STONED (Wrecked Book 1) (30 page)

Stone’s voice as he sings a Sam Hunt song that I’m certain he’s playing for my benefit, filters past the door, trickling through the walls it seems, to reach out and wrap me up in the words. I stomp over and close the door, trying to tame the reaction his voice evokes.

“I’m not Team Stone. I just—I just think I misjudged the guy,” Bear says.

“Misjudged? Bear, he would get high and forget about me. Cheat on me. Kick me out of our fucking hotel room with some skank clinging to him.” Bear knows what happened that night, the why’s and where’s and the consequences. He doesn’t need the reminder any more than I do.

“I know, Willow. I know.” He sighs and takes my hand. “I’m going to tell you something not even Cora knows.” He takes a deep breath, watching me. “My older brother was an addict.” Bear pauses and I flinch at his words.

“Jonah?”

He nods. “I never told Cora because I didn’t want her to look at him any differently. It was when I was in college. He had only been married a couple years, baby on the way when he fell at work and hurt his back.” With a small shake of his head he goes on, “The pain pills got him. Then when he couldn’t get those anymore, someone turned him on to meth. Nasty shit that is,” Bear spits out in disgust. “He would act out, and do stuff he never would, say things to hurt you one minute and apologize the next. I’d never seen mood swings like that. I even talked to his wife about maybe him being bipolar, you know, since our mom was.” Bear sighs. “This went on for over a year. Then came the other women, the lying, the sneaking around. It all became more and more obvious and I knew something was seriously wrong. My brother loved his wife. Had since we were kids. He was a good man, an honest man. This wasn’t my brother.”

Hearing him say these things is like listening to him talk about Stone. Not that all addicts are the same, but the similarities are there and my heart breaks for his wife. I know all too well what she went through. Loving an addict is not easy. Especially when they’re hellbent on tearing everything apart.

“I finally confronted him and for weeks he denied it. But I couldn’t let it go. This was my big brother, the man I looked up to, aspired to be like. My best friend. So I started following him. I caught him with some random woman and a bag of meth, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. I gave him an ultimatum, either he checked into rehab or I called the cops.” Bear smiles. “He’s been clean for over a decade now.” I smile along with him. I’ve met Jonah and his family a few times, been to their house for barbecues even. He’s a great guy. I never would have guessed that he’d been through all that. Nor Roby, his wife. They’re so in love.

“I look at Stone and I see my brother. I can’t help it,” Bear says. “I look at him and Lawson going to meetings every couple days and I’m brought back to a time when I would sit in the back of some room in a church basement with Jonah because he was having a bad day or just needed to know that he wasn’t alone. I have a pretty good idea about what he’s going through, and although I’m not Team Stone, I am Team Jonah, and it wouldn’t be fair to my brother if I looked down upon Stone for being a recovering addict who made a shit ton of fucking mistakes, eh?” He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m also Team Willow and only want what’s best for you. I’m not saying it’s him, because only you can know that. All I’m saying is let’s not condemn the man for his sins when he’s trying so damn hard to make them right.” He looks down at me and smiles almost sheepishly, “I heard every word the other day at the studio. It takes a real man to admit all of that, Willow.” Squeezing me tight he releases me and walks out of the break room, letting in the velvety sound of Stone, the words “
You can say we’re done the way you always do, it’s easier to lie to me than to yourself . . .”
finding their way to me. Like a message. A message I can’t argue with. God damn Sam Hunt and Stone Lockhart.

Going over to the employee lockers, I open mine and yank out my stuff and stride out of the bar, not slowing, doing my best not to falter when Stone croons, “
We don’t have to miss each other . . . Come over . . .”

Insides a mess, tears already in my eyes, guilt and sadness eating at me, I stand at Joaquin's door, waiting anxiously for him to answer. After what seems like an eternity but is barely a minute, he opens. A look of melancholy on his handsome face, hair a tussled, sexy mess. He smiles sadly and stands aside for me to enter.

“I’m sorry it's so late. I tried to call, but it just went right to voi—” my voice trails off when I see the broken phone strewn on the coffee table. Like he had been trying to put the shattered pieces back together again. It’s almost metaphorical. “We need to talk.” There’s a tremble in my voice that I can’t hide.

Joaquin sighs loudly. “I knew this was coming. From that first day he showed up. I knew we would have this talk.” Not mad, just . . . resigned, he stalks over to the wet bar in the corner of his sunken living room. All floor to ceiling windows behind him, the lights of Toronto winking at us from below. “I need a drink. Care for one?” he asks with raised eyebrows. Of all the times I’ve wished I hadn’t given up drinking, this is one that tests me the most.

“No, thank you,” I murmur. Giving him space to fix his drink, I think about all I want to say. How I want to say it and what it means for both of us. I didn’t enter into this with him lightly. It was something I wanted. He was someone I wanted.

“As soon as he started singing tonight, I knew I was fucked,” Joaquin says, swearing uncharacteristically, before taking a swig from his glass. “I thought I’d dodged the bullet at the award show when you got up so that you wouldn’t have to see him perform.” He looks at me knowingly and I flush. I knew I wasn’t fooling him. “You got up and I breathed a little easier. Then he sang a song called ‘Willow’ and I damn near rejoiced that you weren’t there to hear it. I mean, I was taken by him after that performance,” Joaquin tries to kid. “I never let myself dwell on
why
you couldn’t stay,
chèrie
. And that was my first mistake.” The ice in his tumbler tinkles as he makes his way from behind the bar area to stand in front of me. “I let you avoid the truth so that I could do the same. So you see, we’re both to blame.” His smile is gentle, but doesn’t reach his eyes. Very carefully, his eyes following his movements, he takes my hair and drapes it over my shoulder, letting his fingers glide through the strands. Stroking over it softly, I can see him contemplating his next words, see them churning around, gearing up to actually voice them. “Have you been sleeping with him, Willow?” His eyes land on mine, holding me there until I answer. They’re the color of dark chocolate, and just as intense.

“No,” I answer simply. Never breaking our gaze or wavering. I see the moment he believes me and know that it doesn’t matter. I’ll be leaving here tonight nothing more than an eventual friend. I can’t lie to him by omitting the truth. “I never slept with him.” Softly I confess, “But I wanted to.” Joaquin sucks in a breath and closes his eyes briefly. Before he can say anything, I finish with the confession, “He kissed me. The other day. I told him that I wouldn’t cheat on you and he left. Nothing else happened though.”

His jaw hardens with anger. “The other day? When? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“A couple days ago and I had every intention of telling you. Honestly,” I add, when he gives me a doubtful glance before stalking away from me. “We were just having such a nice night, I didn’t want to ruin it, and I knew if I said anything that it would. It was the first time in a couple weeks that things weren’t awkward, so I decided to just enjoy it. It was wrong and I’m sorry, but I really did plan on telling you this evening at dinner.” Once he reaches the windows on the far wall, he turns back to me.

“Am I supposed to thank you for that? Thank you for not fucking him, especially when you wanted to? Thank you for
only
kissing him? Forgive me,
chèrie
, if I’m not so willing to shower you with gratitude,” he bites out. I let him. He’s angry and hurt, and that’s the only reason he’s speaking to me like he is. Any other day, I wouldn’t stand for it, but I let him lash out. It doesn’t last long.

With thumb and forefinger, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m angry but that’s no excuse to speak to you like that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I was stupid to think that I could just get over him. I truly did believe it though, Joaquin. I would never have started anything with you if I didn’t truly and honestly believe it.”

“What happened then,
chèrie
?” His voice is soft, his accent heavy.

“He came back.” I shrug. “I was okay, not great, when he wasn’t present. When he wasn’t here, in my face, reminding me of everything we shared, all we used to be, I was able to get through my day without all of the memories. But now with him here, I can’t ignore them,” I confess.

“So just like that you’re going to go back to him after everything?” There’s disappointment dripping from every word.

Shaking my head, I try to clear my throat of the tears. “No. I don’t know. I just know that the way I feel isn’t fair to you. I feel like I’m in limbo with him here, and I can’t, won’t, do that to you.” I swipe at the tears on my face. The ones rapidly following and spilling onto my shirt, a lost cause. If only they could cleanse me of the pain I feel right now. “If it weren’t for him, I could fall in love with you and we could be happy. I’m sure we could be. I care for you so much it kills me to let you go.” My voice cracks on the emotions choking me.

“Then don’t.”

“JD-”

“No, Willow. Just don’t. Let’s go to Montreal. You and Lyric can move into my place and we can get away from all of this shit. We don’t have to be over. I don’t want us to be over,” he pleads softly.

With my heart beating wildly, “I can’t hide from him forever. What kind of life would that be, constantly hiding from Stone because I can’t control the way I feel about him?”

“It would be different in time.” His argument is weak; we both know it.

“It’s been almost two years, Joaquin. Two years filled with so much pain and rebuilding. So much. And yet, here we are, and I can’t hurt you anymore than I already have and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” I bring a hand to his face, running a thumb over his downturned mouth peeking through the ebony softness of his beard. “I could love you. I know I could because you’re you and everything calm and good I want in my life. And Stone is chaos. Choosing between the calm and chaos of love should be a no-brainer. But it’s not.” Taking a deep breath and letting my hand fall to his arm, “I can’t love you like you deserve to be loved. I can never love anyone the way that I did . . . do, Stone. Unfortunately, I don’t think that will change no matter if we’re together again in this lifetime or the next. I was blind to think that it could.” The tears are still falling, my heart is breaking for what could’ve been, but I know that I’m doing the right thing. Joaquin knows it’s the right thing. He may not be happy with me now, but in the long run, given time, he’ll see.

Taking his face in mine, I rise up on my tiptoes and place one last lingering kiss on his warm lips. One kiss to convey so much. A goodbye, a thank you, an apology. As I break away, he pulls me back for just a second, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine before letting me go reluctantly.

“Goodbye, Joaquin.”

“Goodbye, Willow.”

Stone

I’VE BEEN BACK IN AUSTIN
for exactly thirty-six hours and all I can think about is Willow and getting back to her and Lyric. We spent the first week in LA at the label’s headquarters and then here at the satellite offices going over shit I’m not ready for. Maybe it’s because my mind is on the girls and getting back to Toronto. I threw Wills off the other night at The Dirty Bird. She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts since. It was a huge public display and it was in front of her boyfriend. Which, I’m not gonna fucking lie, was just a bonus. Let him see what he’s up against. But now I don’t know if she’s pissed or what, and I’m stuck in meetings and shit for the next few days in a completely different country.

“Stone, are you even listening to me?” The soft feminine voice cuts into my thoughts. I shake my head no and adjust the lolli in my mouth. I used to call them suckers ’til Wills demanded I call them lollies because she hated the word “sucker.” Crazy ass. I chuckle to myself causing an exasperated huff. “I said I want to be here with you, but if you’re going to be in Canada, I’d like to go there, at least for a couple days. I haven’t spent enough time with you. I miss you.”