32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jamie
“ T his is the place you told me about?” Caiden asks, his lips purse and his nose scrunches up adorably. I look around the interior of The Shed and think I must have stepped into a portal or parallel universe.
Outside, the bar looks as it always has but inside, everything is different. Gone are the old mismatched tables and chairs, the music memorabilia on the wall and the small, dimly lit stage. In their place are what can only be described as an attempt at creating an authentic western style saloon. Cowboy hats and horseshoes hang on the walls and, there's these really badly drawn ‘wanted’ posters above each of the wooden booths.
“When was the last time you were here?” Caiden sounds just as confused as I feel.
I look around and take in the unfamiliar surroundings, nothing of the old place remaining.
“Not since…not since before.” Before Cooper died. Everything is now either before or after, like his death was the pinnacle turning point in both our lives. “I saw a sign saying it was under new management earlier this year, but never expected this .”
“Should we leave?” Caiden suggests. We’re still standing awkwardly in the doorway. I’d have expected to hear from one of my friends about this, only I doubt any of them have been here in months. Leo took a job in New York, Lulu got married and gave birth to twins and Dominic moved to Bristol. I stopped being sociable, which meant Sage wouldn’t come alone and so our days of visiting The Shed were officially over. So much for thinking coming here would be one thing that would never change.
The music playing isn’t to my taste - I’ve never been into country music - but the dance floor is lively and everyone appears to be having a good time. Laugher and chatter mixing with the catchy melodies and harmonic vocals.
“No, we’re here now, we may as well make the best of it.” With my hand on Caiden’s lower back, I guide him through a group of people and towards the back where a long wooden bar runs along one wall. Stools covered in faux leather cow print sit beneath it, and I spot two free between a group of girls and an older couple.
“I was hoping for an old school open mic night. I guess there goes my plan to serenade you,” I joke.
“You were really going to do that?” We sit close together, our knees bumping and his hand on my upper leg. His other hand rests on the table top and I play absentmindedly with the bracelet on it.
“Now you’ll never know.”
Caiden laughs, his entire body lighting up in a way that makes everything in me light up too. There’s a funny feeling in my stomach, warm and fluffy, not quite butterflies but something….more. The longer he laughs, his blue eyes sparkling, the stronger the feeling gets.
“There used to be a stage right over there,” I point to the far end of the bar. “They had the best bands - some of my favourite eighties covers.”
“What's with your love of eighties music anyway?” Caiden asks, his fingers absentmindedly tracing my knee, then drawing circles over my upper leg, totally oblivious to the way his touch does all sorts of things to my body.
“I get that from Mum, she’s been playing it to me from the day she found out she was pregnant. There's something about the lyrics of songs out of that time period that are so powerful. New music is good but nothing seems to hit in the same way.”
Caiden grins. “Are you a music snob?”
“Oh! Absolutely!” I joke.
He laughs again, and fuck me, but happy Caiden is going to wreck my heart with how fast he's making it beat. My ears burn, and if I saw myself in the mirror, I'm sure I'd see bright red spots on my cheeks too.
“We need drinks!” I say, clearing my throat and rubbing the back of my neck.
Caiden keeps hold of our seats while I head to the bar and order us two beers. The bartender, a guy around my age, takes my payment then starts filling our glasses, pulling two pints from the tap.
“When did this place get a makeover?” I ask him.
He looks over my shoulder at the crowd gathering behind me. “Probably about three or four months ago. The original owners emigrated to somewhere warmer and sold it to this couple who closed it down for a bit and turned it into this.” He taps at the dark brown stetson on his head.
“It’s an interesting place,” I muse.
The bartender chuckles. “The locals love it. Themed nights, bargain cocktails and there's talk of adding one of those mechanical bull things. Personally, I think the whole thing is a little cheesy but they pay well.” He shrugs, pushes my beers forward, then turns his attention to the next person in line.
“Sorry that took so long,” I say once I’m back at our seats. “This place may look different but it’s hugely popular.”
We make small talk while sipping our beers, our knees intertwined as we lean into each other. Eventually though, I bring up the one thing we’ve been dancing around.
“What time do you have to leave tomorrow?” My stomach gives a tug and I take a sip of beer and ignore the pang.
“My train’s at two. Dad has an early meeting but said he’ll be home by lunch to see me off.”
“Do you think you’ll move back here?” It’s been on the tip of my tongue to ask him for days now but I’ve been too afraid of the answer. He’s gotten really close with Duncan - their relationship having quickly evolved into something I haven’t before seen between them, but I don’t know if that’s enough reason for him.
Caiden looks around the bar before his blues meet my greens. “I don’t know. Being back has been great but there’s a lot about this town I don’t miss.” I get that. Our little Devonshire seaside town is small, uneventful and apart from in the summer seasons when it’s rammed with tourists, is nothing but a tiny blip on the map. Kingston, by comparison, sits on the outskirts of London, it’s large and never sleeps - there’s always something going on there. Part of me though, doesn’t believe that’s the only reason he’s hesitant to come back.
There’s a lull in the conversation, both of us aware that there’s more that needs to be said but, in what seems to have become the norm for us, we ignore it and change the subject.
“Dance with me?” I ask, tipping my head towards the dancefloor where a group is attempting to line dance, led by an older man in leather chaps and a stetson to match the one the bartender was wearing.
“You can’t be serious?” Caiden eyes the group warily while shaking his head.
Jumping out of my seat, I take both his hands in mine. “I told you we were going to dance tonight. Come.”
He scowls but it’s all for show, his body falling into mine as he stands from his stool. “I don’t do shit like this,” he says. My lips brush the tender spot behind his ear which is a central line to his dick and he moans softly. “You have far too much power over me,” he whines playfully.
“I like getting my way,” I say, turning him and pushing him towards the dance floor. We join the group of girls who were sitting near us earlier, and spend the next few hours doing badly choreographed dances to Achy Breaky Heart and a playlist of country music I’ve never heard before. We’re both sweaty, a little tipsy and so fucking happy, my muscles hurts from smiling.
Caiden was clearly born with two left feet and no rhythm, but he’s so fucking endearing and utterly gorgeous - all black locks and rosy cheeks - that I can’t stop watching him. When he trips over his own feet and stumbles into me, my body sings at his proximity.
“I’m going to miss you,” he says, his words slurring. “Long distance can work, don’t you think? Not like it’s even that big of a distance. We can see each other on weekends.”
Ask me to come with you.
I think of everything I have going for me here - which quite honestly, is nothing - and wonder if starting over somewhere else, much like he did, is exactly what I need. Opening my mouth to tell him, I’m halted by the appearance of someone in front of me that I hoped to never see again.
Caiden is chest to chest with me, his back to the woman standing on the edge of our group. Why and how is she here? Why tonight? Why can’t he ever catch a break?
My mind races to find a way to get Caiden out of the bar before either of them notice each other. But, I’m too late. The dark haired woman, with features so much like his, walks towards us.
“Caidy? Is it really you, baby?” she yells over the music. People around us stop what they’re doing to stare at her.
Caiden’s eyes widen seconds before he spins on his heels, coming face to face with his mother.
“Mum?”
She rushes him, throwing her arms over his shoulders dramatically, bringing back memories of the way she acted at Cooper's funeral. Caiden tenses and takes a step back. She drops her hold on him - thankfully before I had the chance to rip her away - and frowns.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Her demeanor changes in a flash, like a lightswitch being flipped. ”You’ve been ignoring me for years!” Her voice is sharp, angry and it makes Caiden flinch and take another step backwards until his back hits my chest. “How could you treat your own mother like that?”
It’s laughable coming from her, what with the way she treated both her sons like an afterthought for all their lives.
Caiden’s body shakes and he scratches anxiously at the scar on his arm. Minute by minute, I sense him shutting down. Gone is the laughter and the carefree Caiden of moments ago, replaced by the man I remember all those times before when Cooper was the only one who could hold him together.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, loud enough that only I can hear. I wrap an arm around his stomach and another over his chest, resting a hand on his frantically beating heart. My hope is that my presence, the pressure of my body on his, grounds him and prevents him from shattering to pieces that I may never be able to put back together.
He’s told me how hard he’s been working to come to terms with the way his mother treated him and Cooper. Talking about her lately has come easy to him. Seeing her is another story.
Squeezing him tighter, I narrow my eyes, watching as his mother makes a slow perusal of her son, stopping on the place where my hand rests on his heart.
“You forget you even have a mother, then have the nerve to show up in my bar with this no good piece of shit?” She spits out. It takes me a moment for the words to register and when they do, hot, white fury pumps through my veins.
“Your bar?” Caiden asks, his voice unsteady.
She doesn’t answer before I grit out, “I’m the piece of shit? That’s a joke coming from you.”
She ignores me, instead answering Caiden. “Yes, my husband and I bought it.” She points to the man in the leather chaps. Her husband. Something in her answer draws a whimper from Caiden and my heart squeezes tightly, every bone in my body aching to get him out of here.
“Come, sweetheart,” I whisper into his ear. “Let’s go.”
“God, Caidy,” she adds, a sneer in her voice. “I thought you were the smart one, not like that brother of yours. Yet here you are with his scraps.”
Something comes over Caiden, like a dark cloud cracking and breaking, unleashing a lashing of strong rain and heavy thunder. He shakes out of my hold and steps right into her space. He trembles when he speaks but his words are clear and firm.
“‘That brother’ was the best person I’ve ever known. He was too good for you. He deserved a mother who loved him, who wanted him. We both did. I cut you out of my life because you’re toxic and I didn’t want to die from your poison.”
Caiden reaches back and takes my hand, tugging lightly and bringing me to stand next to him.
“I don’t care what you think about me and Jamie. I no longer care what you think about anything.” With that, he brushes past her, and I’m on his heels as we walk out of the bar.
I expect him to fall apart. He’s shaking, his teeth chattering despite the warm air outside, but he doesn’t. Something akin to pride washes over me. This man is strong, fragile maybe, but strong in the way that glass can be both.
“I can’t come back, not for good.” The finality in his voice scares me. “There’s too much of Cooper in this place and too many reminders of the person I used to be. The one I’m working so fucking hard to leave behind. I’ll visit, but this isn’t my home anymore.”
His eyes are dark in the light of the sole street lamp outside the bar. “We can make this work, long distance if we have to. I want….I want you.” He clears his throat. “I want to be with you.”
“Then ask me.” Stepping forward, I touch my palm to his cheek, applying pressure until he meets my imploring gaze. “Ask me to come with you.”
“What about your friends and your job?” Caiden asks and I swallow thickly, still too embarrassed to tell him I quit. “I can’t expect you to pack up and move with me. That’s a big expectation for something so new. What are we even doing, Jamie?”
“What we said we would. We’re living.”
He bites his bottom lip and I have to kiss it, so I do.
“Ask me,” I mumble, letting my lips brush his. “Say the words, and let’s do this for ourselves. Let’s see how good we can be.”
Caiden clears his throat and meets my gaze. “Come with me. Live with me.” He emphasises the word ‘live’ so the double meaning isn’t lost.
Everything in my world suddenly becomes clearer and more confusing at the same time. It’s in this moment that I question everything I’ve ever believed about soulmates, and partners, and love. One look at the smile gracing Caiden’s beautiful face and I begin to wonder if I’ve been wrong all along. What if it’s possible to fall in love more than once?