A Flawed Heart (27 page)

He places my bound hands against his heart.

“Claire, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you this upset. I
didn’t mean what I said back there. I just…I love you so much. I want you to
have everything you deserve—a nice life, with a guy who treats you right.
Asking you to stay with me regardless of how fucked up I
am
is
selfish. Don’t you ever think your life would be easier if you weren’t
in love with me?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve never thought that. I do have everything.
I have everything I want. I have
you.
Don’t you see that? I’d rather be
hurt by you than be happy with someone else. I want to be with you. That’s all
that matters to me.”

Again, I feel tears spill from my eyes. There is no anger or
hurt behind these tears, only my love for Jason. I place my hand against his
cheek and look down. I feel ashamed that I tried to hit him. “I’m sorry,” I
whisper.

“Look at me. What I said on the roof, it couldn’t be further
from the truth. I’ll always want you by my side. I’ve never been more certain
of anything in my life. I would marry you.”

I hear a thud as my heart drops from my chest and lands at
me feet. I gasp. “What did you say?”

Jason smiles.
“I said I would marry
you, Claire. I can’t see my life any other way. I’m not saying we should do it
now. I just want you to know that I want to be with you forever. When I think
about my future, that’s what I see. I see
you
.”

I close my eyes, and he takes my face between his hands and
kisses me. His lips brush mine and then they move to my cheeks, tasting my
tears. He kisses each of my eyelids and tilts my head back to kiss my neck. His
touch is slow and so soft. My head swims with the realization that Jason wants
me, forever. My skin begins to burn.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I say and he nods.

We enter my bedroom and my hands roam all over him. We
undress each other and fumble in the dark, then we get in my bed and I lower
myself onto him. Our usual need to feel physical pleasure is overridden by a
deep feeling of closeness. We rock against each other, tears and sweat mingling
together as Jason and I reconcile. But, even in a tender moment, he can’t
contain his intensity. He moves me and guides my body. His mouth and his hands
never leave my skin. We remain joined together until we both feel relief.
Afterward, his hands wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me against him.

Home.

Chapter Fourteen

I awake to the stabbing rays of morning sunlight, and find
Jason already dressed. I roll toward his empty side of the bed. He smiles and
leans down to kiss my forehead. I reach up to touch his long, sexy neck.

It’s the day of his showcase, and I burn with nerves. Jason
is the picture of excitement. It’s as if the argument we had yesterday was a
dream, and I’m happy to be awake. The nervous fire in my stomach flames even
further when I remember our conversation in the car…and Jason’s promise to me.

“I have to go over to the space to take care of some last minute
things. I’ll see you later, okay? Meet me at the Hall?” He buckles his belt and
smiles at me.

“Yeah, okay. I think Lydia wants us to get ready together,
so we’ll meet you there.” I yawn and stretch.

He sits on the edge of the bed and grabs my bare foot. He
tickles me and I laugh, yanking my foot away. His expression becomes somber.

“Claire, I want to ask you something.”

“Yeah.
Anything.”

“It’s my mother’s birthday next week. My father and Lydia
usually go to visit her grave on that day. I was wondering
,
would you come with me…to see her?”

I sit up straight and reach for his hands. I know how big a
step this would be for him, and I can’t believe he wants me to be there for it.

“Baby, of course I’ll go. I would be honored to be there.”

His eyes roam every part of my body, as if he’s making a
mental picture of this moment. Then he shows me the crooked smile I’ll never
tire of seeing, the smile that brightens any room he is in, and makes me smile
in return.

“Good,” he says. His hand moves down to my breast, which is
sheathed only in the bed sheet. He bites at my earlobe, and I feel my scalp
begin to prickle, and I shiver from how good it feels.

“I’d love nothing more than to get back into bed with you
right now, but I really have to go. You’re going to be great tonight, so don’t
worry. We’ve practiced these songs a hundred times, and you sound even more
amazing each time we do. I love you.” He pulls me into his tight embrace.

“I love you, too. I’ll see you tonight.”

The door clicks shut, and I’m left alone in my room.

“I don’t need all of this makeup,” I protest from my perch
on the bathroom counter.

“Yes, you do. This is a big deal, Claire. You’re going to be
photographed for articles on the event, the lighting will be strong, and all
eyes will be on you, so you
do
need a lot of makeup. Not that you’re not
naturally
gorgeous, but this is a special occasion, so just suck it up
and let me do my thing.”

She pulls out an eyelash curler, which I’m convinced was an
instrument of torture in medieval times.

“So, what happened after you left the show last night?” she
asks.

“Well, Jason and I sort of had a fight actually.” I cringe
at the memory.

She drops the curler into her makeup bag and picks up the
eyeliner.
“About what?”

“Well, I just asked him about the future and what he sees
happening with us. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have even asked.”

“I find it hard to believe that Jason would give you an
answer you didn’t want to hear.”

“I was surprised, too. He said he thought I deserved better
than he can give me.”

Lydia stops primping me. Her eyes crinkle together as she
contemplates what I’ve said. “And what do you think?”

“I want your brother in my life. I
need
him to be in
my life. He’s like the air I breathe, and I know he feels the same. That’s why
it was so hard to hear him say what he did. It’s fine now. We worked it out.”

“Well, that’s good because tonight is a big night for him,
and I know he couldn’t do it without you.” She slides a brush through my hair. “Every
couple argues. The important thing is that you forgive and move forward.”

“Moving forward is exactly what I want to do.”

Little electric spiders are crawling all over my skin. Night
is beginning to fall, and I pace back and forth as I smoke outside the hall
while waiting for Jason. I feel him as he approaches. The connection between us
sings, and I turn my head to watch him walking toward me. My eyes consume him
from head to toe. His black combat boots thud against the sidewalk as he
swaggers toward me, wearing jeans and a black,
V
-neck
shirt. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up, and his elbows stick out at his
sides from where his hands are jammed into his pockets. His guitar case is
slung across his back, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. The smoke causes
his eyes to squint. He doesn’t see me yet.

The outside world blurs and I feel something rise in my
chest. It’s love,
it’s
desire, but it’s more than
that. It almost feels like pride. Like a victory—I’ve won some unseen
competition, and Jason is my prize.
Jason
is mine…and he always will be.

His eyes lift and finally he sees me. I turn to face him,
and the wind ruffles my frilly, black top. I feel a chill, but then he’s next
to me and I feel nothing but warmth.

“I’ll never get tired of finding you waiting for me.” He
grabs my hips and pulls me into him, but doesn’t kiss me. His lips linger just
an inch from mine and I catch the minty, smoky scent of his breath. “Are you
nervous?” he asks.

“I’m terrified,” I admit with a smile.

“Don’t be.”

He presses his sweet lips against mine for a long moment. Then
we walk into the backstage area, to find the tight quarters filled with other
musicians preparing for the festival. I look around, feeling out of place. A
blonde girl sits at a piano, chewing her nails rather than playing. An Asian
kid sits with his violin across his knees, eyes closed. A long haired, metal
dude jumps up and down in the corner. Each musician seems to have their own
method of handling their nerves and preparing for the show.

Jason guides me through the space to a smaller room where
Ben and Lydia wait. Lydia is sipping hot tea with her legs folded next to Ben’s
drums. Ben lightly splashes the cymbals with his drumsticks and taps his foot
against the pedal of the bass drum.

“Fucking finally,” he says when he sees Jason and me. “You
psyched, Claire? I can’t wait for this shit. We’re
gonna
burn this place down tonight!”

Clearly, any feelings of inadequacy Ben had, regarding his
abilities as a drummer, have faded away. He rises from behind the drum set and
gives Jason a shoulder pound, then lifts me up and hugs me. I wrap my arms
around his neck, and Jason sits on the floor beside his sister. He takes out
his guitar as Ben sets me back down, and we begin to rehearse. Lydia holds my
hand as we sing together, and I settle into the comfortable rhythm of the songs
we’ve been practicing for weeks.

We’re up next. I feel more relaxed than I did this morning,
but I’m still nervous. Being on a stage is something I’ve never done before.
Jason, Lydia and Ben seem as if they were born to do this. We leave the
rehearsal area and stand in the dim light behind the curtain. Jason’s eyes are
sparkling with anticipation and his passion for performing. I hear his name
announced and I rise up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiles at me and I
squint as the curtain opens, taking the darkness away with it. I can’t really
see the crowd, only the blaring brightness of the stage lights, but I can hear
them roar with applause. Jason takes my hand, and we walk out onto the stage
together.

The buzz of the waiting crowd makes me freeze up. I want to
hide, but I can’t. I look at Jason, and I thank God for him. He holds me up…he
holds me together, whether he realizes it or not. He strides to the center of
the stage and I follow behind him, taking my place on his left. Lydia is on his
right. She stands like an angel demanding entry at the gates of heaven,
delicate and fierce at the same time. Ben is the last to lumber out, claiming
his throne behind the drum set.

I look out over the edge of the stage. Faces in the crowd
become clear to me. I fight against my apprehension and focus only on Jason. He
shines brighter than any light in this room. His keyboard stands in front of
him and his guitars rest next to his mike. He clears his throat, and then
greets the packed performance hall.

“Hello. I’m Jason Taylor.”

I bite my lip at how sexy he sounds amplified through this
building, and the hum of the audience welcoming him makes me smile from ear to
ear. He slips his guitar strap over his head, slings it across his muscular
back, spreads his fingers, and plays a chord on the keyboard in front of him. I
hear Ben splash the high-hat cymbal, and he begins with a soft beat.
My heart pounds.
I look to Lydia and she nods in
encouragement. The spotlight falls on us, and I begin to sing, eyes closed.

My voice is shaky, but I hit my stride as we reach the
chorus. I’m on key and hitting every note. I open my eyes and see Jason
striking the keyboard. My confidence crawls out from under my fear. He swings
his guitar around in front of his body, then takes a pick from between his lips
and begins to strum the heavy chorus, then slides the guitar behind his back
again and returns to playing the piano chords with one hand. I am in awe of his
musical talent. Playing two instruments at once is not an easy thing to do, and
a less skilled musician wouldn’t be able to meet the challenge.

He
smiles at me, and it gives me strength. I feel my heartbeat return to normal,
and I look around the hall. I feed on the amazing energy of the crowd. I feel a
flood rushing out of me as Jason plays his guitar solo and Lydia dances in
front of her mike. Jason shreds the end of the song with a complicated guitar
solo, and the audience roars. I feel their love thrown at us in waves. Then,
the energy of the room shifts as we finish the song and the lights dim.

Lydia and I sit down on stools behind our mikes. Only a
spotlight shines on Jason. He’s dressed in black, and the light is blue and
soft. He looks down as he begins to caress the strings of his guitar. The
melody is low, and my heart twinges. Ben accompanies him with a gentle beat.
Jason sings. His voice slices like a knife drawing blood. He bobs his head as
he plays, his fingers slip across the neck of the guitar.

Even though he doesn’t look at me, I feel him trying to mend
himself. His catharsis comes through his chords and his words. He’s pushing his
demons away; they roll off his tongue. He looks toward me as he sings.

I see myself reflected in his eyes, the way I shield him,
the way I make him better…stronger. And he does the same for me. I watch him as
he sings, exposing his soul to everyone in this room. As always, Jason says
more with his music than he ever could with words. A lump rises in my throat as
the song ends. The stage lights come back up, and he waves to the crowd as they
honor him with their screams and whistles. And Jason simply says, “Thank you.”

The lights fade again and I move to my mike. Jason moves
toward his sister. She dances toward him, taking the mike with her. She sings
with fire and I can almost see Lydia’s spirit glowing. She spots her dad in the
audience and points toward him, smiling. He’s standing and clapping along with
the song. The pride leaps off of his face as he watches his children perform.
For a second I think I see my mama standing next to him, but I shake that silly
thought from my brain. The song ends, and Lydia bows like a ballerina as the
crowd salutes her.