Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) (9 page)

I smiled, surprised by how much I agreed with her. I handed her back the brush. “Me, too. I’m going to grab a shower.”

“Now?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” I said. “I need to wash off all the sweat.”

“So—what? You kiss me like that then plan to leave me waiting?”

I raised an eyebrow, studying her flushed, strained face.

“Did you have a better idea?”

A smile curled across her luscious lips as she walked over to her bag, pulling out a pale pink bra. The sheer cups were edged with bright satin. She dropped the robe to the floor and picked up the matching panties.

I quit breathing. All that luscious, pale skin was on display. The long sweep of her spine flaring into her hips. The high, firm globes of her arse tapering into her trim thighs.

My eyes lifted to her back and I waited, breath bated deep in my chest, for her to turn around. I wanted her breasts in my hands, my tongue rolling her nipple into a tight bud.

She slid her panties up those white thighs. I groaned as the soft fabric cupped her bum. She put on her bra, hooking it quickly. She turned toward me, her long fingers cupping the outer edge of her bra. My mouth went dry.

“I’ll just finish getting ready. Why don’t you hop in the shower?”

Some sound came out of my mouth, something between a gasp and a groan. Briar smiled, her fingers running toward the top of her breasts, right at the edge of her bra.

B
riar

I
’d never been looked
at the way he was staring at me. He made me feel sexy. Needed. Which made me needy in return. I shook my hair back over my shoulders and he gasped. Stepping nearer, I was close enough to see how dilated his pupils were. But he stepped back, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats.

“What’s wrong?”

He’d pulled back at Dave’s shop, eyes glazing over and body language requesting space. I’d hoped he’d be better away from the crowd, but something in his attitude was still off.

“I’ll grab some clean clothes. Be a second.”

I gripped my fingers in his pullover. “Hayden. Are you angry with me? For taking you to the Market?”

I stumbled back when he swung toward me. His jaw was tight, lips compressed. Sighing, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He dropped his fingers to the upper swell of my chest, trailing them down over the cup of my bra where my fingers had been a moment before. Now that he was touching me, I could feel the need pouring off him, feeding mine.

“No, Briar. I’m not angry with you. I’m frustrated with myself. This thing we’re starting—like you said, it’s deep. I don’t want to hurt you. I . . . ” He blew out a breath. “It’s just more real now that I’m here. The idea that I could end up like her. When I think about the episodes, the anger . . . I could pull someone down into that pit with me. I can’t do that to you. I just can’t.”

I stepped in, ignoring his grunt. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I laid my head on his chest. He pulled me tight enough I struggled for a full breath. This demon he was fighting, his mother’s illness and the old hurts it had caused, was winning.

“I’m happy to go visit your mom and Rosie. You can stay here or head over to the studio. Bill was serious about you using the key he gave you. Go bang out your aggression on the keys.”

A laugh rumbled up his chest before spilling out his mouth.

“Thanks for that, love. There’s a much better way to bang out my aggression, but I really want to woo you.”

“Why?”

“For the first time in just about forever I’ve met someone who sees
me
. Who cares about
me
. And I want to make sure you understand it’s reciprocated.”

“I know you care about me.” I sucked in a breath. “You can care about me more. In bed.”

“My, you’re primed.” He leaned down and kissed my hairline, just above my forehead. “I’m getting you all covered in my sweat.”

“I like your sweat,” I panted.

“And I like you. More than I should. Let me go, Briar.”

I obeyed, wondering if I’d just lost him completely.

Something showed on my face. Probably my fear. Hayden cupped my cheeks in both of his hands, pressed his lips against mine hard enough to clank teeth. His tongue was inside my mouth, ravenous. I gripped his hair near his nape and held on. He pulled away his lips on a groan that sounded almost like a sob. His lips trailed down my neck and I arched into him, my body more than ready to comply.

“Bloody hell, Briar. I can’t stay away from you. And I should. I know I should. We’re meeting at a time that’s all about strong emotions. Those same reasons for getting together now will rip us up when these stolen moments unwind.”

“I don’t want you to stay away,” I whispered. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“I can’t seem to, and that’s the hell of it.” His tongue caressed the skin along my collarbone. “I’m going to hurt you. I realized how much it’s going to hurt me to hurt you at the Market and again while brushing your hair. I like spending time with you, Briar. But I have to leave. Soon.”

I cupped his cheek, waiting until he met my eyes. His swirled with dangerous emotions—too many to count. They mirrored my own. Which was why I’d tried to back out of dinner earlier. Unfortunately, at the Market I’d realized just how deep I was already in this relationship with Hayden.

Time to make a choice—one I hated making for myself. But we were both old enough to know that our emotions were tangling, and that was enough to give us pause.

Hayden and I shared more of ourselves in a short period of time than I’d ever shared with Ken in all my years with him. I wasn’t playing safe; I wasn’t pulling back and hiding behind my normal cloak of numbness. Neither was he. The result was electrifying and terrifying.

He waited, breath choppy.

“No.” My voice was firm. “You’d hurt me more if you pushed me away now.” I couldn’t have spoken a truer statement. “Hayden, I’ve been around the block, I understand this is short-lived. You have a life somewhere else. Mine’s here. But this is the time we have together. Leaving is going to be painful no matter what. Regrets will just make me feel worse.”

He stared into my eyes, his still dark with anger and disappointment. We stayed like that, me in just my lingerie, his arms wrapped tight around me as I curved into his body.

“You are one smart lady. Or maybe I’m too confused from how much I want you to muster a logical response.” He buried his nose in my cleavage.

“Nothing’s stopping you.” He looked up at me, and I met his gaze, holding mine level and sure.

His mouth settled over mine, softer this time, reverent. He backed me across the room, his kisses light but filled with emotion, his hands sliding from my hips to my waist, up my rib cage, to my breasts. His thumbs flicked across my aching nipples, and I arched forward plastering my body to his.

“Oh, please.”

“You want this? Me, inside you?”

“God, yes.”

He pushed me back against the mattress, which caught me behind the knees. I sprawled back, clawing at his shoulders as I fell. He smirked, eyes darkening.

“I’m deciding what to take off first.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Yes, lots of teasing. It’s the anticipation that’ll make this so much better.”

I arched my hips off the bed, my fingers fumbling toward the elastic of his running pants. “Now. I want you now.”

“Bossy.” He sat back on his heels, nostrils flaring at the high-cut silk-and-lace panties playing peekaboo with my sex. “I like it.”

He climbed over me, arms tensed to keep from putting any weight on me. I knew he was going to try to drive me crazy, and I didn’t think I could stand a long buildup. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I pushed off my far shoulder, landing on top of Hayden with a smug smirk.

His astonishment quickly turned darker, more sensual. “That was bloody sexy.”

“You’re sexy.”

His hands palmed my bottom, thumbs smoothing in long strokes over the soft material. I leaned down, my smile pressed to his as we kissed again. And again. And again.

“You pinned me. What next? I’m yours for the taking, love.”

Oh, that accent.

“Clothes. Off.”

“This is your cricket match.”

I leaned back to frown in confusion.

“It means do as you will,” he said with a chuckle. “Condoms are over there.” He waved vaguely. “I should get one.”

He walked across the room and I licked my lips. As soon as he was back, I pushed his pullover and the still-damp T-shirt up over his ribs. I kissed my way up, my tongue learning each of his ribs, the dip between the two sides. I trailed my lips over the thick ridges of muscles that led down to his belly button. He hissed out a curse when my tongue delved into the small indention.

I squealed as I whirled, ending up under him again. “Too slow,” he mumbled against my lips. Pulling my hands up over my head, his mouth sealed over my left nipple through my bra. “Sweet Briar. You feel better than I imagined. Taste sweeter than I hoped.”

“Please.”

“Ah, you like me in charge.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He dipped his sun-kissed head. “Good.” He nipped my shoulder, teeth scraping over the delicate skin there. I moaned, arching into him. We rolled again and he ran his hands down my sides to grip my hips.

“You’re so responsive. That’s bloody hot.”

I wanted to tell him I’d never flamed this fast before. “Less talk,” I panted.

Hayden leaned up, abs flexing—dear heaven—in a drool-worthy crunch to help me pull off his pullover and shirt. I ran my fingers down the inside of his arms and the outside of his ribs. He shivered. My fingers slid in a whisper-soft caress down over his stomach. We both moaned as my fingers slid lower, under the waistband of his sweats.

He fumbled, gripping my fingers as I trailed them lower. I huffed as he slid our hands up our bodies. He pulled his mouth from my neck.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, thrilled, as I kissed him. Long, hard, deep, just like I wanted him inside me. Digging my toes into the back of his sweats, I yanked them down. He pulled back, surprise and pride lighting his eyes.

“Good trick.”

He toed off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, sliding back up my naked limbs. My bra disappeared and I gasped at the sensation of skin touching skin. Hayden was hot. His skin sizzled against mine, and I pressed into him. More. I just needed more.

He went willingly as I rolled, but we’d misjudged the end of the bed. I yelped as we fell. He twisted, taking the brunt of the fall. We landed in a tangle of limbs.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

He pushed my panties down over my hips. He palmed my hipbone, his fingers finding the smooth flesh low between my legs. I arched upward as he slid his fingers lower, delving between my slick lips.

“Bare. Crikey, you’re killing me. I’ve got to see this.”

He pulled back, eyes traversing the length of my flushed body. I writhed as he pressed the pad of his thumb to my clitoris, two fingers sinking in deep, past the knuckle. I bit my lip, twisting into his hand and then away. I needed more of him.

Rotating his fingers, he rubbed against the front wall of my sex. His thumb turned a slow circle and my body bowed. I clawed at his shoulders as the ripples started deep inside, building, my body bucking with the strength of the release.

He ripped open the condom wrapper and slid into me just as the last tremors eased through my body. My muscles tensed immediately, primed and begging for more.

Hayden rose up on his elbows and cupped my cheeks, his fingers buried deep in my hair. “You feel amazing.”

“Mmm.”

“Did I leave you speechless, love?” he asked, leaning forward to press kisses to the corner of my mouth.

“You left me both relaxed and wound tight. You feel right inside of me.”

I gripped his forearms as he pulled out. I lifted my hips up, but I was pinned under him. I waited, breathless, quivering. He slid back into me. Each stroke was strong, sure, and nudged me back toward the pinnacle I’d reached just moments before.

Desire bloomed hotter as he pumped into my body. His eyes narrowed as he leaned down to kiss me. My nipples chafed against his chest hair. I tilted my hips and wrapped my legs high on his back, locking my ankles.

He bit my lip before rearing back to his knees. His hands slid to my hips and he pounded into me again and again, driving me up, up, up. And over.

H
ayden

B
riar’s face
as the orgasm took her—I’d never forget her look of raw pleasure. That, more than the tight clench of her body, pushed me into my own release. I gritted my teeth, but the moan still ripped from my throat as I slammed into her as deep as she could take me.

The release quivered through my muscles in long pulls of pleasure. After I caught my breath, I rolled off her, surprised that my arms had collapsed and my full weight must be crushing her.

Her blue eyes were still dazed.

“Good for you then?” I asked, unable to keep the grin from flitting across my lips.

“Never orgasmed like that. Let alone twice. I figured multiples were like unicorns. A myth we tell women so they’ll keep striving for that moment.”

I kissed her. A soft one full of thanks. Her fingertips caressed my bristly cheeks.

“Maybe it’s you,” she said, her voice soft. “Maybe it’s this way with all women.”

I smoothed her damp hair back from her forehead. “No, it’s us. Together.”

She smiled, her eyes shining through her insecurity. I couldn’t decide what she was worried about. Unless her ex told her any sexual dissatisfaction came from her not being enough instead of his not taking the time, slowing his pleasure, to love her properly. From what she’d told me, he was that kind of man.

“You sure?” she asked.

I didn’t like her tentative. I kissed that spot I’d quickly become addicted to, just beneath her eye. “About this, yes. Now, time for a shower. Gotta clean you up, dirty girl.”

“Someone has ideas. Great ideas.”

I laughed, wrapping my arms around her narrow waist, pulling her tight to me as the stirrings of desire ignited once again within my body. I couldn’t worry about anything but this moment. Even the dread of visiting my mum was dulled because Briar was going with me. She’d hold my hand and hold me up if I needed the help. Where I should feel fear, I only felt a deep, deep peace.

* * *

“
D
on’t
you listen to music when you drive?” I asked.

“All the time. But I’m nervous about you seeing my preprogrammed stations. What if I listen to music you hate? Is that a deal breaker?”

Laughing, I leaned forward and pressed the On button. Rachael Yamagata’s soulful voice filled the small space, offset by a soft piano melody.

“Nice,” I purred, leaning my head back and mentally playing the keys with her.

“She’s no Jackaroo,” Briar said, lips quirking up. Her shoulders loosened.

“Save the flattery, love. After this morning, I’m plotting how to get you back in my bed.” I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, watching that blush sweep up her neck. “Or in the shower as quick as possible.”

“Behave,” she said, but her voice was breathy, making me want to pleasure her again. Instead, I leaned back into the seat and let the music wash over me.

I’d never much preferred being a passenger, but I didn’t mind Briar taking the reins. I shied away from why that was, focusing instead on what I’d say to my mum. Had she talked to my father over the years? Why not contact me later, when I was older, more established? When she couldn’t hurt me, at least not physically.

Dad had been circumspect about Mum’s leaving and, really, about their relationship in general. I could count on one hand the times he’d mentioned her after we’d moved to Melbourne. He’d said that she needed time to get well.

But if he’d paid for her treatment at the center after her arrest, there’d be documents somewhere to prove her story. I would find them.

I squeezed Briar’s fingers as I left her at the door to Rosie’s room. She put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. It was just what I needed—soft and full of caring.

Buoyed, I walked into my mum’s room. She was asleep, so I pulled out some notes on a new song I was working on. Mum stirred after an hour.

“Hayden?” she mumbled.

“Yep.”

“Are you real or a dream?”

“Real.”

She stared at me hard, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I wanted to.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked.

“I was afraid.” Her face crumpled and tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. The oxygen pumped in a harsh, steady rhythm, overriding her muted sobs. “You had every right to be angry with me.”

I swallowed past the emotion building in my chest. “Thank you.”

“I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you but I did. I did.”

I was silent, unsure how to respond.

“I was sure you must hate me after that last time,” she said, a quiver filling her voice. “I wasn’t a very good mother.”

Kelly popped her head in.

“Okay if I take some vitals?” she asked.

It wasn’t, but I didn’t know how to tell her that. So I leaned back against the window ledge while Kelly talked to Mum, who was less coherent.

“Can you get him the box, Kelly? I want him to have it. I saved it for him.”

I followed Kelly to the door. “Why’s she so loopy?”

“We increased her pain meds. Arlene—the night nurse—said Miriam had a rough night.”

“What does the higher dose of pain medication do? Why up them?”

Kelly touched my shoulder, something she did automatically, not out of comfort. “She’s dying, Hayden. We’re trying to keep her comfortable. I’ll get that box. Be right back.”

I grabbed her elbow as she turned away, took a deep breath, and forced myself to ask the real question. “So what’s the timetable?”

Kelly shook her head. “Not long.”

I went back into the room. Mum’s eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. I leaned over her, caught the faint whiff of some scent I didn’t like. “You can’t do this . . . tell me you didn’t contact me again for my sake and leave it at that.”

Nothing. Disappointment slithered through me. I stared at her, willing her for an hour to open those nearly translucent eyelids. Like she had so often in the past, my mum chose to ignore me.

“Sorry it took a while. Emergency with another patient,” Kelly puffed. “Here’s that box.”

It wasn’t big. Which was its own disappointment somehow. Not much bigger than a shoebox. I eyed it, once again willing my mum to wake. She didn’t.

Much as I wanted Briar here to steady me, this was too personal—something my mum’s broken mind wanted me to have. I lifted the lid with an unsteady hand.

Two photo albums. I opened the first and stared at a familiar picture of my mum, her belly large with me. The photo must have been one of my dad’s favorites to have made it into both their collections. The rest of the spread showed me at birth and within the first days of life. My life, each milestone, each year, meticulously catalogued. I blinked back the moisture building in my eyes when I got to a photo from my eleventh birthday. That was the first one I celebrated in Melbourne. I flipped by each of my school pictures, the newspaper articles from my concerts.

I set aside the book and opened the next. My high school self stared back. Flipping the page, I found a few candids of me heading off to college, home for a long weekend my sophomore year with my hair dyed blue and a piercing through my eyebrow.

I rubbed the spot absently, shocked at the memory. Dad had hated the piercing so much I’d taken it out just to get him to stop complaining. God, I’d nearly forgotten.

Ten pages in and the pictures stopped. My life—my mum’s knowledge of it—ended with a write-up in the Sydney paper. We’d just signed our first record deal. Within two years I’d be here, a rocker at the top of the world stage, trying hard to keep his emotions together as he held his mother’s pitiful attempt to stay connected to his life.

I flipped through the rest of the pages in quick succession. Not a note. Nothing to apologize for beating the shit out of me that day or for leaving my dad to raise a child alone. No mention of her bipolar disorder. Not a whiff of concern at the possibility of passing the disease on to me.

I shut the book and leaned my head back against the uncomfortable armchair. Crikey. She’d thrown me with this.

Because within the albums, I sensed her love, her need to connect, just as she’d said yesterday. But she hadn’t done the one thing
I
needed—contact me. Let me know she cared.

She didn’t wake the rest of the time I stayed there.

I stood, stretched my stiff joints, and walked down the hall. Briar was laughing with her friend. My smile was instantaneous and caused me to pull up short of the door.

Briar had managed to burrow deep inside me so quickly. We probably wouldn’t last, because this much emotion would flame out. Wouldn’t it?

Probably. I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t know what to think about any of this. I stepped forward, needing to get out.

“Hey,” Briar said from the chair across the room. My chest compressed with a thick ache at the sight of her. She waved me in. “Rosie, this is Hayden.”

“I saw you perform in Melbourne years ago. That’s when I still traveled, obviously.” Her eyes sparkled, yellow edged into her healthy complexion.

My mum was further along this same path. I swallowed as the realization struck: my mother mightn’t wake back up.

“G’day, Rosie. Hope you liked the show, then. Met your cat, Princess. She’s prickly as.”

I glanced over at Briar, still unprepared for her searching look. I didn’t need that now. The ache in my chest was building into a burn. If I didn’t do something soon, the pain would consume me.

“Mum’s not waking and I need a bite. Can I grab you something?”

“Briar was just coming to find you. It’s my nap time,” Rosie said, her voice full of sardonic humor. “Dying people have similar schedules to toddlers. We don’t always act much better, either.”

Her eyes were full of understanding and sympathy as they met mine. I didn’t want a person I’d never met before to feel sorry for me.

“Right-o. I’ll be out front,” I said to Briar. “Come out when you’re ready.”

Briar nodded, but hurt crept into her big blue eyes. Dammit. I’d already fucked this up.

Briar leaned down to hug her friend, undeterred by the wires and the frailty of Rosie’s body. I shuddered.

I strode through the building, needing away from the stale, antiseptic air. Shoving through the doors, I didn’t bother to stop when I hit the light mist.

My mum could’ve figured out a way to make spending time with me happen. People with bipolar disorder developed and maintained strong, healthy relationships with their kids. One of my friends in high school struggled with the disorder until she was properly diagnosed and treated. I’d looked her up on social media during the interminable wait for those bloody photo albums. Now, Julia was a doctor with a six-year-old son. That’s what medication did—gave Julia a life. My mum could’ve chosen that route, too.

But she hadn’t, so she couldn’t have wanted me. Not if she’d never contacted me. No matter how painstaking her collection of my life’s work—she hadn’t tried once to contact me.

I was a bad mother.

My fingers tangled in my hair. She ruddy well was. Deathbed confessions and changes of heart were too little too late.

Briar’s hand slid up my shoulder to tangle in my hair. I pulled her into my arms, my nose buried in her neck. My shoulders shook.

What. The. Hell?

“They happen,” Briar said, voice low, soothing.

“What happen?”

“Bad days. Especially here. Shows you just how unfair life is.”

“She drops that shit on me yesterday, and she can’t even wake up long enough to explain her reasons. Not that there’s one that’ll make sense.” I stepped back. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her toward her car.

“Maybe it’s just as well, Hayden. You’re really upset.”

“She left me a box. My bloody inheritance to show she’d kept up with my musical career. As if that’d make up for her lack of interest for nearly twenty years. You drive. I’m still trying to remember which side the steering wheel’s on.”

She shook her head as she clambered into her car. I slammed the door shut, catching the faint glint of a telephoto lens. I turned from the paparazzi, refusing to give them more than they’d already managed to take.

Briar waited until I was buckled into my seat before starting the ignition. “What’s your eating pleasure?”

I discarded the idea of telling her about our photo tail. Not much I could do about it.

“You’re the Seattle expert. Surprise me.”

“I know the perfect place.” She pulled out her phone. Her thumbs moved over the screen with surprising speed. A moment later, her phone beeped with the distinct ding of an incoming text. She smiled. “Perfect. The pap won’t be able to follow.”

“You saw him.”

Briar rolled her eyes. “You can call it reporter instinct. Now, let’s see if I can lose him.” She touched the side of her nose, and for some unknown reason, I smiled.

Briar drove through the city, eyes intent on the traffic around her. After many twists, turns, and last-second u-eys, she pulled into the lot behind a rambling wooden warehouse. No signage. She opened her car door, so I did, too. Getting out, my arms prickled with the faint chill from the light breeze. So different from Sydney’s muggy, drugging summer warmth.