Page 65 of Licks

“Isn’t she the one who slept with your brother?” A shaft of sunlight cut through the leaves, slashing across Jimmy’s tattooed arms.

I appreciated his candor. It was why I’d blurted our sordid history when we’d met for drinks. No point pretending that shit show hadn’t happened. But this was worse than Gwen drowning her sorrows in Finch, and Finch using her to get to me.

This was unforgivable.

“What Gwen did sucked, but it was years ago. We’ve changed since then. We’ve talked it out, and I’ve forgiven her. The real kind of forgiveness, like I know I can really let it go.”

“So you guys had a good night together?”

My queasiness persisted. That didn’t keep me from smiling. “We had a great night. Most of it, at least.” The frantic sex on her living room floor. The frantic sex on a patch of dirt in the middle of the night. Talking to her until we both fell asleep, her warm body tucked into mine. A great fucking night. “Unfortunately, this is about a letter I got from her mother before Mary passed away. Something I haven’t told Gwen.”

One big, massive thing.

Owen squinted at me through the sun. “Lay it on us. We’ve both been through rough times with Ainsley and Rachel. We know what it’s like to screw up and almost lose the one. Assuming that’s how you feel about Gwen.”

The ebbing of my adrenaline had me dizzy. Or maybe it was thoughts of Gwen. “She’s it for me. She’s freaking out because I go back to Germany tomorrow. I’m losing it, too. Hate the idea of being apart for a second.” Even now, my senses felt dulled. The way a shorted guitar pickup deadened the ringing notes. Without her, everything was muted and worries invaded my mind. Was she talking to the girls, telling them she couldn’t keep seeing me? Talking herself out of us?

Fresh sweat beaded. The cold, clammy kind. “I’m not willing to lose her, but I did something stupid. If she finds out, she’ll probably cut me off.”

“You’d be preaching to the choir,” Owen said. “I mean, Jimmy screwed up way worse than me. Not even sure Rachel should have forgiven him.”

Jimmy kicked Owen’s shin. “Asshole.”

“She’s way out of your league.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. And I’ll warn you upfront,” Jimmy told me, “Ainsley gets scarier when you hurt her friends. I’d hire a bodyguard.”

An adoring grin swept across Owen’s face. “Love my girl.”

And I loved mine. A smack-down, hook-line-and-sinker, irreversible love. She didn’t want to hear it, though, had asked me to keep things light. Our blasted seconds—my stupid suggestion when I’d been high from making love to her our first time.

It didn’t change how I felt. Or what I did. “If Ainsley finds out what I’ve kept from Gwen, I might have to join the Witness Protection Program.”

Jimmy yanked grass from the ground and peeled the blades. “Sit down, already. Your pacing’s making me nervous.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been on the move. I couldn’t run from what I’d done or play it away in a song. I sat in a sunny spot, hoping the heat would ease the chill slipping down my spine. “You guys know how Gwen never knew her father?” They nodded, and I forged on. “Gwen’s mother sent me a letter a month before she died, two months ago now. In it, she wrote Gwen’s father’s name. For some reason she wanted me to tell Gwen, asked me to be there for her when she found him.”

I didn’t mention Mary’s subtle reminder to recall our conversation on Gwen’s nineteenth birthday. Gwen loves you. Don’t let her push you away. I wasn’t sure it was in my control anymore.

Owen sat up slightly, leaned on his forearms. “But Gwen said you guys were going to look for him, like she didn’t know who he was.”

“Gwen doesn’t know about the letter.”

Both guys winced. Jimmy opened his mouth, probably to tell me I was a jackass.

I talked over him. “My past with Gwen was intense for me, and getting that letter brought it all back. I didn’t think I could handle facing her. I was away, touring. Figured twenty-eight years had gone by, what difference would another month or two make? Then her mother died. I missed the funeral. Made some excuses to myself about concerts I’d booked, but I was dazed at that point, unsure I could deal with seeing Gwen, facing everything that had been stirred up.”

“Why not tell her now?” Jimmy quit peeling grass. He had an intensity about him, like at the bar last night, when he’d asked me to leave if I’d shown up to provoke Gwen. “Why search out a man when you already know his name?”

However things unfolded with Gwen and me—if we wound up together but I was away, or if she cut me from her life—I was happy she had her girlfriends and these guys. People who supported her.

Hopefully they knew her well enough to tell me the smart thing to do. “I decided to look him up before telling Gwen, to make sure he wasn’t some deadbeat who’d hurt her or use her for cash. I realized I couldn’t keep stalling and booked a flight a week ago. I found the man’s house, knocked on the door. And…”

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes until they burned. “I found out he had a heart attack. The week prior. I sat on that information for seven weeks. If I told Gwen right away, like her mother had asked, she’d have had seven weeks to get to know the man, ask all the questions she’s built up. You have no idea how big of a gap that’s been in her life. We used to spend days searching for him as kids, hours on the internet. I knew it was massive for her, and I waited because I was too big of a pussy to face her, and now she’ll never meet her father.”

“Jesus.” The intensity in Jimmy’s face turned contemplative. The idiot smirked. “That’s way worse than my fuck-up with Rachel.”

“And that’s supposed to help me how?” I picked at my calluses.