Breathing Wisteria Page 10

  “Wyatt!” More banging. “Wyatt! I just fought my way through a pack of swarming vultures to get in here, so open the motherloving door!”

  Flynn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pink?”

  “Cassidy.” I giggle. “But, yes.” I begrudgingly climb out from under him, looking for my clothes.

  “Get dressed. She already thinks you have a giant dick, we don’t need to confirm her suspicions.”

  He laughs loudly, and I relish the sound.

  “Wyatt? Is someone in there with you?” Cass starts up her banging again. “Is it the rock star Romeo? Let me in, Red!”

  Throwing on my yoga pants and tank top, sans bra and panties, I rush out of the room, closing the door behind me.

  “I’m coming! Jesus Christ, Cass, calm yourself.”

  As soon as I open the door, she pulls me to her, wrapping me up in a giant bear hug.

  “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to track down my mom so she could take the kids.”

  She breaks the hug and pulls back. Her hands are holding mine and she looks at me with an assessing gaze.

  “You look okay.” I’m slightly put out that she sounds disappointed.

  “I am okay. Now, why are you here?”

  “Layla called me.” She pushes past me and dumps her purse on the kitchen counter. “Why did it take you so long to answer the door?” She narrows her eyes at me.

  “I was in bed.” I cross my hands over my chest defensively.

  “Bed? At”—her eyes shoot to the clock—“four in the afternoon?”

  “I was tired. Do you want a drink? I’m all out of vodka, maybe you could run to the store and grab some?” Perfect. I can get Flynn out of here while she’s doing that, and she never needs to know he was here.

  Wait, why am I trying to hide him? If we’re doing this, she’s going to find out. Ugh, why am I so bad at this.

  “I thought I heard a man laughing.” Yep, there’s that single-eyebrow-quirking thing. “And, no, I don’t want a drink. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Of course, she is.” Flynn comes sauntering out of my room, looking all sex-disheveled and wearing a smirk. “How else can she sneak me out?”

  “Ah.” Cassidy’s eyes light up. “It was Romeo. Nice to see you again.”

  “Romeo? Can I object to that nickname? It’s really not working for me.”

  “Nope, it’s pretty much set in stone now.”

  My eyes bounce between the two as they banter easily with each other.

  “Then I guess I’m sticking with Pink for you.” He shrugs carelessly.

  “No.” Cassidy is adamant.

  “I call her Red.” She nods to me. “So, you see, the whole hair-color-nickname thing is already played out.”

  “No.” Flynn is equally adamant. “She’s Cherry.” He pulls me to him so my back is resting against his front, and I try to figure out what the ever-loving hell is going on here.

  “Well, isn’t this just a giant nickname clusterfuck,” I state, incredulously. “How about we just stick to Flynn, Cassidy, and Wyatt, hmm?”

  “How about we don’t be such a Debbie Downer, hmmm?” she retorts before grabbing Flynn’s hand and dragging him out from behind me.

  “Come, Romeo. We have much to discuss.”

  “So, you’ll move then?”

  “Yeah, I’ve already started looking at places. But it depends if she wants to move. Otherwise, we’ll just stay here.”

  “Oh, she’ll move. She’s been talking about finding somewhere bigger for the last two years.”

  I sit on the armchair, legs crossed and nursing a warm-ish cup of coffee, feeling like I’m in some kind of weird alternative universe.

  Cassidy and Flynn sit on opposite ends of the sofa, their bodies turned toward each other as they discuss the future of our relationship, apparently.

  “I’m right here, you know.” I wish I could tell you it didn’t come out as petulantly as it sounded, but that would be a lie.

  “Yes,” Cassidy begins as if she’s talking to her three-year-old twins. “But, as it turns out, you are notoriously bad at making good life choices, so Aunty Cass is here to help.” She places a hand over her heart. “Out of love.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

  Flynn watches us with amused eyes before they dim suddenly. “She’s a lot more eager to talk about our future than you are.”

  My heart does a little dive at the unabashed sadness on his face.

  “I have a lot to make up for, but I want to start. Right fucking now, but you have to be prepared to let me.” He sighs. “As much as I want to just tell you what’s going to happen, we both know that wouldn’t fly. So, you gonna do this with me?”

  I consider what he’s said. It’s going to be hard. We both have so much guilt over Carys, even if, on my good days, I know that no one is to blame. That’s going to challenge our relationship.

  His life gets played out on the public stage and there’s nothing that can prepare me for how hard that is going to be. That will definitely challenge us.

  We’re going to have to change the vision for our future. Because the future we saw when we took our vows all those years ago, is most likely never going to happen. No matter what he thinks, that will be a challenge.

  If we choose to do this, there will be an inordinate amount of difficult times ahead of us.

  But, despite all of that, I know that I haven’t felt this alive since the day I walked out on him ten years ago. It feels good to feel again, and I know that we are up to every challenge we’ll face. As long as we face them together.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “We’re going to do it.”

  A slow, lazy grin makes its way across his face and my heart falters slightly at the sight.

  He abruptly stands, his coffee cup falling to the side and the mocha liquid splashing all over the feather-gray fabric. In two short strides, he is standing in front of me, then pulling me up so that my body is flush against his.

  “Fuck, yeah, we are.” Then his mouth finds mine in a kiss that is as overwhelming as it is perfect.

  “You guu-uys!” We’re ripped from our moment by the sight of Cassidy gazing at us, her hands clutched in front of her heart and a wide grin on her face. “So, when are we going house hunting?”

  Flynn

  “Jesus Christ, why am I doing this again?” My muscles are straining under the weight of a huge handcrafted dresser that we are carrying through the lobby.

  Said lobby being in the multimillion-dollar luxury building where our new home resides. Also, the lobby that currently has about ten residents watching us in disbelief, as if they have never seen someone actually move their own furniture.

  “Because you love me,” Wyatt calls from behind with a carefree laugh.

  “I love you enough to hire the very best movers,” I grit out. “So, that doesn’t explain shit.”

  “You know I couldn’t trust my grandma’s dresser with movers,” she chastises.

  “Stop complaining like a little bitch, Romeo.”

  Yeah, so apparently Cassidy is a permanent fixture in my life now.

  Can you say lucky?

  “You know, Crazy, you’re more than welcome to get your ass over here and help.”

  I look up and make eye contact with Mason, Cassidy’s husband. The man has balls of steel, which is a good thing because he needs them to be married to her.

  “Nobody asked you, Sunshine, but thanks for contributing.” She blows him a kiss and he shakes his head in amusement. “Now, will you two hurry up, I ordered a pizza and it would be just awesome if you could have this set up before it gets here.”

  Wyatt rushes past and places a kiss on my jaw. “I’ll make this up to you tonight, I promise.”

  We spend the next twenty minutes navigating this ridiculously huge piece of furniture through the lobby and up the service elevator.

  “Right, where do you want it?” Mason and I are standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
There really is only a few places it could go, so I’m expecting a quick response. Instead my question is met with first silence, and then some muttered umms and aahs.

  “Mason?” I look at the equally frustrated man opposite me. “You want a beer?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  We drop the dresser right where we’re standing and make our way to the kitchen, leaving the outraged cries of the girls behind us.

  I stand in front of the giant SubZero refrigerator that is far too big for just Wyatt and me, and pull out a couple of beers, handing one to Mason. “Hey, man, thanks for the tip on this place.” I lean against the granite counter. “We were having trouble finding somewhere, so it was a godsend.”

  He nods his head in acknowledgment and rubs a hand across his jaw. “Yeah, it can be a bitch to find something decent, especially here. I’m dreading having to start looking for somewhere new.”

  “You guys are moving?”

  “We’re thinking about it. There’s a culinary school in Paris that Cassidy would love to go to and we figure it would be great for the kids, so we’ll see.”

  “What?”

  Mason and I look over to see Wyatt and Cassidy standing on the step leading up to the raised kitchen. Wyatt looks horrified and Cassidy looks ready to kill.

  “You’re moving to Paris?” Wyatt turns to Cassidy, eyes wide.

  “No.” She scoffs and strides determinedly toward Mason. “I am going to kill you,” she whispers loudly.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell us that?” Wyatt follows her and takes a spot beside me. Leaning into me, her hand settles on my stomach, a little too close to the waistband of my jeans for my comfort.

  “There’s nothing to tell, it’s just something we were talking about.” She waves us off. “Like, wouldn’t it be great if unicorns were real or wouldn’t it be awesome if I could have multiple orgasms every time. It’s nice to think about, but it’s never going to actually happen.”

  “It could happen, though, if you weren’t such a stubborn ass,” Mason insists, taking a long pull of his beer.

  “Not getting multiple orgasms has nothing to do with my ass, Sunshine.”

  “Cass,” Wyatt interjects and thank fuck for that. “That sounds like an incredible opportunity, why wouldn’t you do it? I mean it would suck for us, we would miss you so much, but think about everything you could learn over there.”

  Cassidy pushes away from the counter and heads to the refrigerator.

  “I’m not saying it will never happen, just not right now.” She opens the door and examines the empty shelves, before turning to me with a quirked brow. “You know, considering you’re a millionaire rock star I would have thought you’d have something to feed your guests.”

  Mason folds his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed.

  “Now is the perfect time to do this. The kids are young, we have enough in savings to live over there for a few years and if worse came to worst, I can pick up some freelance consulting work if I need to,” he argues. “You’re making excuses, Crazy.”

  She slams the door shut and Wyatt and I exchange an awkward look. Watching our friends have a knockdown, drag-out fight isn’t the way I saw this night ending.

  “Really? You really want to give up your job at the Youth Center and go back to corporate work? That’s what you want?” she challenges.

  “It might not even be necessary, but if I had to, I would. It wouldn’t be forever, and the benefits would far outweigh the negatives.”

  “Ugh, would you stop being so damn logical, it’s annoying as fuck.”

  Wyatt moves away from me and wraps Cassidy in a hug, whispering something in her ear. She rolls her eyes in response but pulls Wyatt to her tightly.

  “We’ll talk about it at home,” she tells Mason over Wyatt’s shoulder. “I promise.”

  The moment is interrupted by the buzz of the concierge phone by the front door and I move for it, eager to make an escape from the tension in the room. Probably an asshole move to leave it for Wyatt to deal with, but let’s face it, out of the two of us she’s the most likely to actually help.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Maguire. This is Eleanor from concierge. I’m sorry to bother you but you have a pizza delivery here for you and they are refusing to leave the order with me.”

  “No problem, I’ll be right down.”

  Three minutes later I walk into the lobby and find myself coming to a complete standstill when I see who is waiting there holding our pizza.

  Giselle fucking Cross.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Giselle?”

  My tone catches the attention of the concierge, who looks between Giselle and me nervously.

  “Is everything okay, Mr. Maguire?”

  “Everything is fine, Eleanor,” Giselle soothes. “We’re old friends, isn’t that right, Flynn?”

  She’s looking at me calculatingly, counting on me not wanting to make a scene, and she knows she has me because the last thing I want is for Wyatt to find out she is here.

  “Walk with me.” She saunters off toward the lounge area that is set up discreetly in the back corner of the lobby.

  I follow uneasily, kneading an anxious palm over my neck, and watch her take a seat as though she doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Here.” She thrusts the pizza at me. “I had to call in a big favor to make this meeting happen.”

  “Are you expecting a thank-you because you, what? Bribed some dumb-ass pizza delivery kid? Every delivery kid in the city?” I shake my head. “You’re fucking delusional.”

  “Not a thank-you, no. Just want you to know how dedicated I am, I guess. So.” She throws me a sly grin. “A wife, huh?”

  “Yep,” I bite out, turning away, determined not to give her anything she can use.

  “You know, I still remember the first time I saw you on stage. You were hot as fuck, pissed at the world and had sex written all over you. That night was…” She trails off, the silence hanging in the air until I finally look at her. “I guess that makes you a cheater, doesn’t it?”

  My head snaps back as though I was punched, and I feel like my veins are on fire as I try to control the anger suddenly pummeling me.

  “We were separated. Now if this trip down memory lane is finished, I have—”

  “I helped kickstart your career, you owe me, Flynn. I’ve given you time, I knew you were going through something. That something significant had happened to you and you were trying to work your way through it. I gave you time to do that.” Her eyes narrow with a vicious glint. “And now, after I’ve waited so patiently for you, you have a fucking wife?” Her voice rises, a slight note of hysteria creeping in.

  I sit back and look at her dispassionately, remembering that first night we met. Recalling how her formal elegance, her almost icy beauty, was so disparate to the skeevy bar I was playing in. How everything about her seemed to be in such contrast to Wyatt’s carefree joy. How I thought maybe, maybe, this was exactly what I needed to get over her.

  I also remember waking up the next morning, my judgment no longer clouded by cheap whiskey and expansive grief, sneaking out and never giving it a second thought.

  “I probably never would have found out about her if you hadn’t been so careless when you came to see her, you know.” She shakes her head, her voice accusing.

  “I wasn’t trying to hide her.”

  “You probably should have.” She stands, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from her cashmere sweater. Lifting her eyes, she pins me with a look of contempt. “She’s going to hate you by the time I’m done with you.”

  Wyatt

  “I can’t believe I’m in the green room of The Tonight Show!” I whisper, practically giddy, but doing my best to hide it. Meanwhile, Flynn sits casually beside me, as though none of this is a big deal. Which, I guess to him, it isn’t.

  “I love Thomas Carlson so freaking much, I just want to cuddle him.”

  Flynn’s mouth lifts in a smal
l smirk, one of the few smiles I have seen today. He’s been in a weird mood since last night and I’m not really sure what is going on.

  “Should I be worried you’re about to run off with the Englishman?”

  I snort out a laugh. “No, I’m much more into bossy, Irishmen, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I lean back into the buttery leather cushions of the sofa and watch everything that’s going on around me. There are multiple television screens scattered throughout the large room, all secured to walls, so that wherever you are, you can see the show that is currently being filmed. Thomas is interviewing the actor Tucker Royal, and I sigh a dreamy little sigh as I watch the blond Adonis talk about his upcoming movie release.

  “The guy’s an asshole, you know.” Flynn’s amused voice draws my attention back to him.

  “Meh, but he’s a pretty asshole, so he can be forgiven.” I laugh with a shrug.

  I take hold of Flynn’s arm and pull it across my body until my hand finds his and I thread our fingers together.

  The room is loud, the guys in his band are congregated around the table, eating their way through the incredible spread that was out. I swear to God, I had the most amazing doughnut I have ever had in my life and I was ready to cut a bitch to find out where I could get my hands on more.

  Luckily, it didn’t come to that and a very helpful assistant gave me the address, as well as the hot tip that their maple bacon doughnuts are to die for.

  Now, this is the type of celebrity perk I could get used to.

  I give Flynn’s hand a gentle squeeze, relishing the feel of his calloused skin.

  “Hey, you okay?” I whisper in his ear, enjoying the slight shiver I note as my breath tickles the spot just below his ear. “You’ve been quiet.”

  He pulls our joined hands to his mouth and his deliciously full lips place the softest kiss on my knuckles.

  “I’m fine. He’s going to ask about us, you know.” He tilts his head toward the screen where Thomas Carlson is delivering a punchline. “He’s going to want all the details and I normally give a standard ‘no comment.’”