STONED (Wrecked Book 1) (18 page)

“Yeah, man. Just thinking about Wills.” Shrugging sheepishly, I glance over at him before letting my gaze settle back on Willow. “I haven’t had to share her like this in forever, not even with you guys really. Not like this.” My voice is pitched low so that it doesn’t travel. “It’s fucking with my head a little. There’s never been a time that she wasn’t mine and that music wasn’t ours. Ya know?” Law just nods, because Willow starts speaking into the mic.

“Bear? Where you at? I need some help on this next one, eh?” I hadn’t heard her drop an “eh” in so long it instantly brings a smile to my face. We teased her ass all the fucking time when she first came to Austin to live with her aunt ‘til eventually she just stopped using it.

“You crazy woman, I’m not coming up there to look bad,” a big voice booms from the bar. Glancing behind me, I see the huge burly fucker that was with her at the school. Chewing on the inside of my lip I watch the exchange and without thinking I stand up.

“I’ll let you make me look bad,” I announce, smiling at her calmly even though my heart is beating out a staccato I’m not sure I will survive. She probably still can’t see me because of the way the stage lights are positioned, but she knows my voice. Better than anyone. I see the shock, and then the resignation flash across her face.

“Holy fucking fuck,” Judge grumbles. There’s no way we won’t be recognized now. Ask me if I give a fuck though.

“I’m sure you don’t know it; it’s not one of yours,” she says haughtily, dismissing me. She’s scared. Willow knows damn well that there’s not a song on the planet that I don’t fucking know. Unless it’s one that she’s written in the last few months. If that’s the case though, it’ll take me thirty seconds to learn it and she knows that shit first hand. Nah, Wills is scared, and scared is good for me.

“Oh, I’m sure I can wing it.” Sauntering up to the stage I hop up and pull another stool from the corner and pick up the guitar in the stand next to it, “Bear” etched into the wood. I glance up and raise the guitar in his direction, asking permission to use it. He nods, not happy but not wanting to cause a scene since we have every motherfucking person’s attention on us, the din in the bar growing as the patrons try to place me. Willow covers the mic and leans toward me, “What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses as I test the sound of the Fender. Smiling to find it tuned perfectly.

“Singing a song with my favorite duet partner,” I say to her like this is the norm for us. Like she wants me here as much as I want to be here with her. I can see how very untrue that is. Then right before me, her stance loosens and she smiles the sweetest, most evil smile at me, and it’s clear I’m going to hate what comes next. It’s either gonna be some fuck awful song or it’s going to be a direct message to me, and knowing my Birdie, it’s a message.

“Well, it must be your lucky night, you guys,” she says to the crowd eyes on me. “My friend and I are going to sing another Johnnyswim song. I’m in a mood clearly.” Wills sets the song up for me and I groan inwardly. She’s going to wreck me, right here in front of everyone, and I volunteered for this shit. My chin hits my chest as I take a deep breath and let my fingers take over. Willow begins singing, not looking at me until I join in with my verse. There are so many emotions playing across her face, in her eyes, as she sings to me now. I chase after each one, holding on to the ones I need to make me whole again.

Everyone in the crowded bar is forgotten as she sings, “Get out of my heart. Get out of my mind . . .” and even as I repeat the verse back to her, pinning her with my icy grays, I plead with her to let me back in. Plead with her to see that this isn’t our song.

Our voices mingle and then fade as we strum the last chords. The moment we finish, the crowd explodes in applause. Willow and I still staring at the other. It’s been so long since we’ve sung together my emotions are like a big fucking mosh pit right now. My breathing is ragged as I watch her watching me. Her eyes glassy with tears I can see that she’s fighting. Singing with her was always a powerful aphrodisiac—she exudes passion, and so much damn heart, it’s impossible to not want her. Everything inside of me right now is screaming for her. Just the smallest taste. Ever so slowly I lean closer, almost close enough to get my lips on her when the house lights come up, temporarily blinding me. By the time I can see again Wills is up and stalking off the stage to a waiting Bear, arms crossed over his barrel chest. I’m pretty sure the man eats small children for breakfast. He’s massive and unsmiling and wicked fucking protective over Wills, which I don’t like. Only so many reasons a man gets like that about a woman.

Rising, I carry the stool and the guitar back to their places and take my time descending the stage. A few people have put two and two together and realize who I am and ask for my autograph, but most hang back and admire from a distance, which I am extremely thankful for. I glance up from signing a napkin to see Willow and Bear speaking, heads bent low together. Excusing myself, I make my way through the throng of people milling about to where the two stand. I’m met by Law, Ro, and Judge just as I come upon her.

“Get your pretty little ass over here,” Law booms, grabbing Willow up in a crushing hug, spinning her around in a circle, raining kisses on her the whole time. Her head tossed back, she laughs at his antics, begging to be put down. The moment he does she’s scooped up by Ro. Judge finally getting his turn, swallows her in a hug and says something to her that has her smiling sadly before she pecks him on the cheek. A pang of guilt hits me. I took them away from her, and her them. We were all she had with her aunt having passed away years ago. We had become her only family and I took that from her.

“You guys, I want you to meet my good friend, Bear,” Willow says, putting her hand on his arm and smiling up at him adoringly, making my jaw clench and the boys all shift uneasily. Probably because they’re unsure of how I’m going to react, how it will affect me. “Bear, this is my family, Lawson, Arrow, and Judge.” The word “family” rolling off of her tongue with love and not a moment’s hesitation.

They take turns shaking the man’s hand while I stand there and wait. It doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone that she excluded me from the introduction. It wasn’t easy for her to do; I can tell by the way she watches me out of the corner of her eye, how she chews on the inside of her cheek. Finally, she breaks and turns to me, “And this is Stone, though you two have kind of already met.” Trying to be the bigger man, I raise my arm to shake his hand. When he doesn’t offer his, I let mine fall to my side. Clearly she’s told him about me. Bear and I are embroiled in an intense stare down when Ro breaks in. “Willow, how in the hell did you find this place? I totally fucking dig it. Reminds me of that little place back home.” Still holding the big man’s hateful glare I listen to Wills talk excitedly about the bar.

“It was completely by accident, but the moment I stepped through the doors I just knew. Then by some miracle Bear and his wife had mercy on me, let me pick up some shifts here and there, then one night I somehow ended up on stage during an open mic and started playing a couple days a week.” Slowly her words sink in and I turn to her.

“Bear’s wife?”

She glances over at me. “Yeah, Cora. She’s not here right now, but they own this place.” My eyes dart to Bear who’s smirking at me knowingly. The fucker. “Ro, she reminds me so much of your ma, except not as—” She searches for the word and Arrow cuts in, “Hippy? Free spirited? Crazy?” he says jokingly. Arrow Sandoval has an awesome mom who is one with the Earth and into all kinds of New Age type shit. His name is Arrow for fuck’s sake, and it was the tamest of all his siblings. Willow laughs, as do the rest of the guys.

“No, they’re just both so nurturing I guess.” She shrugs. “Good people. But your mom is soft where Cora is kinda take no shit.” Willow smiles fondly as she speaks of the woman. It makes me feel a little better knowing that she has them. Especially now that I know Bear isn’t into Wills. I’m about to ask her what made her try the open mic night since it wasn’t her thing when the lights dim again, signaling another band hitting the stage. Judge puts his hand to Willow’s back and guides her to our table. “Judge, I really should go; I have a class to teach in the morning,” she tries.

“No way, Willow. It took us months to find you and then we searched for this place all week. You’re sitting with us for a few minutes before you try running away again,” Law informs her, only half kidding as she reluctantly allows Judge to help her into a chair. I slide into the one beside her, doing my best not to touch her although I want to so bad. We all sit except for Bear who is speaking to a young kid, maybe a bar back. Our waitress comes over, removing our empties and asking if we’d like another round. Arrow says we would and she turns her attention to Willow. “Another tea, sweets?” Willow glances over at Bear, my gaze following. He nods his head in agreement of whatever silent question she’s just asked, making her mouth “thank you” before turning back to the girl waiting on her answer. “Thanks, Carleen. Bear has it.” The server nods and turns to get our drinks from the bar. I’m confused as fuck about what just went down but let it go for now.

“You still drinking hot tea when you sing, huh, Wills?” Not able to help myself, I nudge her leg with mine, making us both freeze at the electrical current that small touch brought on.

“Some habits are hard to break,” Willow says resolutely as if she doesn’t want to acknowledge me or she hates that I remember. I refuse to make it easy for her to forget my presence or to shut me out. My lips pressed to her ear so that I can be heard over the band now playing I ask, “You still putting Fireball in it when it’s cold out?”

Shaking her head, no, “I don’t drink anymore,” she tells me dismissively.

Her eyes dart away from my surprised gaze but come right back when I say, “Me either.”

The puzzled look on her face makes me chuckle softly. “I told you I went to rehab. Gave it all up except for the smokes and the lollipops. I have too many fond memories of those.” I wink and she flushes, remembering just what we’ve done with those sweet treats.

“You’re in a bar, and you’re not drinking?” she asks dubiously, just as our server comes over and places a bottle in front of me, causing Willow to raise her eyebrows and roll her eyes at me in disgust. “I almost believed you for a second. You keep tricking me with these glimpses of the old Stone before the asshole Stone shows up again.” Her tone is biting and I want nothing more than to kiss the doubt and disappointment off her beautiful face.

“Hey, Carleen, was it? Can I have a frosted mug for my root beer please?” I ask, my eyes on Willow, a smug smile tipping the corner of my mouth up. My Birdie found the backbone she was missing those last few months of me beating her down with my words and stupid fucking actions. It makes my heart swell with pride that she didn’t let me win. Sad that I have to think like that, but I’m aware that I was a bastard. I never wanted to be that guy again. Because of her. If it weren’t for Willow, I’d be that guy in a second. I loved being high. Wouldn’t bother me at all that people didn’t like me, as long as I was coked out of my mind. Willow was the difference. My salvation. I want to be her guy again because she will always be my girl. That thought is what’s going to keep me sober. I’ll never stop trying to be the “old Stone” for her.

Stone

BY SOME MIRACLE, WE CONVINCE
Wills to sit with us for just a little longer. Long enough for the band to finish their set and the noise in the bar to be bearable. Even if she won’t look at me or speak to me unless I ask her a direct question. None of that shit matters when I can breathe in her scent. Listen to her laugh at something Law says and feel the heat of her body as she does her best to sit as far away from me as she can although she’s in the chair right next to me.

I told the boys about the baby but asked them not to say anything. I don’t want to put her on the spot, but now that I know that Bear is married and not her man, we’re going to have to have a little talk.

While they’re busy talking about the new album, I lean in as close as she’ll allow and ask, “How’s Lyric?” She stiffens, not looking at me when she answers.

“She’s fine.” That’s it. That’s all I get. I’ll take it.

Lawson is in the middle of telling a story about the last time we were all together at Arrow’s mom’s house when I feel someone standing next to me. Glancing up I see a somewhat familiar face, but it’s hard to tell in the darkened bar.

“Willow?” he calls out, her head whipping up searching him out. When she sees who it is calling her name, she smiles brightly. Too brightly. It’s not just me who sees that devastating smile because all of a sudden the table has gone quiet.

“Joaquin!” Willow stands and walks right into his arms, and I watch in horror as he kisses her. First one cheek. That causes a pang in my chest. Then the other cheek. This one causing my stomach to clench. And then on the mouth. Which causes my heart to fucking shatter before my blood starts to boil. Maybe this guy has a wife too. Another Bear who appears to be more threatening than he is? I hold on to that hope until his name registers. Joaquin Danjou. Joaquin motherfucking Danjou and my girl. You have got to be fucking kidding me. With a clenched fist I stand up, Lawson materializing right beside me. He steps around my rigid form, effectively pushing me behind him and extends his hand.