable, everyone replaceable.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun, and I’ll see if we can meet up with Eli. He’s gonna love you, and I think he’s gonna be your favorite.”
My former bandmate is the most straitlaced of us all, despite knocking up a groupie and becoming a single dad.
“Impossible. You’re my favorite,” she whispers against my mouth.
My fingers dig into her slender hip, and my other hand cradles the back of her head, leading our kiss.
Sadly, I’ve kissed my fair share of women after us, when I thought she was dead. But the second our lips meld together, my nasty past dissolves. Everything around us disappears.
Gone is the hard-packed sand beneath our feet, the cold salty water pooling around our toes, and the squawking seagulls above our heads.
Her mouth is warm, as sweet as honey, and mine for the taking. I’m exacting, almost severe, and she opens for me. I seize and claim, now gripping her face like I’ll die without her.