Chapter 13
A GLIMMER OF HOPE
LILY
I wake up surrounded by warmth and the comforting weight of familiar bodies, feeling a delicious ache that brings a blush to my cheeks.
Memories of last night flood my mind as the soft light of dawn filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow.
For a moment, I lie still, savoring the intimacy of the moment.
Enzo and Dylan sleep soundly on either side of me.
Enzo’s arm is draped possessively across my waist, his body pressed against my back.
I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, grounding me.
Dylan lies on my other side, his hand resting lightly across my shoulders, his breath tickling the nape of my neck.
The three of us are tangled together, a cocoon of warmth and safety, and I wish I could freeze this moment in time.
I trail my fingers lightly over Dylan’s arm, tracing the smoothness of his inked skin and the occasional roughness of a scar.
He’s always been the joker of the group, trying to keep the mood light even when everything is crumbling.
But lately, even his humor feels forced, a fragile mask for the concern and exhaustion he hides.
His fearful words from the other day on the bus float to the front of my mind, and I know that he is worried about what will happen next. If the band can make it through this.
Enzo, in contrast, is a storm—fiery, intense, and unpredictable. His anger is his shield, a defense against showing vulnerability. But beneath that tough exterior, I know there’s a depth of emotion he rarely reveals. Except he has shown it to me. Quite often recently.
As I lie sandwiched between them, gratitude washes over me.
Despite everything, we have each other. In this moment, that’s enough.
Carefully, I untangle myself from their embrace.
Not wanting to disturb their rare, deep sleep, I slip out of the room, silently snatching up my clothes without waking them.
I pad quietly into the main area of the suite, pulling on my clothing as I walk. The early morning light streams inside the main living space as well, painting everything in soft hues that give it a dreamlike quality. The scent of freshly brewed coffee leads me to the kitchen, where I find Marcus.
He’s standing at the counter, his blond hair tousled, blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion. His presence tugs at my heart. I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek against his back. The aroma of coffee mingles with his familiar cedar scent.
“I miss you,” I whisper, feeling the stress radiating from his body. “I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk recently.”
Marcus sighs, placing his hands over mine. “I miss you too, Lily. It’s been… a rough few days.”
His voice carries an edge of exhaustion, and guilt pounds against my chest. I’ve been trying to split my time equally among the guys, but it feels like I’m failing. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore—just that I care deeply for all of them and want to be someone they can rely on.
He turns to me, pulling me into his arms. I rest my chin against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat comforting me. For a moment, we simply stand there, wrapped in quiet connection. When he pulls away, it’s slow, like he’s reluctant to let go.
Marcus studies my face, his eyes soft yet searching. “Have some coffee with me?”
“I’d love to,” I say, starting to move toward the cupboards.
Before I can reach them, his hand gently stops me, resting on my hip. “Go sit. I’ll bring it to you.”
I hesitate, glancing back at him. The determination etched into his features tells me it’s not worth arguing. As much as I feel guilty about not spending more time with him recently, I know this is his way of caring for me—something he needs to do right now.
Moving to the small table, I settle into a chair, watching as Marcus moves with practiced ease, preparing our coffee. A few moments later, he places two steaming mugs on the table and sits across from me.
I cradle the mug between my hands. The warmth seeps into my skin, and I breathe in the rich aroma. For the second time today, a small sense of comfort and normalcy settles over the morning, fragile but welcome.
“You know,” Marcus starts, his voice heavy, “before Jax got tangled up in all this, we had such big dreams for the band. Touring felt like freedom, a way to see the world together. Now it feels like a trap. Everywhere we go, it’s just… chaos.”
I reach out, squeezing his hand. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you guys. But maybe we can figure out a way to make things better.”
He looks at me, a flicker of hope breaking through the exhaustion. “What are you thinking?”
“Do you have a computer?”
“I have an iPad,” he replies.
“Can I borrow it?”
Marcus nods and retreats to one of the bedrooms, returning moments later with a tablet in hand. He hands it to me before settling back at the table.
I quickly finish my coffee and move into the main living area, where we find space on the couch together. His leg presses against mine, his hand resting lightly on my thigh. His steady presence is soothing as I dive into the work ahead.
I start scrolling through articles on addiction recovery, absorbing as much information as I can.
Ideas begin forming as I shift my focus to retreats.
Wellness centers, remote getaways, anywhere that might offer Jax the space to heal and all of us the time to regroup.
The soft murmur of the TV Marcus has turned on provides a calming backdrop, though his attention shifts between me, his tablet, and the show.
His hand stays firmly in place, a silent reassurance.
As I research, I think about each of the guys: Enzo’s fiery intensity, Dylan’s forced levity, and Jax’s struggles pulling us all into his downward spiral. Then there’s Marcus—steady, dependable Marcus. His calm presence is the glue holding us together.
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts, I don’t immediately realize that the noise from the TV has stopped.
Once the silence registers, I look up and find Marcus is watching me.
A soft smile plays on his lips as he leans in and kisses me—a tender, lingering kiss that sends a bolt of warmth straight through me.
“Thank you, Lily,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against mine.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” I respond.
“You being here and trying is enough.” His hand smooths down my hair before he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. Then, as if sensing my need to focus, he turns the TV volume back on, the sound filling the room again.
I watch him for a moment longer, letting his gratitude wash over me, before returning to the tablet. His quiet support bolsters me as I complete my research, my ideas solidifying into a tangible plan.
By the time the others wake up and join us in the living room, I’ve sketched out a proposal. Enzo and Dylan perch on the couch across from Marcus and I, curiosity written on their faces. Jax remains in his room, the nurse keeping a close eye on him.
“I have a plan,” I announce, looking at each of them.
“What kind of plan?” Enzo asks, skepticism clear in his tone.
“We need these next three weeks to regroup and recover,” I explain. “I found a retreat in Montana. It’s remote, private, and perfect for us. We can focus on wellness, recharge, and you guys can even work on some new music—away from the public eye.”
Dylan nods slowly, his initial doubt giving way to cautious optimism. “That actually sounds... perfect. But how do we pull it off?”
“I’ve already looked into several places and picked the best fit. I reached out, and they have availability. Harris has all the details and is ready to book it if everyone agrees.” I hold up the tablet, showing them the information. “We can leave tomorrow. It’s exactly what we need.”
Marcus squeezes my hand, his expression one of quiet gratitude. “This is perfect,” he says softly.
Enzo narrows his eyes, his skepticism lingering, but after a beat, he nods. “Alright, Lily. Let’s give it a shot.”
As we hash out the final details, a flicker of hope stirs in my chest. It’s just a plan—a first step on a long road—but for now, it feels like it’s enough.