Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

I’d be a lying son of a bitch if I said that a couple of tears didn’t sneak out of my eyes on the way to Clara’s.

Wiping at my face when one of them brushed the side of my mouth, I listened to the navigation warn about an upcoming right turn and immediately get cut off when a call came through.

The screen showed “TOBER RHODES CALLING.”

Was he calling to tell me bad news? To tell me to move out? Dread wrapped its fingers around my stomach, but I forced myself to hit the answer button. I’d already learned the hard way what happened when I tried to avoid bad things.

Might as well embrace them and get them over with.

“Hello?” Even I could hear the uneasiness in my soul.

“Where are you?” came the rough voice.

“Hi, Rhodes,” I said quietly, more quietly than I thought I’d ever talked to him before. “I’m driving.”

He didn’t say hi back; what he did say was a curt, “I know you’re driving. Where are you going?”

His Navy Voice was back, and I didn’t know what that meant. “Why?”

“Why?”

I sucked in a breath through my nose. “Yeah. Why are you asking?” I had to just . . . face it. If he wanted to tell me to get my things and leave, even though I didn’t think that was something he’d want to do, might as well find out now.

That made my stomach clench painfully.

He took a breath so loud and haggard, I was surprised it didn’t blow me away even over Bluetooth. “Aurora . . .”

“Rhodes.”

He muttered under his breath, then seemed like he pulled his phone away from his mouth to say something to who I could only imagine was Amos before coming back on the line and repeating the same question. “Where are you going?”

“To Clara’s,” I told him, still speaking quietly. Then I decided to take advantage of the call because why not? “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth, but I love you and Am and didn’t want you to think I was a loser, and I hope you’ll forgive me. I don’t really want to cry while I’m driving, but we can talk some other time. Okay, bye.”

Like the chickenshit I didn’t know I was, I hung up. I wasn’t sure if I expected him to call me back or not, but he didn’t. And I realized when my heart started hurting again that I kind of had hoped he would. I’d fucked up.

I was so stupid.

But I couldn’t bear the thought of hearing him say something hurtful. Maybe it was for the best that we hadn’t spoken until now. The more time he had to cool off, hopefully the less my chances were of getting my feelings hurt more.

That still didn’t make me feel better though. Not really. I’d rather get into an argument than get ignored. I really would. I would have rather heard him tell me that I’d hurt his feelings and say he was disappointed that I’d kept the truth from him than get brushed off.

Parking in Clara’s driveway, I got out with an even heavier heart at the same time the front door opened, and she was there and waving me in.

“Come on,” she invited, her smile gentle and welcoming.

“Are you sure everyone’s fine with this?” I asked, going up the steps.

Her smile stayed the exact same. “Yes. Come in.”

I hugged her and Jackie, who I noticed was standing behind her, peeking over her shoulder with an anxious look on her face. “Hi, Jackie.”

“Hi, Ora.”

I stopped and cursed. “I forgot my bag. Let me go grab it real quick.”

“Dinner’s ready. Come eat and then get it.”

I nodded and followed them in, giving Mr. Nez a hug too. He was already at the kitchen table, gesturing toward the seat beside him. Clara was right; dinner was done—apparently they adhered to Taco Tuesday, and I was all about that. We ate, and Mr. Nez asked questions about the store, and then they told me how Christmas had gone the day before. They hadn’t left the house, but one of Clara’s brothers had come over, so they hadn’t been alone.

I was just finishing off my second taco, which if it had been any other day, it more than likely would have been my fourth, when a knock on the front door had Jackie getting up and disappearing down the hallway.

“Did you hear that she and Amos are going to do the talent show at school?” Mr. Nez asked.

I set the last bit of my taco down on the plate. “Am told me. They’re going to do great.”

“She won’t tell us what they’re singing or anything.”

I didn’t want to ruin the surprise and lifted a shoulder. “I’m sworn to secrecy, but we should all get there early.”

“I can’t believe Amos would agree to it,” Mr. Nez commented between bites. “He’s always struck me as such a shy young man.”

“He is, but he’s tough, and my friend has been giving him advice.” I hoped he forgave me.

“The one that Jackie hasn’t stopped talking about? Lady . . . what’s her name? Lady Yoko? Yuko?”

I laughed. “Yuki. Lady Yuki, and yeah, that’s—”

A shout came from the front door. “Aurora! It’s for you!”

For me?

Clara shrugged as I got up. Heading toward the front door, Jackie purposely avoided my eyes as she went around me, heading back into the kitchen.

I knew who it was. It wasn’t like there was a long list of people who would come looking for me.

But there wasn’t anyone on the deck when I got to the door. What there was were two people by my car. I’d gotten into the habit of never locking my car anymore unless I was at the store. The trunk was open, and I couldn’t see their heads, but I could see the bodies.

“What are you doing?” I hollered, going down the steps, my stomach twisting with all the bad reasons why they’d be digging around in there. And possibly a little bit in surprise as well.

It was Rhodes that moved first, hands going straight to his hips as he looked at me. All broad shoulders and full chest. Big and imposing, looking like more of a superhero than a normal man. He was still in his work uniform. His winter work jacket was open, his beanie was pulled down on his head, and he was scowling. “Getting your things,” he answered.

I stopped walking.

Amos moved around to stand beside his dad. He was in a baggy hoodie, and he crossed his arms over his chest in the exact same way the man beside him did. “You gotta come back.”

“Come back?” I echoed like I’d never heard those words before.

“Home,” they said at the same time.

That one word felt like a Superman punch to my very soul, and it must have been apparent to them too, because Rhodes’s expression went into his harsh one, his ultra-serious face. “Home.” He paused. “With us.”

With them.

That wide chest that I’d found comfort in time and time again rose with a breath, his shoulders lowering at the same time, and he nodded—to himself, to me, I didn’t know to who—watching me with those incredible gray eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?”

What? “Going? I’m here . . . ?”

It was like he didn’t hear my answer because his scowl went nowhere and the lines on his forehead deepened as he said slowly, sounding resolute, “You’re not leaving.”

They thought I was leaving?

My poor brain couldn’t understand because it repeated their words, because they didn’t make sense. None of it—none of this, even them being here—made any sense.

“You had your bag,” Amos tag-teamed into the conversation, glancing up at his dad for a second before focusing back on me. He seemed to be struggling with something because he took a deep breath and then said, “We . . . we thought you lied. We were just a little bit mad, Ora. We don’t want you to go.”

They really thought I was leaving them? Forever? I’d only grabbed my little duffel.

And it was then that I noticed what Rhodes had tucked under his arm. Something bright orange.

My jacket.

He had my jacket with him.

Suddenly my legs went weak, and the only thing my brain could process was that I needed to sit down, and I needed to sit down right then. That’s what I did. I plopped down on the ground and just looked at them, the snow instantly wetting my butt.

Rhodes’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t run away when we get into an argument.”

“Run away?” I choked out in surprise, and honestly, more than likely astonishment.

“I should’ve talked to you last night, but . . .” Rhodes’s jaw worked, and I could see his throat bobbing from where he stood, legs planted wide. “I’ll work on that from now on. I’ll talk to you even if I’m mad. But you don’t get to leave. You don’t get to walk away.”

“I’m not leaving,” I told them in a whisper, stunned.

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, and I swore my whole life shifted.

Then I remembered what the hell had gotten us to this point and focused. “I texted you and you didn’t text me back,” I accused.

His expression went funny. “I was mad. Next time, I’ll text you back regardless.”

Next time.

He’d just said next time.

They were here. For me.

I’d been gone an hour . . . and they were here. Pissed off and hurt. I felt my lower lip start trembling at the same time my nasal cavity started to tingle. And all I could do was look at them. My words were lost, buried beneath the tidal wave of love filling my heart in that moment.

Maybe it was my lack of words that had Rhodes taking a step forward, eyebrows still knitted together, his bossy voice the roughest I’d ever heard it. “Aurora—”

“I’m sorry, Ora,” Amos stuttered, cutting his dad off. “I was mad that you’ve been helping me with my shitty songs—”

“Your songs aren’t shitty,” I managed to say weakly, mostly because all of my energy was shifted toward not crying.

He shot me a pained look. “You’ve written songs that are on TV! That asshole won awards for your music! I felt stupid. You said stuff, and I didn’t take it seriously.” He lifted his arms and let them drop. “I know you wouldn’t do something on purpose to hurt anybody’s feelings.”

I nodded at him, trying to gather my words again, but my favorite quiet teenager kept on going.

“I’m sorry I got so mad,” he said solemnly. “I just . . . you know . . . I’m sorry.” He sighed. “We don’t want you to leave. We want you to stay, don’t we, Dad? With us?”

So this was what it was like to have your heart broken for good reasons.

It was only from the sincerity in his eyes and the love I had in my heart for him that I was able to say, “I know you’re sorry, Amos, and thank you for apologizing.” I swallowed. “But I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you both. I didn’t want you to feel weird around me. I wanted you to be my friend for me. I didn’t want either of you to be disappointed. I can’t write anymore,” I admitted. “I haven’t been able to in a really long time, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I don’t mind it, actually, and I guess I was scared that you’d find out and only want me around for that . . . and I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I can only help now, for the most part. Nothing comes to me randomly on its own like before. It ran out after I helped Yuki.

“All I have left are a few notebooks, but Kaden took all the best stuff.” I swallowed. “That’s the only reason why he and his family kept me around for so long. Because I could help them, and I couldn’t bear to go through that again.” I shook my head. “All those songs . . . they were about my mom. You’d be surprised how easily you can turn just about anything into a love song. I wrote them when I missed her the most. When my heart felt like it couldn’t keep beating much longer. The best things I ever wrote were while I was hurting, and decent stuff came while I was happy, but it’s all gone now. All of it. I don’t know if it’s ever going to come back. Like I said, I’m fine with it, but I don’t want anyone else to be let down. Especially not you two.”

Their eyes were wide.

“And I wasn’t leaving-leaving. I was only planning on spending the night. All my stuff is still over there, silly,” I admitted, looking at Rhodes too, who was staring over like I’d magically disappear. “I thought I screwed up and you both weren’t going to want me around anymore, or at least not for a while. I was sad, but I know it was my fault, that’s all.”

I pressed my lips together, feeling the tears pool in my eyes, and lifted a shoulder. “I keep losing the people I consider my family, and I don’t want to lose you guys too. I’m sorry.”

Rhodes dropped his hands about halfway through me talking. Just as I was finishing, those big, booted feet led him over, and from one blink of an eye to another, he was crouching in front of me, his face right there, those intense eyes boring a hole straight into me. Two hands I didn’t see coming were on my cheeks before I could react, keeping me there as he said in a voice rougher than I’d ever heard, “You’re mine. Just as much as Am is. Just as much as anybody will ever be.”

A tear slid down my cheek, and he wiped it off, his eyebrows dropping low.

“You are a part of us,” he said gruffly. “I told you before, didn’t I?” One of the hands on my cheeks moved, and he took my earlobe between his fingers. “I don’t know how anybody would let you walk away, and it isn’t going to be me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Are we clear?”

I leaned forward and let my forehead drop to his shoulder, the weight of his words settling around me. The hand he had on my ear fell away and dropped to my back. He stroked it.

His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “I’m not some rich guy, Buddy. I’m never going to be . . . I can’t imagine what you were used to—no, don’t start shaking your head. I know now that I had time to think about it that that doesn’t matter to you . . . but I’ve got a lot more I can give you than that moron ever did. I know it. You do too. No, don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry.”

“You’re using your bossy voice again,” I said into his shirt as more tears slid out of my eyes, and I swore some went down my throat, and it was okay because those arms of Rhodes’s closed around my body and pulled me into his chest. Into him.

His voice dropped. “I’m sorry I was jealous. I don’t give a shit about your money or your notebooks or if you never write a single word down again.” Rhodes’s arms tightened around me, and I was pretty sure all of the muscles in his upper body did too as his voice got even more quiet. The soft puff of his breathing tickled my ear as he whispered, “We love you—I love you—because you’re mine. Because being around you is like being around the sun. Because seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing you sad makes me want to do anything I have to to get that look off your face.

“I want you to come home. I don’t want you thinking these things that aren’t true at all, about us not wanting you around or wanting you to be with us for the wrong reasons. You matter, angel, and I want you here with us. You decided, remember? You don’t get to change your mind anymore. I’m not your ex, and you don’t get to leave. We go through things together, we don’t give up on one another, and not over something like this. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded against him, swallowing back my tears before sliding my arms around his neck. He kissed my forehead and cheek, the stubble on his chin rubbing my face in a way I loved.

“Are we back on the same page?”

I sniffled and nodded again.

“Did you finish dinner? Can you come home?” he asked, his palm moving up and down my spine.

Home. He kept saying it, and my soul gobbled it up. I pulled back a little and nodded up at him. “I can come. Let me just—”

I turned around to see Clara and Jackie at the door, looking at us. Clara held my purse out with a sweet smile on her face.

Rhodes helped me up, his hand touching my lower back briefly before I made my way toward the front door, where Jackie handed me my jacket and Clara gave me my purse and keys. Her eyes were shiny, and I felt so bad.

But she started to shake her head the second I opened my mouth. “I’ve had something special like this before. Go home. Trust me. We’ll have a sleepover another day. That out there matters more. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hugged her tight, having a small figment of an idea of how she had to feel saying those words. Of losing someone you loved very, very much. But she was right.

I should go home.

Smiling at Jackie, I backed up and turned around to find Rhodes standing in the same spot. I didn’t imagine the faint, pained smile that took over his mouth as he looked at me.

The second I was close, his hand slid over my hair. Just as smoothly, it moved over my face, swiping under my eye as he frowned. “I don’t like to see you cry.” The pad of his thumb moved again, over my eyebrow before sliding back over my head once more and curving down my back. “I would ride with you, but Am—”

“Only has his permit, I know.”

That finger of his swept over my eyebrow again. “I’ll follow you home,” he told me in a grave voice.

Home. There was that word again.

I shivered, and he held out my brand-new jacket and let me slide one arm and then the other through the sleeves before he zipped it up for me. I smiled at him when he finished. He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. Pulling back, he met my eyes again and then did it again, pressing his lips just a little heavier against mine. Then he stepped away, his face about as open and unguarded as I’d ever seen it.

Amos was waiting next to my car when we got over, and I hesitated a second before taking my keys out of my pocket and holding them up. “Do you want to drive?”

“For real?”

“As long as you promise not to run through any stop signs.”

His smile was small, but he took the keys, and we got inside. Neither one of us said much as he pulled out of the driveway and his dad pulled over to let us go around and go first. It wasn’t until we were on the highway that he said, “Dad loves you.”

I unclenched my fingers from around my purse and looked at him. Rhodes had said it so fast, I hadn’t absorbed the fact he had said exactly that. “You think so?” I asked anyway.

“Know so.”

I saw him let go of the wheel with one hand. “Two hands, Am.”

He put it back. “He’s not good with words. You know? His mom used to hit him and do other stuff, say mean stuff, and I’ve never even seen Grandpa Randall hug him. I know he loves me . . . he just . . . doesn’t say it a lot. Like, ever. Not like my dad Billy. But Dad Billy told me a long time ago that, even if he doesn’t say it a lot, he shows it doing other stuff.” Amos glanced at me. “So you know. It’s like he’s learning now. How to say it.”

“I understand,” I told him seriously.

Amos glanced at me again before staring forward, hard. “I want you to know, so you don’t think he doesn’t.”

He was trying to console me, or prepare me, or even tie me to his dad even tighter. Maybe all three. And I couldn’t say I didn’t love it because I did.

“I get it,” I said. “And I won’t forget, I promise. I don’t think I need to hear it all the time anyway. You can show people they matter better by what you do than by what you say, I think at least.”

The teenager nodded but kept his attention forward. Things still felt just a little off, like we were both unsure, like this frustration was still so new, we wanted to get over it but neither one of us knew how to kick it off.

But it was him that brought it up. “I don’t care you can’t write anymore, you know.” He was totally serious. “But . . . you’ll still help me with my songs?”

Pressure built up in my chest. “I kind of have to,” I told him. “We’ve done this much. I might as well stick around and see what you can do with more time.”

His smile was faint, and he glanced at me again. “I was thinking about the talent show again, and I was thinking about doing another song instead.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and smiled. “Okay, tell me more.”

Amos parked my car in front of the house, not by the garage apartment, I noted but kept my mouth shut. All I wanted was to savor this. Whatever this was. Being accepted into their home and lives even more so?

They wanted me back.

They wanted me close.

And for me, that was more than something. It was everything.

We got out, and I caught Rhodes’s face as he waited by the hood of his truck, watching me closely. Part of me still couldn’t believe they’d come to get me so soon. No one had ever done that before. Not my ex when he’d hurt my feelings beyond belief and I’d gone to stay with Yuki, and not after I left the house when he’d officially broken things off. He’d never even texted to check up on me and make sure I was fine and not in a ditch somewhere.

Just as I started to get mad at myself for everything that had led up to my relationship with him and how long I’d let it go on, I remembered that if it hadn’t been for him and what he’d done, I might have never come back here.

Because as much heartache and tears as I’d wasted in my previous life, the happiness I’d found here balanced it. And maybe with time, it would more than make up for it. Maybe one day it would overshadow that period completely.

I could only hope.

“You coming?” Amos asked as he rounded the hood of the SUV.

I nodded at him and smiled.

But still, he hesitated, a frown forming over his lean features. “I really am sorry, Ora,” he told me again.

“I’m sorry too. I’m disappointed in myself for believing that the music thing would be a deal breaker. Give me a hug and we’ll call it even.”

He seemed to freeze for a second before rolling his eyes and coming over. Amos wrapped a loose arm around my back, which was pretty much the equivalent of the warmest hug from anyone else in the world, and patted my spine twice—letting me hug him back—before he pulled away. He gave me a tiny mouth twist that was also the equivalent of a great, beaming smile from anyone else before he shook his head, looked away, and went up the steps to the deck.

Rhodes was still in place, looking, waiting as his son disappeared in the house, closing the door behind him. Leaving us alone. “All right. Come here,” Rhodes said in that low, quiet voice, lifting his hand.

I took it. I slipped my fingers over his callused palm and watched as his long ones curled around my own, tugging me toward him. Those purple-gray eyes were steady. “Now tell me one more time. Why didn’t you say anything about who your ex was before?” he asked so tenderly I would’ve told him anything.

I answered, aiming for tender too. “There are a few reasons. A) I don’t like talking about him. Who wants to tell someone they like all about their ex? Nobody. B) I told you, it embarrassed me. I didn’t want you to think there was something wrong with me and that’s why we split up—”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with you. Are you kidding me? He’s an idiot.”

I had to fight a grin. “And for so long people just pretended like they wanted to get to know me because they thought I worked for him. I mean, I didn’t take you to be a fan of his, but I just got used to not talking about him, Rhodes. It’s a habit. There were very, very few people I could ever talk about him to. And I didn’t want to bring him up. I was trying to move on.”

“You did move on.”

My heart jumped, and I agreed. “I did move on. You’re right.”

He took a step closer, his body right there. “I want to understand, Buddy, so I know his level of stupidity.”

That made me grin.

“You broke up because he had to pretend you weren’t together? And that’s why you didn’t have kids?”

“Right. Only band members, people on tour, and close friends and family knew. Everyone had to sign a nondisclosure agreement. We pretended like I was his assistant to explain why I was always around. At first it was fine, but eventually . . . it really sucked. They were so paranoid about kids, his mom used to count my birth control pills. I would hear her asking him about fucking condoms all the time. It was so hurtful now that I think about it.And I don’t want to talk about him, Rhodes, because he’s the past and not my future in any way anymore, but I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” I wouldn’t mind knowing everything about him someday.

“There’s a lot of singers who get married and are still successful, aren’t there?”

I nodded. “Yeah, there are. But I told you, he’s a momma’s boy and she insisted things would never be the same. He valued his relationship with his mom more than his relationship with me, and that was fine. Not really, but I tried to be fine with it. With being the lie. Being a secret. With living a life that made me feel way too often that I wasn’t good enough, because maybe if I had been, it would have been fine for everyone to know. All I wanted was to be important to someone again, I guess. So I put up with it.

“Then at one point, she talked him into doing ‘publicity’ and being seen going out with this other country singer, and I told him if he did, he could go fuck himself. He said he had to, that he was doing it for us because there were rumors going around that he might not like women—like there’s something wrong with that—because he didn’t have a girlfriend and was never seen with anybody. And I left. I was gone a month. I stayed with Yuki. He did it. That’s when I told you that we’d split up and he’d kissed someone else. And eventually, then he came looking and begged me to get back together.

“Things were never the same after that. About a year later, he and his mom decided they were going to try and ‘do something else’ with his music, so they hired some producer instead of going through me . . . and that was the official beginning of the end. I think about it now, and I guess they figured out I was writing less and less. I bet they, or at least his mom, were trying to phase me out. A year after that, it was over. He had left for some ‘business meetings’—which I later found out had really been him staying at his mom’s—came home and said things weren’t working anymore, reminded me that the house was under his name since his mom wouldn’t let me be on the deed because ‘someone might find out,’ and he walked out. The next day, she disconnected my cell. It’s kind of messed up, but I think that bothered me more than splitting up did.”

Rhodes just blinked at me. One long, slow blink, and all he was able to say was “Wow.”

I nodded at him.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to wake up one day and think, that’s the worst mistake of my life,” he said in surprise.

“For a long time, I hoped and prayed that exact thing would happen, but I told you, I just don’t care anymore.” I squeezed his hand. “When his mom showed up, that’s what I told her too. So you know, he has tried emailing me. Months ago. I never replied to him.”

The surprised expression on his features disappeared, and his serious face was back on as he dipped his chin once. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Also, so you know, I’ve talked about it with Yuki and my aunt, and we all agree he’s only trying to get back in contact because the two albums he did without me did so bad.”

Rhodes’s eyes roamed my face, and he softly said, “That’s not the only reason, sweetheart, believe me.”

I shrugged. “But it’s not like I can write anymore anyway. Or that even if I did, I would ever go back to that bullshit.”

“You know that doesn’t factor at all between us, yeah? You know I don’t care even a little bit about that, don’t you?”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

His gaze caught mine and held it, the lines on his forehead there and fierce. “I almost feel bad for the idiot.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Rhodes’s mouth and words softened. “I said almost.” His hand squeezed mine. “He really gave you all that money?”

“He had to or I would’ve gone after him in court, and then everything would’ve blown up in his face,” I explained. “I’m not dumb. After his little fake relationship, I thought of what my mom would say, and she would’ve told me to take care of myself first. So I kept proof, pictures, and screenshots that would have been more than enough to screw him over in court. I figured I deserved it. I’d worked for it. It’s mine.”

I knew I didn’t imagine the pleased and proud glint in his eyes. “Good.”

“It won’t bother you then?” I asked after a moment.

“What?”

“The money.”

He looked right into my eyes as he said, “Is it going to bother me that you’re rich? No. I always wondered what it would be like to have a sugar mama.”

I grinned and knew I had one more thing to say to him before I hoped we never talked about Kaden again. “This is the happiest I’ve been since I was a kid, Tobers. I want you to know that. This is where I want to be, okay?”

He nodded solemnly.

“I love you, and I love Am. I just . . . want to be here. With you two.”

Rhodes’s hand went to my face, his thumb under my jaw. “And that’s where you’re going to be,” he said. “Never in a million years did I ever think somebody—somebody other than Am—could make me feel the way you do. Like I’d do anything, anything, for them. I can’t even look at you when I’m mad because I can’t stay that way.” He lowered his face, so his lips hovered inches from mine. “I’ve only had a few things in my life that were really mine, and I’m not the type of man to give things away or throw them away. And I mean it, Aurora, and it’s got nothing to do with your notebooks or your face or anything other than that heart you’ve got in your chest. Are we clear?”

We were clear. We were clear all right, I told him, hugging him close.

We’d never been clearer.