Talon (Ashes & Embers 4)

My fingers shake as I type to my brother.

Me: Where did you get this?

Asher: From Mom. The guy is her brother, Damon. He had just gotten out of prison and she went to see him. There is no ex. She crossed it out but it’s still readable.

Me: When I read it, it ended with the shit about the guy. This other stuff wasn’t there

Asher: This is what I meant about reading things you shouldn’t be reading

Me: I fucked up bad.

Asher: Yup.

I can’t stop reading the journal page. Why couldn’t she have finished writing before I found it? Everything I waited so long to hear from her is right here in this fucking paragraph I never got to see. And how could I have been so fucked up that I would think she would cheat on me?

Somehow I have to fix this and make it right.

Chapter 45

Asia

"Is this stuff edible?"

My heart jumps and then sinks at the unexpected sound of that voice. The voice that's been haunting me both day and night, nonstop, since he walked out of my life. My eyes close of their own accord, pulling me into the memories of everything attached to that sexy, silly voice. Memory lane is not a place I want to visit right now. Or maybe ever.

Turning to him, I muster up every tiny ounce of courage I have to face him and not fall apart—or throw myself at him, bury myself in his neck, and just breathe him into me and never let go again. I will not cry.

"You shouldn't really eat them," I respond with a forced smile. "There's a food court just down there to the left if you're hungry, though."

He's holding one of my new gift boxes of soaps and body lotion up to his nose. "I miss this a lot. The way your soap feels and smells." The expression in his eyes is saying so much more, though, and I know he's not just talking about the soap.

I blink and swallow, taking a few steps closer to him and lifting the box out of his hands. "You actually like this one better." I hand him the lavender and vanilla gift pack. "This is the one you always liked."

"See? I don't even know what I like."

"Trust me, I know." The words escape my lips before I can stop them.

He chews the inside of his cheek. "You look great. And all of this—" he nods at my kiosk "—it all looks terrific and so professional. The new packaging is fuckin' awesome, and the logo is kick-ass. I'm really proud of you, Aze."

Aze. God, I miss hearing that shortened version of my already short name.

"Things have been going well," I reply.

"I saw on Pixie's blog that you're designing and selling some cat clothes now, too."

"You've been reading her blog?"

"Well, yeah, of course. I'm still her biggest fan."

"That's really sweet."

He looks around the mall like he's thinking, then turns his dark eyes back to me.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I fucked up. And I wanted to thank you for finding the doctor.”

All the pain I’ve tried to ignore for months rushes back, but I refuse to yell at him or break down crying. “Well, thank you for saying that,” is all I can manage to say.

"Do you want to maybe grab a bite to eat? When you're done working? I could come back."

I stop breathing for a moment. Why is he doing this? Is he crazy?

"I don't think that's a good idea…" My voice shakes and I look away from him, pretending to straighten out some boxes on display.

"Just to catch up. I want to hear everything that's been going on with you. I miss talking to you. You're the only one who really ever talked to me—or listened to me." He touches my cheek, and I see the tiny tattoo on his ring finger. The ring is gone, but I'm still there.

"Talon..." I lean my cheek into his hand, then capture it with my own, squeezing it before I let him go.

"I can't. I'm sorry. It's just not good timing." How long does it take for a broken heart to unbreak? Does it ever go back together again? Or is it just forever damaged, eternally weakened, shivering in the dark among our bones?

His eyes remain on mine, unblinking and waiting, and I wonder if my voice was too soft and he didn't hear me say no. I almost wish he didn't, so I could take it back.

Finally, he flashes me his beautiful smile. "Okay, I understand. No harm in trying, right? If you change your mind, text me. Anytime."

"Sounds good," I say casually, as if we're merely old friends.

Taking out his wallet, he attempts to pay me for the soaps, but I push his hand away. "Just take them. A thank-you gift from me for helping me with all this. I couldn't have done it without your help—and the money."

Without warning, he pulls me into an embrace and hugs me tightly, and I think I hug him even tighter.

"You're still my girl," he sighs into my neck, the closeness of him sucking the breath right out of me like a vacuum. Yes, I am. I always will be.

"I still love you," I whisper, my lips against his ear, my hand at the back of his neck, tangling in that messy, silky hair I miss so much. I don't want to let go.

He didn't hear it, of course. But I said it. I got it out, and maybe that's enough. Sometimes, maybe just hearing words isn't enough. Sometimes, they have to be felt to be heard.

We pull away slowly, like magnets that keep wavering, trying to connect again until the space is too far, and we separate. I don't watch him walk away because I did that once already, and I can't do it again.

I close up the kiosk an hour early, my mind and body drained and raw after seeing him. I wish he hadn't come by and opened up all those wounds again. I can still smell his cologne on my clothes from when he hugged me, and now I just want to bury myself in my blouse and inhale his scent.

I wish I had said yes to him.

What a coward I was—to whisper my heart to the side of him I knew was safe. Hiding behind his deafness… How low could I sink?

Later that night, I lie in bed and flip through the photos in my phone until I find the one I need to see again. The one of him sleeping with Pixie nestled in his neck, purring against his ear. His hair is messy, half covering his face, the rest on the pillow around his head. One arm is raised, his hand curled and resting against Pixie, the other lying on his naked chest.

I loved him so much that day. I thought the next day would be the start of our new forever, free of experiments. The day we chose each other. But instead, it was the day he shattered my heart.

* * *

I was doing so well until he stopped by that day a month ago. Since then, I can't stop thinking of him, dreaming about him, and wanting him. I thought maybe I was over him, or at least making progress, but now I know I'm not even close. And then I get a text from Lukas.

Lukas: Remember when I did you that favor? ;-)

Me: I do…

Lukas: Do one for me now?

I can't say no, because, well, it's Lukas.

Me: ok :-)

Lukas: Come to the little café down the street from my shop tonight at around 8pm

I frown at my phone, confused.

Me: I can do that. Will you be there?

Lukas: I will be, playing some music that I think you'll like.

Me: I'll be there.

I'm not sure what he's up to, and I'm a little scared to find out, but I can't not show up. I shower and dress in skinny jeans, black boots, and a low-cut purple silk blouse. I put on my dandelion necklace, because I wear it every day. I throw a tattered-up black scarf I made over my neck, kiss Pixie good-bye, and head out the door.

As I drive to the café, I'm pretty sure I'm being set up, and I don't know how I feel about it. I can't let myself think that far ahead. I'm just going to go, see what Lukas has planned, and take it one moment at a time.

I haven't been to the café since Talon and I got lattes there the day I got my tattoo from Lukas, but it's different now. It's been expanded into the space next to it that used to be a boutique. The entire inside has been remodeled with distressed wood floors and vintage musical instruments hanging on the w

alls, and there's a stage area taking up a large portion of the back for what looks like open mic night. It's crowded, so I can't see much when I first walk in, but I do see the big sign across the top of the slate menu on the wall: Valentine Café & Chill.

Valentine? Did Lukas buy this place?

I make my way toward the back through the crowd just as the music starts, and I'd know the voice that's singing anywhere. Finally, I see them, sitting together on the stage under the dim lights. Talon, perched on a stool in the front, playing acoustic guitar and singing, Lukas behind him playing violin, and Rayne off to the side, also singing. They sound amazing together, their voices both soft and raspy, even sexy. I find a small empty table and sit, not able to take my eyes off of them. Talon finally notices me and looks surprised for a moment, then winks at me. Judging by the look on his face, I'm pretty sure he had no idea I was coming. I try not to stare at him, but he looks even better than he did the last time I saw him. His hair is a bit longer, a shade darker, and he's got a five-o'clock shadow that makes him appear older, a little less pretty. His arms and shoulders are more muscular, straining against the black T-shirt with the skulls on it that I designed for him last year. Around his neck, I see our wedding bands on a silver chain. My breath catches at seeing something so personal and unexpected. Being so close to him, watching his fingers dance over the strings, and hearing his sexy scratchy voice dredge up so many memories and feelings that it’s almost overwhelming. I still feel that intense pull to him, that fluttery electric connection that makes me want to get closer to him, embrace him, and never let go.

They play for about an hour and a half, and Lukas approaches me first when they're done. He leans down and kisses my cheek. "You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No. Not at all." I worked hard to let go of my anger. If I hadn’t, it would have eaten me alive.

"Good. What do you think of the new café? It's ours—mine and Talon's."

My mouth falls open. "Wow! Lukas, it's amazing. What a cool idea."

"We thought having a café that catered to local musicians would be pretty neat. It's been doing great. We kept the manager and employees from the previous shop, cuz we don't know shit about how to make coffee."

I laugh as Talon approaches the table, looking nervous and a little shy.

"I'm gonna head home," Lukas says. "You two should catch up."

"Thanks, Lukas," I reply. "We'll talk soon."

Talon hovers by the table after Lukas leaves. "Can I sit?"