Page 81 of Broken Bridges

This was going to be a fucking great weekend.

Chapter 24

TIA

I woke next to Lewis late the following morning in a tangle of bedsheets. Lying with my cheek against his shoulder, I glided my fingers over his collarbone, then traced the outer edge of the horned, bullock’s head tattoo that covered most of his chest. I tilted my head back to look at him. “Why did you get this tattoo?”

He stared at the ceiling, took a deep breath, then met my gaze. Sadness darkened his eyes. “To remind me to be fearless. To face things head on. To fight for what I believe in and who I am.”

His words struck the center of my chest. He bore some heartbreaking scars most would never see. But they’d given him an underlying strength that was admirable. “Is that about being gay? Or life in general?”

“Both. Pop taught me to be strong and to be true to myself. He never judged me, never cared about my sexuality, never hesitated in taking me in. He helped me through college, vetoed my boyfriends, and got my ass out of trouble on more than one occasion. He was awesome.”

“You miss him?”

“Every day.” Lewis entwined our fingers and held them against his chest. His eyes turned glassy. “He was always so full of life. The community adored him. He was always helping people, offering meals to the homeless, and surrounded by friends. Pop felt like home. He always just loved me for me.”

And now, here Lewis was, with me in my bed. We were on a journey to see if this was something that could survive and not just a steamy fling. We had to be true to ourselves and see if we were worth fighting for. The path ahead was nowhere near clear.

He rubbed the back of my head. “What about your folks? Did they mess you up like mine did me?”

He made a joke of it but being disowned would screw anyone up. “They were never around much when Cole and I were kids. They’re workaholics. Mom’s now CEO of a big French pharmaceutical company. Dad was an engineer, designing infrastructure road networks, but now he just consults on various projects.” I’d never miss their hounding and nagging. “They always pushed us to excel at school. Mom was a real tiger mom. We had tutors for everything, or babysitters—whichever way you look at it. We had to do music, sport, chess, debating. We had to be the best at everything. We got top grades. But no matter how much our parents tried to sway us toward the corporate world, Cole loved drumming and I wanted to be an action star.”

Lewis drew tiny light circles across my back and played with the long strands of my hair. “But they never stopped you, right?”

“No, they didn’t.” I’d never deny that. “Doesn’t mean they were happy. Even now, they keep telling us how disappointed they are in our career choices. We should be saving the world and building a better future, not playing around. For them, it’s not about the money and fame—it’s business prestige and academic accolades.”

“Do you see them often?”

“No.” My hand fell softly from his hold onto his chest. As I circled his nipples with my fingertip, little goose bumps dotted his skin. “I saw them at Phil’s funeral. Before that...um...maybe when I came to LA for the Emmys the year before that. Our paths rarely cross—not even for the holidays. They aren’t involved in my life or Cole’s. It’s less stressful this way. There’s less arguments and bickering.”

“Yeah. I don’t miss the fights I had at home when I was a kid, or those I had with my old band, or my ex. Emilio used to dig at me all the time for not being a huge star. For me, music has never been about the money—always the passion.”

“I was that way about stunt work too.” I whispered against his skin. “It over-ruled wanting to be an actor. I was lucky I got to do both.” With light strokes, I traced his collarbone, the line of his shoulder and down his arm, and stopped at the inked pair of playing cards on his bicep—a jack of hearts and diamonds. “What about this tattoo?”

He flexed his arm, bulging his toned biceps toward me. Nice. He smiled a small smile. “One night playing cards with Hayden and Reg, just after my twenty-first, I lost a shitload of money. I was a dick, being a cocky asshole, thinking I’d won. They wiped me out. That’s the hand I lost with. That tattoo is my reality check to not be a stupid imbecile ever again.”

“I can’t imagine you being cocky about anything other than music.”

“I’m not cocky.” He playfully tapped the back of my head.

“You are, but not in an arrogant, asshole way.” I lifted my chin to look up at him again. “You light up when you play with the guys, perform on stage, or when you find that touch of magic for a song. Your talent was wasted on The Saylors. Trust your gut, your skill, your creative ideas. The guys love that. There is nothing sexier than confidence.”

“I’m a musician. There will always be self-doubt.” He combed his fingers through my hair. “I’m still finding my feet and earning my place in the band. But yes, I’m getting better and more comfortable.”

I stabbed my finger against his chest. “You’ve earned it. You’ve survived promo. You’ve met the next milestone to do the album launch.”

“Yeah. I did, didn’t I?” He caught my hand and kissed it. “God, I want to make tour.”

The passion in his tone struck a chord in my heart. I missed doing what I loved. “I hope you do too.” I lowered my voice. “I need to find something that makes me want to leap out of bed every morning again. I miss my daily hit of adrenaline and excitement at work.” I planted a light kiss on his chest. “All I know is...I want to leave my show at the end of this season. It’s not me. I talked to Jack, my agent, and I have him looking for new roles. If something doesn’t come up, maybe I’ll go back to school and change careers completely.”

“You’d quit acting?” His eyes widened in an I’m-intrigued way, not with an are-you-mad kind of startlement. “But you’re a huge star.”

“For me, it’s never been about fame and money, but action and thrills. If Through the Smoke had ended, and nothing as action-packed had come my way, I would’ve been happy just being a stunt person. It’s been hard to accept I can’t do what I love anymore. But I need to find something more exhilarating than what I’m doing now. So, I’m looking at my options and movie roles where the shoots aren’t as long as TV shows.”

“I can see you in movies. That would be cool.” He swept my hair off my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. “But school? You’d go back to studying?”

“Yes. I’ve been looking at some TV and film courses, but nothing has caught my interest.”

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