Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) (22 page)

B
riar

A
bbi skidded
around the corner of Simon and Ella’s small living room, her socks causing her to slide like Tom Cruise in that one movie.

“Tell me you haven’t been online this morning,” she panted. She tripped over the edge of the carpet and plopped down on the couch next to me.

“I just walked into the house, Abs. Nice to see you, by the way.”

“Aunt Bri, have you been online today?”

“They wrote something else about me?” I mumbled.

I’d been right to turn down Hayden’s lukewarm request for us to be a couple. I didn’t want to live my life in a fishbowl.

The press, Hayden’s drama, none of that mattered. Rosie deserved today to be all about her, to see how much she was loved. I wouldn’t let Hayden take that from her.

“It’s not about you. Not really. Here, look.”

Abbi tossed me her phone. She was practically bouncing in her seat when I glanced at her before I turned my attention back to the screen.

It was an article about Hayden’s band. The original was from some German paper I didn’t follow. My eyes widened as I read.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and powered it up. Between my mom and the media constantly calling, I rarely left it on anymore.

Four texts from Hayden. I sucked in a breath and opened the first.

Don’t believe the crap in the German paper. Ets is about to sort it.

Confused, I nibbled at my lip. The article said Murphy Etsam and Hayden were in an altercation after the show last night, but the American version glossed over the reason. Dread crept into my stomach.

I clicked on the next message.

Ets sent the woman in to meet me.
I want to call you so badly, but you’re finalizing the plans for Rosie’s funeral. Just know I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t do that to you. I meant what I said. And I sure as fucking hell didn’t ask for her to be there.

Wow. Hayden sounded . . . concerned. These words were from the man I’d spent time with in Seattle.

The third text listed the Berlin time as 5:00 a.m. I wondered if Hayden slept at all last night.
R u asleep? Did an interview with the reporter before we left Berlin this morning. Please read it. Please call me.

I pressed the phone icon before I could talk myself out of it.

“Briar.”

His voice—just his voice—killed me. “Hi,” I breathed.

“You read the interview?”

“Only the part printed on the gossip site Abbi gave me.”

“I meant what I said there. You’re the woman I care about. The
only
one. I miss being with you. Like we were in Seattle.”

I glared at Abbi, who shrugged before getting up to leave. Lia’s voice answered something Abbi said. I hoped they’d stay in the kitchen.

“Hayden, we don’t live on the same continent. You haven’t stayed in one country for more than three days. And that was only because of your mom.”

“My mum was the reason I came to Seattle. I stayed for you. I never should have left you either. This tour is killing me.” He sounded tortured. Wrong as it was, a little thrill trickled past the dread sitting icy in my stomach. “I didn’t want to say the words on the phone. Not the first time. I told you I wanted to court you. I have it all planned out in my head, and this just isn’t meeting the criteria for the romance you deserve.”

“Like what?” Sure, I knew I sounded breathy, but I didn’t care. I wanted a love affair. The kind Hayden and I started here.

“I want to dip you back over my arm and kiss you better, longer than you’ve ever been kissed. Better than our night at The Edgewater. I want to hold you in my arms as we take a boat down the Seine. I want to dance with you on the cobbles in London. I want to stand on the top of the Statue of Liberty with you, and yell to the whole world that I love you, Briar.”

“Holy shit.”

“You didn’t believe me before? Not quite the response I expected.”

From what little I’d overheard of the conversation with his mother, Hayden had been hurt, many times, by people who were supposed to love and care for him. No wonder he’d run away from his feelings.

“I’m moving in to Rosie’s condo. She left it to me.”

“Again, not really what I wanted to hear.”

The static crackled across the line. Our breaths mingled, synchronizing just as they had when we’d been sated, ready for sleep.

“I don’t know what to say, exactly.”

“Nothing’s been right since I left you.”

I cracked. I couldn’t let him think I was
that
uncaring. “Send me your itinerary for the next few weeks. I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’ll meet me on tour? Crikey, I want to see you.”

“I . . . ”

“I’d like you to meet Jake and Flip.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. No mention of Ets, the only band member he’d talked about when he was here. Much as I wanted to ask, I didn’t want the guilt of being the wedge between them.

“We live nearly a day apart. The logistics of this arrangement are ridiculously not in our favor.”

“I know what I’m asking, Briar. But if you could meet me—there are things I want to say to you.”

“Besides screaming from the top of the Statue of Liberty?”

“Well, yeah. Besides that. But telling you I love you was the most important.”

“When you left, I was crushed.” I paused, my heart fluttering in a hummingbird’s insane rhythm.

“Hurt me, too. But I was focused on doing the right thing then. Turned out to be the exact wrong decision. I should have told you how I felt. I should have trusted you as much as you trusted me.”

“Hayden, this isn’t the time—”

“See. There isn’t a good time. We’re on different continents, trying to have our own lives, but I don’t want separate lives. I want a life with
you
. I haven’t been happy since I left our bed.”

“Hayden?”

“Sweet Briar?”

I blew out a breath. “I fell in love with you.” I hung up before he could respond.

* * *

“
W
hat did he say
?” Lia settled on the couch next to me. She wore a smart black dress, her long auburn hair pulled up into a loose chignon. Lia pulled off understated elegance like she was born to it.

“The funeral starts in an hour.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Abbi said you called him.”

“Ugh. Fine. I did. He wants me to meet him on tour. New York is his first stop in the States, but he…he talked about Paris.” I swallowed, still gripping my phone hard. “The last time I talked to him, before today, he said he’d meet me at the airport, take me to Chinatown. We didn’t do that here.”

“That’s not why you look that pale. Spill, Bri.”

I stared down at the phone, my head buzzing with the words. “He said he loved me.” My voice was soft, as if the very air itself could destroy the memory of his words.

Lia leaned back, a smug smile on her face. “Did he now? To just you. Excellent.”

My eyes shot to hers. Her smile grew and her eyes glowed. She took the phone from me, and even though I grabbed for it out of reflex, I let her set it on the coffee table.

“He can’t mean it,” I said. “Maybe it’s just for press for his tour. Jackaroo, specifically Hayden Crewe, is the hottest thing in music because of our affair.”

Lia’s smile grew broader. “You lived a whirlwind romance. It is a little like a Cinderella story. Who doesn’t love that fairy tale?”

“Me. I like reality—the boringness of two people just rubbing along together, content.”

“Because your relationship with Ken worked out so well. That wasn’t love, Briar. The real deal is bigger than either of you. It’ll give you the highest high, better than you can ever imagine, because of the connection that’s so deep it’s impossible to unlink. You know that. That’s what Dad felt for Mom.”

“And look where that got him,” I huffed.

She tipped my chin so I had to meet her eyes. “It’s what I feel for Asher, and he returns those feelings. Love can work out. You’ve already let him back inside.” She placed her hand just over my heart.

“I want to see him, make sure he means it.”

“No, I know you, Briar. You want him to prove he won’t do anything stupid again. Something that will hurt you.”

I stood and began to pace, thinking about how I’d felt when I’d read Hayden’s note. When I’d been bombarded by the media with questions about our breakup.

“Of course I do. He broke me, Lia.”

“I asked Dad about his relationship with Mom once.”

I stopped midstride, just like she knew I would.

“Right before his last deployment.” Lia smoothed the hem of her dress across her knees. “He told me that he could never regret loving Mom. Not because he got us out of the deal.” A ghost of a smile slid over Lia’s mouth. “That’s what I expected, some platitude about us being awesome. Instead, he told me the eleven years with Mom were the ones where he lived out loud. As big as he could. And that was all we could ever wish for.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, confusion and frustration bubbling through my stomach.

Lia raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time you figured that out.”

* * *

T
he funeral service
ran long because more than fifty people stood up at the podium, reliving their favorite Rosie moments. As I listened to John Henderson speak, the night I’d met Rosie bubbled up in my mind.

I’d come as Ken’s date to the cancer charity function, a cause I planned to write about for next day’s paper. Since Ken was the leading oncologist on the team, his office helped set up the fundraiser for the new cancer facility the hospital wanted so desperately. We were in the Terrace Room at The Edgewater, the doors open to let in the light breeze blowing in off the sound. I’d been standing near our table, talking with a colleague from the much larger Seattle Times newspaper. He’d been there to cover the event, and I’m sure he knew who Rosie was when she walked over.

“Are you here with Dr. Kenneth Brenton?” Rosie had asked.

I’d affirmed, giving my colleague an apologetic what-can-I-do look. He’d shaken his head, chuckling as he wandered off.

“Is Kenneth someone special?” Rosie asked.

I clutched my glass of white wine in both hands. “I’m not sure yet. We’ve been out a few times.” I’d shrugged, noncommittal. I didn’t plan to share my relationship status with a nosy older lady I’d just met.

Rosie had studied my eyes, exposing my secrets. I’d forced my gaze to stay locked on hers and finally she smiled, transforming her face.

“You have spunk. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you love best in the world, dear?”

I’d opened my mouth, snapped it shut.

“Ken told me you helped set up this event. He said you wanted more awareness for the need for early cancer detection.”

“That’s true. It’s important. I like the idea of giving back.” I’d sipped my drink, glancing around the room. “This may not be the most efficient way to do it, but events like this attract reporters. And that helps build awareness. Harder to do when we’re tackling all cancer instead of a specific kind.”

“I like you. My husband would have, too. He’s been gone these ten years. Lung cancer, bless his soul.”

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I stared at the huge bouquet of calla lilies behind her casket. Hayden had sent those. A sweet gesture for a woman he’d met only once.

Rosie wouldn’t have any patience for my fear. She’d wanted everyone to
live
. Maybe that was the point Lia had tried to make earlier.

When my turn came to speak at the podium, I didn’t bother with the notecards I’d spent most of the night scribbling on.

“I only knew Rosie for about three years,” I started. “She was my surrogate mom, confidant, and good friend, all rolled into one . . . without the strain of actual family.” I waited for the titters to die down before I continued. “I learned a lot from Rosie. She taught me that sometimes being strong meant giving in.” I dipped my head toward Lia who did that raised-eyebrow thing. “She taught me to trust my instincts first, last, and always. And, most importantly, she taught me about love. That it doesn’t have to be blood. Love can bind you to someone special you meet toward the end of your life. Rosie was one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I’ll miss her cheating at canasta.”