Page 26 of For Puck's Sake

“Good. Then you can think about all the ways I’m going to fuck you later. Because there will be a later, Angel. I guarantee it.” Brea huffs out a laugh at my declaration, but she doesn’t tell me no. I take that as a win. Yes, I’m being brazen, but what is it they say, a closed mouth doesn’t get fed.

“You’re so certain, Mr. Masters,” she says playfully. “I’m a sure thing, huh?”

I growl mischievously, gripping the steering wheel, narrowing my eyes as I shift my gaze to her quickly before refocusing on the road again. “Then I will take my prize now, give me your soaked panties. If I can’t have you tonight, I want to be able to smell the effect I have on your body, carry it around with me all night as a reminder.”

Brea’s eyes widen comically. “I can’t give you my panties, Rid. I will be sitting on a stool and singing for the rest of the night, remember.”

I shrug. “Not my problem, Angel. I told you what I want. Give me your panties or give me your body, beautiful. The choice is yours, but either way, I want you wet and dripping for me all night.”

Her mouth falls open and I can’t help myself. I reach over with my hand and gently touch her chin, pressing up until her mouth is closed. “Don’t be shocked, Luna. I’m still the same man you fell in love with, filthy mouth and all.”

“Ridley.” Brea smiles, mouth opening with what I am sure is a sassy retort, but her facial expression falls, becoming neutral and her comeback doesn’t come. I continue to drive, waiting patiently for her to pull her thoughts together, but as we get closer to Solo Red’s my composure slips, and concern follows. Is she having second thoughts? Did I say something wrong? For a brief second, she was right there with me, we were us, teasing and playful, now she’s lost in her head, staring outside. She promised to talk to me, and damn it, I am not going to let her fall back into old habits so soon.

The drive from Tor’s to the main strip of town is a short one. Obviously, not long enough for Brea to break the stalemate between us. I want to say something yet also give her the space she needs to speak first, but navigating all of this is complicated.

So, I give her space and take in the picturesque sight of Lark Bay at sunset. The sun is going down, painting the sky in beautiful pink, orange, and purple brushstrokes. The bay sparkles in the last sunlight, the water moving languidly in the distance as the tide begins to go out for the night. Families are still milling around, enjoying the last dregs of another summer day, the shops are closing, giving way to Lark Bay’s nightlife.

Red’s bar won’t be busy for another hour, but people are already lining up on the sidewalk to see Brea. I’ve been there almost every night, and I’ve watched these lines grow with every performance. I’m in awe of her success. I’m proud of my Angel’saccomplishments, and yes, there’s a part of me that believes maybe Red was right when she said Brea wouldn’t have this if she’d stayed with me. The reality of that truth stings like a bitch, but here we are. It doesn’t do me any good to speculate whether she would or wouldn’t be just as successful or not. None of that matters now. I’m celebrating her today, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives if she will let me. I’m going to be the fanboy for a change. I will cheer my girl on from the ice or in the audience. I just want her to know I am in this with her, no matter the complications.

Pulling into the parking lot at the back of the bar, I find a spot and ease my car into it only to find a glaring Dean waiting at the back door. He checks his watch, then narrows his eyes as he stares me down. That’s right, asshole, I’m dropping her off. Mine.I stare right back, hoping it goes without saying what this means. Although, I wouldn’t mind talking it out with brute force. If it were up to me, Dean wouldn’t be anywhere near Brea but that’s not my decision to make, unfortunately. After weeks of performing in the same venue, you would think she wouldn’t have to arrive so early every day. But God forbid Brea doesn’t show up on time for sound check. Glancing at my watch, she is indeed not late, so the fact that he is standing out here like he has a right to scold her only makes me want to bloody up his face even more. No, this is Dean’s own form of possessive control, but there is only one man possessing the woman sitting stoically beside me. Yes, it’s me.

The passenger door opens, pulling my eyes away from Dean. Brea picks up Bessie to get out of the car, but there is no way I’m leaving us like this. Reaching out, I run my hand over her arm, making her pause. Brea turns and looks over her shoulders, brows lifting in question, then her eyes soften, and she blows out a breath.

“I’m not running, Ridley. I want what you want. I really do,” she replies shoulders slumping forward and all I want to do is wrap her up and tell her not to worry, because I have a feeling I know where this is going. “We have three weeks, Rid, then I’m leaving for Austin. What’s the point of starting over when we?—"

“I love you, Luna,” I say without a shadow of doubt. My feelings may have lain dormant inside me for these past few years without her, but nothing’s changed. My heart knows. “I can’t express how very proud of you I truly am, baby. But know this, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that will stand in my way when it comes to keeping you. I know you are concerned about the time we have left. But I say don’t be. Let’s live in the now with each other, enjoy every minute of it. It won’t end in three weeks,” I say reassuringly. I let my hand on her arm travel down until I link my fingers with hers.

“We tried to make it work before, though,” she rebuffs, her face pinched in concern.

“Did we though? We both could have done things differently back then, but the blinders were on both of us, Angel. I didn’t see what you needed from me, and you honestly didn’t trust me enough to let me know you were struggling,” I say, hoping this doesn’t hit a nerve, but Brea just looks at me with a small smile, nodding her head slowly as if she’s impressed with me.

“So astute, Mr. Masters.” Brea lifts our joined hands to her lips and kisses the back of my hand. My heart cracks wide open with the gesture. There she is. Brea blows out another fortifying breath then drops our hands in her lap. “Okay, we enjoy the time we have. We don’t worry about the ticking clock. This is for the rest of our lives, right?” She looks at me hesitantly, like I’m going to rebut her words.

Leaning over the center console, knowing we have an audience I capture her lips with mine. “Yes, Angel, this is for the rest of our lives,” I say against her lips.

Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Brea Brookes has finally caught on. Now I just have to make it stick that we are forever.

SIXTEEN

BREA

“Is there something you want to tell me, B?” Dean asks, following me inside Red’s with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his new permanent scowl on his face. I guess he’s choosing to be dramatic tonight. I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. Patting him on the back, reassuring, and cajoling him is not my ministry in his regard.

The sound of house music streams down the halls leading from the back of the bar. I tune out his huff of frustration, humming to Coco Jones’s ‘Here We Go’as I make my way to the front. Refusing to let him spoil my Ridley-induced high, I continue to hum as I make my way on stage. Weaving through empty tables and chairs, I make a mental note to use this song for one of my covers on tour. I absolutely love it. I look around for Red quickly, but I don’t see her at the bar. She’s probably in the kitchen barking orders like the drill sergeant she is. Things have been so busy lately she’s had to hire extra staff for the rest of my time here. I would apologize, but my girl is getting mad notoriety, and people are flocking to Solo Red’s in droves. I don’tthink I will be the last major artist to perform here in Lark Bay, and I am glad I can leave her with this legacy.

“B, my question comes from concern, you know,” Dean calls out from behind me, butting into my thoughts as he continues to follow me. “Ignore me all you want, but I am responsible for you while we’re out here on the road.”

I make my way to the stage and place Bessie’s case down and turn to face him. I will not get angry, unlike him, I’m choosing peace. Inclining my head, I try to give him an ‘I’m not irritated look’ with a hard thin-lipped smile. It’s the same smile I used to give my parents any time I had to agree to things I didn’t like.

“Do you like the job, Dean? Seriously? Or would you rather go back to Seattle and do your own thing? We both know you could be just as successful as me. So, why are you still following me around under the pretense of being my road manager?” I have asked Dean similar questions like this for months now and all I’ve received in return is that he likes helping me more. But I call bullshit. There is something he wants, but unfortunately for Dean, I’m off the table. Now, it all just seems forced between us. I don’t even ask him to perform with me during the show because the chemistry isn’t there, it’s awkward. I move to unzip my guitar case and pull Bessie out, giving her a stroke down her shiny ebony body. It’s a habit and something I do before every show. Yep, I’m one of those musicians, a creature of creative habit.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t still want to be,” Dean finally replies, looking down at his shoes, as if they’re the most important thing in the world. But I know differently. He doesn’t want me to see the truth in his eyes. No matter how many times I’ve shut him down about us, his feelings remain. I also know he’s upset about Ridley and me, but fuck it, I’m a grown woman. He is not my father, and I don’t give damn about what he thinkseither, so I’m definitely not going to explain myself to someone I was with a few regretful times.

I’m not normally an asshole, but lately with Dean, it’s the only behavior I muster. Dragging my stool forward, I perch on the edge, cursing my dress choice. That’s what I get for trying to tempt Ridley, now I have to be extra careful not to flash my vajayjay to the crowd. Cradling Bessie, I look up, almost forgetting I am having a reproaching conversation with D. “Good,” I say, nodding my head in finality. “Make sure you tell me when you don’t want to be though, D. Don’t let your feelings for me hold you back.”

His head snaps back like I’ve slapped him, then his scowl deepens. “As long as you don’t let him do the same,” he replies. “I’ll get the house music.” He turns to walk away just as Ridley saunters through, all swaggery and shit. Damn it. I think I’ve held back long enough with him. He stops and looks from me to Dean, but Dean just holds his hands up in surrender. I’m not sure if Rid heard any of our exchange, but by the menacing look he’s giving Dean, I’m certain he did.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I think you need to mind your own business,” Ridley says with a toothy grin, the same one I’ve only seen him use after he’s thrown his helmet off to fight on the ice.

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