We’d then spent the rest of the night talking to Natalie, Beau and the band, and then we made our way over to Julia and Carter’s. Julia had bawled her eyes out when we’d told her we were together and were having a baby. She then dropped the bomb that she, too, was expecting again. Their second baby and our first were due within a week of each other. Calia was going to be a big sister and a cousin.
“Johnny,” Bex said. She sounded serious.
“Bex,” I said, teasing.
She rolled out of my bed and walked to the wall where she’d left my Gibson all those weeks ago. Picking it up, she brought it back to the bed and sat cross-legged in front of me.
“Are you going to play for me?” God I loved when she played just for me. It made me want her in so many ways.
She shook her head. “No. You’re going to play for me. And our baby. He or she needs to hear both of us.”
Tightness strangled the breath from my lungs. I shook my head, fighting the panic.
“Johnny,” she said, softer now. “You can do this. I’m right here with you. I love you, and you love me. There’s nothing holding you back anymore. All of your reasons for not playing are gone. You’re free, we’re both safe, and we’re starting a life together. I want you to play with me, Johnny. I need you to play with me.”
She needed me to play with her? “Why?”
She furrowed her brow. “Why what? Why do you I need you to play with me?” I nodded. “Because I need to feel that part of you, the part that makes you come alive. I know you, Johnny. I’d die without playing music. It’s been the only constant in my life. I know a whole part of you has been lying dormant for so many years. For you to fully heal and move on, for us to be able to do this, you need to realize that this is a big part of who you are.”
We sat in silence for a moment while I tried to calm my racing heart. She didn’t say anything else or force the guitar in my hands. She just . . . waited.
After a few minutes, Bex moved closer to me. She held out her hand to me, and I took it without hesitation. She reached our hands over and placed them on top of the guitar strings. The guitar was lying in her lap, calling to me. A feeling I couldn’t quite explain spread over me.
“That’s not so bad, is it?” Her voice was just above a whisper. After another moment she moved my fingers so that I was strumming the strings. I gasped at the feeling. It had been so long but felt like just yesterday all at the same time.
“I’m going to take my hand off,” she said. “Just touch it, okay?”
She removed her hand from mine. It was just a guitar. Why did I act like it was a poisonous snake ready to attack? Pick it up, I willed myself. We were sitting so close that our knees were touching, our bodies facing each other.
I reached over to her lap and picked up the Gibson that had been sitting mocking me for way too long. I ran my fingers along the smooth exterior. When I looked up, Bex was grinning.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said. “This is huge, Johnny. Huge.” She smiled. “Will you try to play?”
I looked down at my fingers, perfectly positioned on the strings like they’d never left. I thought about all of the songs that I’d written over the years, most of which I had memorized. I thought about Bex’s songs, the ones I watched her play. I knew all of those by heart, too.
I began strumming the chords, closing my eyes as I felt the reverberation of the notes all the way through my body. I let my mind go, letting go of all of the pent up anxiety and fear about allowing myself to feel this again. Who was I becoming? The man that years ago swore to never fall in love again and never play again was doing both of those things, right here in this room. Because of her.
Before I realized what I was playing, I heard Bex’s low voice joining in to the melody. I was playing her song, ‘Broken.’ I identified with a lot of things that she sang, but this one really encapsulated so much of my past. Just like that, the final piece of me came back together again. Bex had done so much for me. She knew just when to push and when to let things go. She knew me.
When I lifted my fingers at the end of the song, I opened my eyes and looked into hers.
“Wow,” she said. “That was amazing. You did it, Johnny.”
I nodded, my throat so closed off I couldn’t speak. I did it. I played again. And I loved every fucking second of it.
“Do you feel okay?”
“Like a fucking rock star,” I said gruffly. I leaned over and captured the back of her neck with my hand, pulling her to me. “Thank you,” I said against her lips.
“Thank you,” Bex said when I pulled my lips from hers. “For being willing to open that part of you back up again. For sharing it with me. I want to play with you every day for the rest of our lives.”
I got an idea, one that I couldn’t believe I was even entertaining. It had been mere hours ago that I didn’t even know whether I’d see her again or not, and now I was having a baby and we loved each other and I was playing again.
“I want to play you something,” I said. “I wrote it a long time ago, and I was going to give it to my sister and her husband for their wedding, but I couldn’t do it. I changed it a little since then.”
“You should play it for them,” she said.
I shook my head. “It’s not for them anymore. It’s perfect for you. I’ve never actually played it, though, so it might be rough.”
Bex settled herself on her knees, bouncing like a little girl on Christmas morning. “I can’t wait.”
Was I going to do this? Was she ready for this?
I began strumming the strings again, humming in my throat until I got the tune I wanted. “This is called . . . My Forever . . .”
Who knew if my voice would even hold out, it had been so many years. “To me, love has always hurt. To you, love was never enough. It was never in the cards, never in my heart. Until you. When I see you standing there, I can’t imagine life without you in it . . . I always swore I would never fall, but when I look at you I see . . . My Forever . . .”
My voice cracked and Bex moved to my side, stroking her hand through my hair and kissing my neck. But I wasn’t done. I had to get it out.
“Now I want what I thought I couldn’t have, didn’t deserve. I want you. I want us. I want the family we will have. I want my forever . . . I always swore I would never fall, but when I look at you I see . . . my forever . . . please be, my forever . . . say you’ll be my wife . . . forever . . .”
I stopped, turning my head slightly so I could see her reaction. She was sitting stock still, her eyes so wide I could see the different colors around her pupils.
“Are you . . . was that . . .” Bex moved the guitar and climbed into my lap, her eyes full of questions that she didn’t want to ask. “You’re so fucking talented, Johnny. I knew you would be.”
“Say yes,” I whispered, gripping her hips as I flexed against her core. “Be mine. For good. Be my wife, Bexley Bryant.”
She reached her hands down and lifted my shirt, throwing it behind us. She then followed suit with her own, leaning her head down and kissing me with abandon. I twined my tongue with hers, snaking my fingers up her small shorts and to her dripping wet center.
“Answer me,” I said into her mouth, rubbing my thumb right where she wanted it.
“Johnny,” she breathed into my mouth. Her eyes opened and she stared into my face, searching for the meaning behind my words. “Are you sure?”
“Never so fucking sure of anything in my life.” I pressed a kiss to my fingers and then touched her stomach where our baby was growing. “I don’t have a fucking ring . . .”
“I don’t care about that shit,” Bex said. “I’m no fucking girl.”