Taming the Storm
Page 33
When I don’t immediately respond, he says, “I have a song for every person I’ve lost.”
I want to ask him about the tattoo on his back, but I chicken out.
Instead, I softly say the one person I know he’s lost, “Jonny Creed.”
Tom’s face tightens, pain lancing through his eyes. He nods, and his voice is quiet as he says, “‘Hear You Me.’”
“Jimmy Eat World?”
“His folks played it at his funeral. I’ve listened to it every day since.”
In this moment, I hate that he’s felt pain and still feels it now. It makes me want to go over to him and wrap my arms around him, hold him tight.
But, of course, I do nothing.
“‘Cry Me a River’ isn’t Chad’s song,” I admit.
Tom gives a curious tilt of his head.
“I never told you who Chad cheated on me with.” I take a deep breath, the pain in my chest bursting. “My brother.”
Anger flashes through those green eyes. His expression is still stoic. He braces his arms above him. His hands are gripping the archway, lifting his T-shirt and giving me a glimpse of those fabulous abs of his.
See? Even now, at this moment, while rehashing painful past memories, the sight of him distracts me.
“Dex, my brother. Technically, he’s my cousin, my Aunt Steph and Uncle Paul’s son, but he was my brother where it counted.” I press my hand to my chest. “After I caught them mid-act, Dex admitted that he and Chad had been having an affair for a month. Dex, aside from being my brother and best friend, was also lead guitarist in Vintage. We originally formed the band with Cale. After it happened”—I gestured, unable to say the words, I made my best friends choose between him and me—“he, um…left the band. We replaced him with Van. I haven’t spoken to Dex since.” My hands move to grip the counter edge again.
Tom hasn’t said anything. He’s just staring at me, his jade eyes piercing me, while he’s working his jaw angrily.
I’m not sure as to where his anger is coming from. I can’t believe he would be this angry for me. There definitely has to be some other reason.
Awkward in our silence and confused by his reaction, I start talking again, “The night I caught them together was the night we opened for you at Madison Square Garden. Afterward. While you were performing onstage.”
Tom gives a slight nod, acknowledging but still saying nothing.
“Chad had come along to support us during our big night. After we went offstage, I lost the guys in the excitement, so I was wandering around, trying to find one of them. I got a bit lost, turned a corner, and stumbled upon a couple of guys going at it. I mean, they were actually having sex, and I saw it.” From out of nowhere, my eyes fill with tears, my lip trembling.
“Jesus, Lyla.”
The next thing I know, Tom is pulling me hard to his chest, and his arms are around me, holding me.
Tom is hugging me.
Surprised by his act of compassion, I freeze for a moment before relaxing into him. I slide my arms around his waist until I’m pressing my palms on his back, ignoring how very right this feels.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He runs his hand up my back, his fingers playing over the exposed skin from my tank.
From just those slight touches of his skin on mine, my body is calling for so much more of him. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have his hands all over my body, his lips on mine…him inside me.
I swallow down. “Dex calls me every day. I don’t answer. I have ‘Cry Me a River’ set for him to remind me of how much he hurt me, so I don’t weaken and answer, which is why the song is always in my head.”
“That’s not healthy, Firecracker.” His hand gently strokes my hair.
“I know,” I say quietly. “But it’s all I got right now.”
I hear and feel a murmur of understanding rumble through his chest.
“And you don’t answer his calls because you don’t know how to forgive him.”
“No,” I whisper into his shirt.
His mouth is close to my hair, his breath blowing through the strands.
“Forgiveness is the hardest thing in the world to give. It can take some people a long time to get there. And some never get there at all.”
My heart ratchets up a beat. I lift my head from his chest, looking up at him.
“Just don’t beat yourself up on the trek to it.” He’s smiling at me softly. He tips my chin up with his fingers. “You know, the more I learn about you, Firecracker, the more you make sense to me.”
I don’t even ask what he means by that. I’m not ready to dig any deeper into this moment than what’s already happening.
“So, aside from the music torture, you’re doing okay?” His beautiful eyes are boring into mine.
Tenderness rises in me. I stare right back into his sincere eyes and then at his mouth. The mouth I’m so desperate to reach up and kiss.
I move my eyes past him. “I’m doing okay.”
His fingers move from my chin to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Well, if you find you ever get stuck…you know, getting there, I’m here.”
Looking back to him, I smile. “How do you manage to make everything sound dirty?”
He laughs lightly. “I don’t, Firecracker. Like we established before, you just have a dirty mind.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle as I press my palm flush against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand.
I want to ask him about the tattoo on his back, but I chicken out.
Instead, I softly say the one person I know he’s lost, “Jonny Creed.”
Tom’s face tightens, pain lancing through his eyes. He nods, and his voice is quiet as he says, “‘Hear You Me.’”
“Jimmy Eat World?”
“His folks played it at his funeral. I’ve listened to it every day since.”
In this moment, I hate that he’s felt pain and still feels it now. It makes me want to go over to him and wrap my arms around him, hold him tight.
But, of course, I do nothing.
“‘Cry Me a River’ isn’t Chad’s song,” I admit.
Tom gives a curious tilt of his head.
“I never told you who Chad cheated on me with.” I take a deep breath, the pain in my chest bursting. “My brother.”
Anger flashes through those green eyes. His expression is still stoic. He braces his arms above him. His hands are gripping the archway, lifting his T-shirt and giving me a glimpse of those fabulous abs of his.
See? Even now, at this moment, while rehashing painful past memories, the sight of him distracts me.
“Dex, my brother. Technically, he’s my cousin, my Aunt Steph and Uncle Paul’s son, but he was my brother where it counted.” I press my hand to my chest. “After I caught them mid-act, Dex admitted that he and Chad had been having an affair for a month. Dex, aside from being my brother and best friend, was also lead guitarist in Vintage. We originally formed the band with Cale. After it happened”—I gestured, unable to say the words, I made my best friends choose between him and me—“he, um…left the band. We replaced him with Van. I haven’t spoken to Dex since.” My hands move to grip the counter edge again.
Tom hasn’t said anything. He’s just staring at me, his jade eyes piercing me, while he’s working his jaw angrily.
I’m not sure as to where his anger is coming from. I can’t believe he would be this angry for me. There definitely has to be some other reason.
Awkward in our silence and confused by his reaction, I start talking again, “The night I caught them together was the night we opened for you at Madison Square Garden. Afterward. While you were performing onstage.”
Tom gives a slight nod, acknowledging but still saying nothing.
“Chad had come along to support us during our big night. After we went offstage, I lost the guys in the excitement, so I was wandering around, trying to find one of them. I got a bit lost, turned a corner, and stumbled upon a couple of guys going at it. I mean, they were actually having sex, and I saw it.” From out of nowhere, my eyes fill with tears, my lip trembling.
“Jesus, Lyla.”
The next thing I know, Tom is pulling me hard to his chest, and his arms are around me, holding me.
Tom is hugging me.
Surprised by his act of compassion, I freeze for a moment before relaxing into him. I slide my arms around his waist until I’m pressing my palms on his back, ignoring how very right this feels.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He runs his hand up my back, his fingers playing over the exposed skin from my tank.
From just those slight touches of his skin on mine, my body is calling for so much more of him. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have his hands all over my body, his lips on mine…him inside me.
I swallow down. “Dex calls me every day. I don’t answer. I have ‘Cry Me a River’ set for him to remind me of how much he hurt me, so I don’t weaken and answer, which is why the song is always in my head.”
“That’s not healthy, Firecracker.” His hand gently strokes my hair.
“I know,” I say quietly. “But it’s all I got right now.”
I hear and feel a murmur of understanding rumble through his chest.
“And you don’t answer his calls because you don’t know how to forgive him.”
“No,” I whisper into his shirt.
His mouth is close to my hair, his breath blowing through the strands.
“Forgiveness is the hardest thing in the world to give. It can take some people a long time to get there. And some never get there at all.”
My heart ratchets up a beat. I lift my head from his chest, looking up at him.
“Just don’t beat yourself up on the trek to it.” He’s smiling at me softly. He tips my chin up with his fingers. “You know, the more I learn about you, Firecracker, the more you make sense to me.”
I don’t even ask what he means by that. I’m not ready to dig any deeper into this moment than what’s already happening.
“So, aside from the music torture, you’re doing okay?” His beautiful eyes are boring into mine.
Tenderness rises in me. I stare right back into his sincere eyes and then at his mouth. The mouth I’m so desperate to reach up and kiss.
I move my eyes past him. “I’m doing okay.”
His fingers move from my chin to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Well, if you find you ever get stuck…you know, getting there, I’m here.”
Looking back to him, I smile. “How do you manage to make everything sound dirty?”
He laughs lightly. “I don’t, Firecracker. Like we established before, you just have a dirty mind.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle as I press my palm flush against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand.
