Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(83)
“Not really. Sometimes when you meet a person, you just connect on a different level. Like platonic soulmates.” He shifted into the seat beside me, his shoulder resting against mine as he glanced down the bus. Gray, Rhett, and Angelo were chatting to Hannah, and I could see what he meant. Jace’s bandmates were his platonic soulmates. His heart friends.
“That’s really beautiful, Jace,” I said softly as he looked back to meet my gaze. “You should write song lyrics with that kind of prose. You could be really good at it.”
He grinned and rolled his eyes. “Funny, Rose. Real funny. Actually… I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. “Uh… what kind of favor?” Ever since that night in Edinburgh when he’d rejected my booty call, things between us had been… I don’t even know. Weird. Not in a bad way, like I’d been prepared for. Just confusing.
Jace ran a hand over the back of his neck, which drew my attention to his ink-covered bicep, and then I started to think filthy things about that arm wrapped around my waist as he hoisted me up onto a counter and—
“Could you take a look at some lyrics for me? I was working on something back in the UK, and it was flowing really well, like, better than I’d ever vibed with a song, and then…” He trailed off with a small, frustrated groan.
“What killed the muse?” I smiled because Jace had always been like that. He’d be pouring music out of his soul, and then the slightest disruption would break his focus and it’d be gone.
He pouted in a stupidly attractive way. Boys pouting shouldn’t be that sexy. “Grayson. Anyway, would you take a look?”
I shrugged. “Sure. I’ll see what you’ve got.”
Jace flashed me an appreciative, if embarrassed smile, then pulled his notebook out. The cover and pages were dog-eared and well-worn, but he flipped through quickly to find the song he wanted help on. Spreading the pages, he passed it over to me with a small frown of worry on his face.
Intrigued, I raised a brow at him before starting to read the lyrics. He’d scribbled messy music notes below the lines of poetry, so it took up a dozen or so pages, and I quickly found myself immersed in the story his song wove. I could almost hear the melody in my mind, with Jace’s honey voice singing the lyrics to me. Because at the heart of it, this song was from Jace to me.
When I reached the end, where his pen had scrawled across the page as Grayson interrupted him, I sniffed and wiped my damp cheeks.
“Jace,” I whispered in a hoarse voice. “This is…”
“All true,” he murmured, his eyes downcast to the notebook in my hand. “And should have been said a long time ago.”
I swallowed hard, focusing on the page where his pen trailed off. Then I frowned. “Why is the paper crusty?”
Jace sucked in a sharp breath, his cheeks flaming red. “Oh, uh, I spilled something.”
I wrinkled my nose, scratching at the crusty paper to try and save the ink beneath. “Were you eating yogurt or something? Fuck, Jace, you could have ruined the whole book.”
“Yeah. Yogurt. It’s a good, um, composing snack. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Can you help me finish it? I thought… maybe it’s something we need to do together?” His eyes filled with hope and an apology, just like the song in my hands. The question wasn’t whether I could help him write a song, it was whether I could forgive all the shitty things he’d said to me in the last few months. Whether I could forgive him for walking away from our love so easily all those years ago.
I drew a deep breath. “We used to write so well together,” I murmured, running my thumb over the damaged page again, a tornado of conflicting emotions swirling through me.
“We still could,” he replied in a soft voice, his hand finding mine and squeezing gently. “Couldn’t we?”
I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to say yes… but I also wasn’t totally sure I was ready to forgive him. So many mean comments could be easily brushed off, but his anger and resentment about the loss of our baby was a tough one to swallow. Whether he apologized now, or not, I couldn’t forget the things he’d said and the way he’d felt. Not yet. Not so easily, and goddamn, that hurt.
My lips parted, my eyes locked with his, but no words came out. A moment later, the bus slowed to a stop, and Hannah announced that we’d arrived at our vacation house.
“Rose…” Jace pleaded, but I peeled my hand out of his grip and handed the notebook back.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, sliding out of my seat. “I just don’t…” I trailed off before I could really start crying. Unable to face the crushing disappointment in his gaze, I turned away and hurried off the bus.
“Everything okay?” Angelo asked, glancing back to the bus. “That seemed intense.”
Gritting my teeth, I gave him a brittle smile. “Fine. We good to go in?” Our security had arrived a few minutes before us, by the look of things, and one of the guys at the door gave us a wave to indicate it was safe to enter.
Angelo looped his arm around my shoulders as we made our way inside, and I snuggled into his body. Fucking hell… what would I do about Jace?
“…five bedrooms, six bathrooms, steam room and sauna, home gym, infinity-edge pool,” a smartly dressed woman I vaguely recognized as the property agent was saying, “and of course, a recording studio, in case the muse feels right and you want to extend your stay. The owner is a big fan and all too happy to accommodate whatever you request.”