He holds up a hand to silence me. “Please, let me finish. You need to hear this.”
Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I nod. Caspian isn’t the type to open up easily, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious as hell to hear what he has to say.
“After my mom left and my dad died, I moved to the States to live with my aunt.” Caspian rubs idly along his bottom lip with his thumb, seemingly deep in thought over what he’s about to tell me. “She wasn’t exactly parental material, but she was the only living family they could find. She had a drug problem.” He laughs, a dry, humorless sound. “But even worse, she had a man problem. The revolving door of men never stopped.
“Some of them were mean—some hit her, hit me, some just yelled…a lot—but some weren’t so bad. They never lasted, though. My aunt would wring ’em dry and get rid of them. By the time I was old enough to move out of there, the damage was done. I had zero desire to get close to anybody. What good would it do anyway?”
He finally looks at me, emotion twisting up his face. “The two people who were never supposed to leave, did, and the one who was supposed to protect me and take care of me after they left, failed me. I couldn’t hold a friendship to save my life, not that I even wanted to, because my anger would always get the best of me. Everybody left.”
My chest aches hearing those words come out of his mouth. Hearing the truth behind them. Caspian was failed. Everybody who should’ve mattered, and who should’ve been there, failed him.
“The guys in the band were the first and the closest I ever felt to a family, but even with them, I’ve always kept at an arm’s length. Atticus, I’ve let in slightly more, but still, never all the way.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, moving a mile a minute. “Why are you telling me this?”
I can feel his anguish, can see how hard this is for him. Part of me wants to tell him we don’t have to keep going, with whatever it is he wants to say, but the other—selfish—part of me desperately needs to know.
“Because, Rowan, I don’t want to do that with you. I want to be better and try harder because you deserve someone who does.”
His admission tightens my chest, making it hard to breathe. I don’t even know what to say. Hell, I don’t want to say the wrong thing and shatter this bubble we’re in. Pressure pricks the backs of my eyes, and I chew down on the inside of my cheek, afraid if I don’t, something ridiculous like a sob is going to come out.
Caspian drags his fingers through his hair, and I watch him inhale and exhale heavily before continuing. He reaches over, grabbing my hand, the touch calming me more than he probably realizes. “I can’t promise everything will be fucking roses and butterflies from here on out, but if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to at least try, because you’re the first person to ever make me feel not so alone, to make me feel safe opening up to, and I can’t pretend that doesn’t mean something. It does.”
Throat dry, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, I attempt to lick my lips to moisturize them. “W-what are you saying?”
“I know you bought tickets to all the shows, and I’m not sure if you still planned to go to all of them now that we’ve talked. I’d understand if you didn’t want to, but I’d love it if you came on tourwith me.” He emphasizes the last two words. “As in, cancelling your flights and flying with me and the band, sitting backstage during the shows, really being there with me. Not in the crowd.”
Holy shit…“You really want that?”
He doesn’t skip a beat. “More than anything, Rowan.”
I nod a few times before my brain finally catches up and I can form words. “Yes,” I mutter. “I’d love that too.”
Caspian smiles. It’s big and wide. Genuine. He looks truly happy, and it’s such a beautiful look on him. Knowing he’s smiling likethisbecause of me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I’m on cloud nine.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Rowan
Three Months Later
“Rowan…” My name slides off Caspian’s tongue, half whine, half growl. It makes me chuckle, this power exchange. He throws me a pleading look over his shoulder. “Come the fuck on, Rowan. I’m ready.”
Clucking my tongue at him, I say, “Patience, grasshopper.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he scoffs, pushing himself back.
“I don’t want to hurt you, princess.” I’m surprised I can even get the pet name out without cracking up,especiallywhen he throws me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen, eyes narrowed into slits. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from busting up.
“Don’t even start with that shit, Row. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“But you make it so easy, baby.” I giggle, slapping a hand over my mouth as he rolls his eyes.
We’re currently some odd thirty thousand feet in the air, flying over the Atlantic Ocean on our way back to the States. Wicked Hearts wrapped up the last show on the European part of their tour last night. It was a huge success, and fun as hell to witness. It was unlike anything else I’d ever done, and I’m so fucking happy I got to come along for the ride.
About a week ago, Harlan told us all when we were shit-faced drunk that he wasn’t going to hook up with any more people while on tour. Mind you, this is the same man who has a different body in his bed every. Single. Night. There’s apparently someone back home who he’s got his eye on, but they won’t give him the time of day because they state he’s an “insufferable playboy, who can’t keep it in his pants,” and I mean, they aren’t wrong.
Anyway, heinsisted, hand to God, he was turning over a new leaf, and he wasn’t going to sleep around anymore. Cas was being all super supportive bro-dude, sticking up for him when all the rest of us laughed our fucking asses off, saying he wouldn’t even make it to the end of tour… aweekbefore he was getting his dick wet.
