Chapter Twenty-Five
Jacob was at Declan’s parents’ house for the holidays. Gwen had been invited to join them in Connecticut, but she had declined so she could go to Mabel’s for Christmas dinner. After Thanksgiving had gone so poorly, it was high time she spent a holiday with Mabel.
She got home to the empty apartment with their sad little plastic tree, and immediately opened Jacob’s laptop to write her resignation letter. She kept it short and simple and sent it off with a click before she could think any further about it.
She cried in the shower, the song she’d played still humming along her skin. Alex’s song, really. She had only written something to accompany him. And he’d wanted her to. She fell into a fitful sleep, not allowing herself to check her phone until the next day.
At five in the morning she read through the notifications she had. A few of the magazines and blogs that regularly covered the Pops had published stories on last night’s disaster. It seemed Nathan was able to spin it when Ava joined him onstage for act two as a “Christmas surprise.” But the writers did scratch their heads over Gwen’s disappearance.
Someone had filmed her playing the love song accompaniment on their phone and posted it. One of the bloggers linked to it in their article, saying, “Gwen Jackson has finally found her voice.” The X thread was full of mixed reviews, some people saying that clearly Xander Thorne had broken her heart, and the other half bemoaning her overly dramatic performance. She closed the app, not wanting to watch the video of herself.
She had six missed calls from Nathan last night after the show, and a frantic return email that begged her to come into the office on the twenty-sixth to discuss. There was one text from Ava that read, Please let me know you got home safe. That’s all I care about.
Gwen swallowed. It sounded earnest enough. She replied in the affirmative.
She got up, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and was just pulling down the ingredients for the cookies she was baking for Mabel when a pounding came from her front door. She jumped, and the flour puffed up around her face.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
She glanced at the clock on her microwave. It was six-thirty in the morning. On Christmas Day. Gwen moved quickly to pull the door open—
Alex leaned into the doorway, his hands on the frame. The room spun, and before she could decide if he was real, he demanded, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
His eyes roved over her as she stood mute.
He barreled past her into her apartment and searched the small space before turning back to her. “Is Jacob all right? Where is he?” He dragged a hand through his hair and bit the inside of his cheek.
“He’s—he’s in Connecticut. It’s Christmas,” she reminded him meekly, shutting the door. “How long have you been in New York?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
She took him in—a Henley and a leather jacket, ripped jeans. California clothes. He just got off the plane. “What—?”
“Gwen, what happened? What’s wrong?” He stepped into her, and she could smell him, drown in him. “Why didn’t you finish act two?”
“I quit the Pops.” It slipped out of her like butter, like the easiest words in the English language. “You were right about Nathan.”
Alex’s eyes were bright as they traveled over her face. “What happened?”
“He wanted to bring you back for our duo concert regardless of how we felt about it. And he…Well, I played a solo last night—”
“I know. I saw it online.”
She looked up at him. He was staring down at her like she was the sun. It was familiar. The same fascination she’d seen in him at the wedding, at the Plaza. Like she was an answer to a question he’d been asking his whole life.
“It was remarkable, Gwen.”
She looked down at her bare feet and nodded, embarrassed that she’d chosen a song that wasn’t entirely hers.
“It’s not…I didn’t mean to claim ownership over it.”
“You wrote it,” he said.
“No, you wrote it. I just riffed—”
“It’s ours. We created it together.” His fingertips traced her jaw, tilting her face up to him. “And watching you play it was life-changing.”
She felt herself sinking down, down into his praise, so before she could bury herself there she stepped back. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in San Francisco?”
“Dom told me last night that you’d DM’d him about coming to LA, but then you never came. Then I saw you playing our song, and I had to talk to you. So I asked Sophia if you ever made it, and she said Lorenz took care of it. I told Lorenz last night after the show that I needed to see you. I said I’d be back by call time for our show tonight. But he said if I got on a plane, I shouldn’t come back.”
Gwen stared at him, her mind spinning. “What?”
“I left the tour. I quit.” His deep brown eyes bored into hers. “I couldn’t think of anything except getting here. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He laughed, running a hand over his face. “I barely had a second to tell Dom. He told me to go, and I did.”
She moved into him, winding her arms around his shoulders and tucking her head under his chin. He curled over her, wrapping her close, like it was second nature to him.
They’d both quit last night. She squeezed him.
“What about the Roses?” she whispered into his shoulder. “Are they performing tonight?”
She felt him nod. “He said—he said that Xander Thorne was a brand that he owned. It wasn’t mine. He could get another Xander Thorne. You were right.”
Her chest constricted. She turned up to his face, and his eyes were wet and his lips trembling.
“Does he really think he can replace you in twenty-four hours?” she asked.
“He always said he could. He— It wasn’t the first time he’d told me that Forrest was ready to go. That he had all the cello parts down.”
Forrest. The guy who had been let go from the band in the beginning. Gwen shook her head. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want it anymore, Gwen. I just…” He reached up and pushed her hair over her ear. “I just want to be near you.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she kissed him. His arms crushed her to him, lifting her to her toes. She whimpered against his lips as the tears fell, and her fingers curled into his hair.
“I miss you.” She pressed herself into him, and he kissed her again.
A hand cradled her jaw. “I’m not going anywhere ever again. Not without you.”
He pulled her up around his waist, and she locked her legs behind his back. He kissed her the entire way into her bedroom, but when he laid them down on her small bed, he said, “You’re moving in. I can’t stand this.”
She laughed and tugged off his jacket. “Can you even afford that apartment anymore?”
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll both play in the subway for tips.”
Smiling, she wrapped herself around him and flipped them over. She sat on his hips and pulled her shirt off, shimmying out of her pajama pants. He groaned her name against her mouth as she started unbuckling him.
His hands were everywhere, tracing their favorite pathways and curving over her angles. She tugged off his jeans and ground her hips down on his cock, teasing him and working herself up. He stared up at her, letting his gaze trail over her chest and stomach.
“Why were you crying?” he breathed. “During the song.”
She licked her lips. “I was thinking of you. And how much I still love you.”
He sat up, pulling her face to his as she sat in his lap. “I love you.”
Dragging him to her, and pushing their chests together, she sighed into his mouth and allowed him to roll them until he was over her. He kissed his way down her chest, sucking softly at her breasts and continuing lower and lower until his hands pressed her knees open.
He whispered apologies into her skin, pressing kisses to her thighs while asking to be forgiven. His tongue dragged through her, long, broad strokes over and over, and she knew she had to tell him somehow that he didn’t need to savor her. She was right here.
Holding her open with his fingers, his tongue was relentless, dipping into her and teasing her entrance. She groaned, fisting his hair, and he simply pushed her thighs down against the cushions, spreading her open. His tongue tested her limits with how close he could push her to the edge before falling over.
He sucked her clit between his lips, and she yelled for him until he increased the pressure and pushed two fingers inside of her. Her back bowed, her fingers dragging across the fabric, and when she’d finished and slumped into the mattress, he continued pumping his fingers into her until she twisted and writhed beneath him.
He was heavy on her as he crawled up her body, like he wasn’t going to let her go anywhere. He filled her in a slow thrust, and Gwen felt her body singing again, like it had suddenly remembered the melody. Clutching her knee to his waist with one arm, he rolled his hips in an increasing pace, dragging his cock against her walls and watching her with a haunted gaze as her eyes rolled back and her nails scratched at his shoulders. He pumped into her and made her scream a third time, biting down on her neck as she clenched around his cock.
They whispered promises to each other, kissing away tears and swallowing apologies. He muttered I-love-yous into her shoulder as he came, and she returned the words every time.
Her fingertips ran down his back as he lay on top of her, catching his breath against her neck. One of his hands was wrapped up in her hair, and the other was curved around her waist.
“Will you come with me to Mabel’s this afternoon?” she whispered into the wintery morning silence.
“She hates me now,” Alex grumbled into her skin.
Gwen laughed. “I heard you were very rude, and arrogant, and always complained about something—”
“I’m sure all of it is true.”
She smiled and kissed his hair. “She told me you’d come looking for music for Nathan’s YouTube channel.” He nodded. “Did you play in the practice rooms when you were older? Like fifteen?”
“Sometimes. When I couldn’t stand Nathan. Or when I was in Jersey for the summer, I’d come over from my dad’s.”
A warmth filled her chest, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I think I heard you. I think you’re the reason I wanted to play violin.”
He looked up at her, his hair falling across his eyes. She expected him to be confused or astonished, but he just smiled at her and said, “You don’t remember?”
She felt her chest collapse. She stared at him.
“I almost trampled you coming out of the practice room one day. You asked me what I was playing, and I told you to fuck off.”
She gasped. “You did not. I would have remembered that!”
“It was something like that.” He pulled up to his elbows. “You were, like, ten or eleven.” He smiled down at her. “I realized during the New York Times interview that you were Mabel’s brat.”
Staring up at him and blinking quickly, she tried to find words for the absolute peace she felt. Like all the harmonies had clicked into place.
Mabel’s brat.
She loved that.
“Did you watch the video?” Alex asked.
She blinked. “Of the solo last night? No. I didn’t really want to relive it.”
“Can I show it to you?”
She laughed. “Alex, I was there—”
“But you didn’t see yourself.” He sat up. “Gwen. It was so emotive. You played with such passion. You have to watch it.”
She bit her lip and rolled her eyes. If he wanted to show her, she would watch.
He grabbed his phone and pulled up the post. He sat next to her on the bed, and they watched Gwen start to play the solo.
About halfway through she had closed her eyes, which she remembered. But as Gwen watched herself, she finally saw it—what everyone was talking about. When she started to cry and remember Alex, her body responded. She moved in the way she’d always needed to. As she watched the video and listened to the applause blare through Alex’s phone speakers, she wiped her eyes.
“I was thinking about how there’s no one to impress. I didn’t care what Nathan thought or anyone in Carnegie.” She looked at him. “I always assumed that was arrogance—that you were cocky for thinking that way. But really it’s like a subtle confidence. Like knowing you belong.” She brushed his hair away from his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. Xander is just that part of you that stopped trying to please anyone but yourself.”
Alex kissed her tears away, murmuring praise into her skin about how perfect she was and how they could do anything together. How unstoppable they were.
They eventually disentangled themselves, and Gwen started on the cookies as Alex took a shower. At nine a.m. the downstairs buzzer rang. Gwen frowned and went to buzz whoever in. The intercom didn’t work, and usually the door was propped open anyway. Maybe a neighbor had forgotten their keys?
When a knock sounded on her door, Gwen opened it hesitantly. Ava stood on her doormat, a little winded, holding Gwen’s violin case and a Tupperware container.
“Merry Christmas,” she greeted.
“Merry Christmas, Ava.” Gwen bit her lip. “I, um…I’m not going to reconsider—”
“No, no.” Ava shook her head. “That’s not why I’m here. I wanted to bring by your violin and to also make sure you had something for Christmas.” She lifted the container. “Cinnamon rolls. Homemade.”
Gwen smiled, but before she could thank her, she heard the bathroom door open. Alex stepped out in only a towel. She grimaced, unable to stop the car crash.
“Mom!” he squeaked, like a teenager caught. He clutched the towel to him.
Ava’s eyes brightened as she looked between the two of them. “Merry Christmas! I didn’t expect you here.”
“I…didn’t expect you here either.” Alex blushed from his chest to his ears. “Um, I’m just going to…get dressed…”
Gwen watched in horrified embarrassment as Alex scurried to her room to grab his clothes. She winced at Ava.
But Ava was grinning like a madwoman. “Is he just home for the day?”
“He’s…I’ll let him tell you. Would you like to come in for a bit?”
When Alex reemerged from the bedroom back in his clothes, he found Ava and Gwen sharing coffee at the small kitchen counter and heating up the cinnamon rolls.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he whispered into her cheek as Ava forced a hug on him.
“You guys talk,” Gwen said, squeezing his arm. “I’m going to shower.”
When she was towel-drying her hair, she heard them still talking, so she took her time with her makeup.
“That’s unacceptable,” Ava said, loudly enough for Gwen to hear. “That can’t be legally binding. Alex, have you had a lawyer look at this?”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ve accepted that I’m giving it up. I don’t want to fight for it anymore.”
“It’s not your position you need to fight for, it’s your share!”
“Mom,” Alex said softly. “I can’t…I’m too tired. Please.”
Gwen stared at her reflection, listening to the two of them. She hated eavesdroppers, but she couldn’t help but turn off the bathroom fan when she heard Ava begin to speak again.
“I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me. So many times I felt like I wanted to quit violin and just be someone simple. So when you dropped out of school, I thought it made sense, and that I should give you time. But you never wanted simple. You were always working toward the next thing. And I lost you while you moved on.”
Gwen listened to Alex take a deep breath.
“I felt like…” He cleared his throat. “I used to feel like you chose Nathan over me. And that what he told me to do was what you wanted.”
“No.” Ava shushed him. “No. For that I am truly sorry.”
Gwen listened to the silence and decided that it was time she stop pretending to do her makeup. She swiped some Hazel Renee lipstick on and stepped out of the bathroom.
Ava wiped her eyes and offered Gwen a plate with a cinnamon roll on it.
“If you don’t have anything planned for dinner,” Ava began, “I have a reservation you both could join.”
Gwen bit her lip. “I don’t really feel like dealing with Nathan right now…”
“He’s actually…” Ava hesitated, and Alex’s mug froze on its way to his lips. “He’s been on the phone all morning.” She picked at her cinnamon roll. “Speaking to the Berlin Philharmonic. They made him an offer a few weeks ago, and now he’s thinking about it. Between that and the stunt with Lorenz, I told him he was disinvited.”
Gwen felt a sinking in her stomach. If the Pops lost Xander Thorne, Gwen Jackson, and Nathan Andrews, what would they have left?
Ava took her hand quickly. “Don’t worry about the Pops, Gwen. You don’t need to carry their burden on your shoulders. Neither of us do. The board will figure something out. That’s why there is a board. I’m very proud of you. You made the right decision last night.” She turned her eyes on her son and said quietly, “You both did.”
Alex was silent, but Gwen could sense no tension in his body language. Ava cleared her throat.
“And, Gwen, I’m sorry for how far I let Nathan go. I never should have let him push to keep using your relationship for ticket sales. He…” She glanced at her son. “He has a bad habit of taking too much from sensitive situations and vulnerable people. And I had no idea about him calling Lorenz.”
Alex uncrossed his arms, and Gwen rubbed a hand between his shoulders.
Turning back to Gwen, Ava said, “So. Dinner at five?”
Gwen had a sudden idea. “Well, Alex and I already have plans for dinner, but would you like to join us?”