Chapter Six: Dreams

Chapter Six

Jonas

DREAMS

Performed by The Cranberries

Jonas's heart continued to feel shredded as he led Paisley into his apartment. But as he turned from the door to take Paisley in, he couldn't keep the hope from slowly curling through him. There was an unshakeable truth she'd sung about in her lyrics. They fit. They blended together. The jagged pieces of their souls had collided, finding a home. It was as if they'd been two lost scraps drifting in the breeze until the wind had blown them together.

She watched him as he took a step toward her. A tendril of her hair had escaped her clip and fallen in front of her eyes, hiding some of the emotions swimming there. She was completely still, shoulders back, gaze heated, but he also knew she was nervous because her index finger had landed on her birthmark.

"Paisley." Her name came out as an agonized groan, unsure of what was the right thing to do. Push her away or pull her close.

And then, he didn't have a choice because her body collided with his. Her arms went around his neck, and she stood on her tiptoes to join their mouths together just like she had on the sidewalk. Heat traveled through him, curls of desire leaving a heady trail as it worked its way through every vein and nerve ending until his body was standing at attention, ready to surrender after the frenzied battle with passion and restraint he'd been waging for days.

He put his arms around her waist, lifted her with ease, and set her on the counter in the bite-sized kitchen. Standing between her legs, he trailed his fingers and mouth down her face, her neck, and her chest. He swooped aside the tank top she wore that barely hid the pink Sweet Memory daisy tattooed there and lavished a taut nipple with his tongue. Paisley moaned, arching into him, hands mussing with his hair before she reached for his T-shirt and tugged.

He stepped back, lifting his shirt from the back, pulling it off, and tossing it aside. Then, he lifted her tank and did the same, unhooking her bra before sliding their bodies back together and relishing in the perfect warmth of their skin gliding together.

Their mouths fused hungrily, tongues seeking their inner recesses while fingers explored. The air grew heavier, thicker, fuller. She moaned and the sound had him straining against his jeans, the pressure almost unbearable.

"Take me to your bed, Jonas," Paisley demanded, her voice deeper than he'd ever heard it before. More like her sister's than her own soft one.

He rested his forehead on her chest, eyes closed, listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

"No," he said quietly.

She drew his chin up, searching his face with eyes that ached. "Why?"

He couldn't voice all his reasons for stopping them. Fear of losing her. Fear of doing something she'd hate him for. Fear that her friends and sister would hate him even more. Fear that was ridiculous. He didn't know one heterosexual man his age who would have said no to Paisley's demand. They would have simply fucked her senseless. And maybe that was yet another of the many reasons he wouldn't. He refused to be just some damn guy who screwed her until she screamed.

Not that he was sure he could even make her scream. He wasn't sure he could even last long enough to give her the climax she deserved. But that wasn't the point, and he couldn't voice any of those fears, so he said the one thing that was closest to the surface. "I'm not going to make love to you just so you can spite Landry."

He regretted it as soon as he said it.

She inhaled sharply, pain hitting her eyes, and then she was pushing him away. She jumped off the counter, retrieved her clothes, and reassembled them on her body all while he watched.

When she lifted her beautiful eyes to his face, they were no longer soft. They were hard and angry, but she was still painfully quiet when she finally spoke.

"You really think I'd do that to either of us?" she demanded, hands on her hips, looking very much like some fiery sprite. "Bring her anger into this with us?"

He ran a hand through his hair, wondering how he was going to get out of this without pissing her off or leaving more wounds on her heart.

"I think, right now, you want to prove she's wrong."

Her eyes closed and opened almost as if the words had been a slap to her face. "She is. But that isn't why I want this. I want this because I never feel like I'm truly home until you're touching me. I want to know what it feels like when you're fully inside me and our bodies become one. I want to find the end of the song we've written together. There's no reason to keep stopping us."

He swallowed hard, her words echoing what he'd been thinking moments before and settling into his heart like a Band-Aid over cracks that always seemed to bleed. But he reminded himself of the harshest truth. The number one reason he refused her. He simply wasn't sure he was the man she deserved. Not yet. Maybe never. Right now, he was still a broken kid who tended to ruin everything he touched with roiling anger.

He had so much work to do before he became…something worthy. He wasn't sure he'd ever get there, but he wanted to try because Paisley Kim…she was his whole world. A shiny star in a sea of dark. She brought so much damn beauty into his life that it physically hurt, and he wanted to make sure he could give her the same thing back.

Paisley closed the distance between them, drawing his hand into hers, aligning their palms.

"Two years, Jonas. I've missed you…wanted this…for two years. And now that we're here, this close, I don't want her to be the reason we aren't together." Paisley shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

Jonas swallowed. "We barely knew each other then, sweetheart. And now…now I've got a lot of things to work on, and I think you know that as much as Landry does."

"We belong together. We're two pieces of a whole. You need me to ground you, and I need you to lift me up," Paisley said quietly, eyes begging him to admit the truth. "She shouldn't be able to take that from us."

He nodded. Unable to see the pain in her eyes without touching her, he pulled her close and held on tight. "She won't. But you have to remember, she loves you too. She loved you first, and no matter what I said back there, she does want what's best for you."

"Only if it's what's best for her as well," Paisley said, and it sounded sad and tired, as if she couldn't fight the world one more second.

"I don't think you really believe that."

They were silent for a long moment, and Jonas tugged her toward the couch. When he got there, he pulled her onto his lap, and she rested her head on his chest. They sat that way for a long time, just listening to each other's heartbeats as the sun slanted across the sky and the room grew dim.

After what felt like days, she finally broke the quiet, asking, "Do you remember the very first argument we had about ABBA?"

He laughed softly. "I still think they're shit, but if Brady's daughter heard me say that, she'd skewer me alive."

"Normally, when someone challenges me, I can't breathe. I can't talk. I freeze. It's like I'm a deer caught in the headlights. But with you…all the thoughts inside of me pour out easily. Freely. That first time we argued, you just stared at me as if my words were awe-inspiring, revolutionary. It was like you could actually see me. The real me. The one who's afraid to be onstage and has anxiety attacks, and sometimes can't even speak when someone asks her a question."

Jonas hated her anxiety almost as much as he hated the way she doubted her opinions were valid. She had so much to say, so much talent to share, and yet she'd always hidden it behind Landry because she'd been afraid to step out of the shadows. She deserved more than the sliver of light the band shined her way. Landry was pissed that Paisley was starting to see that. It challenged the status quo. And when that happened, there were always arguments. Adjustments. He had to believe they'd get through it though, because they loved each other.

Pounding on the door caused Jonas's eyes to fly in that direction, cutting him off from saying anything more. He dragged himself up, threw on his T-shirt, and opened it.

Trevor stood there, frowning.

"Hey," Jonas said, his brow furrowing as concern flew through him.

"Dylan went back with Landry, so I grabbed a car to take you to the farmhouse for the bonfire," Trevor said.

Jonas looked back at Paisley waiting on the couch. "We gotta go, Paise."

She flicked her eyes to the darkened windows and jumped up. "Crud. How late is it?"

"You still have time," Trevor answered.

"But Landry needed help setting up," she said, regret filling her tone because even still angry and upset with her sister, she hated letting Landry down.

Jonas followed Paisley as she all but ran down the steps after Trevor. Once they were loaded into the SUV and headed out of town, Paisley ran a hand through her long hair, as if trying to straighten it, before pushing into her birthmark with her fingertip. He could almost feel the nervousness crawling through her veins as if it was its own entity. This was more than just concern about Landry. She was worried because she was supposed to talk with Ronan again tonight, and she hadn't decided whether to tell him about her anxiety and stage fright or not.

Paisley's phone started to blow up just as Trevor's did the same thing in the front. Ping after ping.

"What is it?" Jonas asked.

"Oh my God," Paisley said, color draining from her face as she flicked through the messages.

He pulled her close, pulse quickening. "What's wrong?"

"Adria's sister was kidnapped!"

Jonas's eyes met Trevor's in the rearview mirror, dread curling through him.

"Her dad received a ransom note, and the detail has taken Adria to some undisclosed location because he's worried that whoever did this will come for her too."

Goosebumps littered his skin as Paisley turned to him with panic written on her face and her hands trembling.

"Leya's gone to D.C. early for the convention, and Fiadh has something to tell us about Nick's label." Her eyes filled with tears. "What on earth happened after we left this afternoon?"

Jonas's stomach spasmed. In a ridiculous series of blows the band was teetering and Paisley right along with it. He struggled to quell his nerves, to find a sense of calm so he could be the stable ground beneath her feet. He tugged her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

When they pulled up in front of the farmhouse, there was a van there. Ronan had brought in a film crew for the bonfire, and they were unloading equipment in the near darkness with only the porchlight illuminating the drive. He lifted his chin in their direction as Paisley and Jonas slid out of the back of the SUV.

Ronan sauntered over to them with an unnecessary beanie covering his hair. Jonas's stomach tightened, hating his arrogant assuredness. Hating that this man would have no qualms asking Paisley questions that would upset her even more―all for the sake of his damn film.

"Hey, no one answered when I knocked. Wasn't sure what was up. I kind of expected everyone to be here primping," Ronan said, gray eyes twinkling and lips twitching as if he'd said something hilarious.

"Only Landry and Nikki are here at the moment," Paisley said, finger pushing into her star. "There's a lot going on."

Ronan frowned, waiting for her to explain, but she didn't. She turned and ran for the front door instead.

"We'll just head over to the pond and get things set up," Ronan called after her, his brows bent in confusion.

Jonas jogged after Paisley, and if he hadn't been right behind her, he wouldn't have seen her stiffen or seen the shiver that went through her.

"What?" he asked, and when she didn't move, when she continued to stare at the door as if it was a ghost, he moved around to see what had caused her to go numb.

There was a picture taped well below the handle, as if someone had been ducking out of the camera's view while sticking it there. It was of Jonas and Paisley from that afternoon as they'd left the studio and locked lips in the middle of the street. The image had words scrawled on top of it. Words that were running in deep red and turned Jonas's stomach.

You'll die before I let you be happy.

The red dripped into the two deep grooves carved into Jonas's and Paisley's faces.

Emotions swam through him so fast it was hard to capture them. Fear. Panic. Anger. Disgust. And then back to fear. Regardless of everything else going on with the band tonight, this…this seemed to be about them.