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Tommy immediately took charge. “Hello?” His grip tightened around me.
I knew it meant my mother was awake by the look on Tommy’s face as he listened to the caller, nodding and answering when he needed to. His fingers dug into my skin, but I didn’t feel it. Dread had begun to creep into my gut. I wasn’t sure I was prepared for this. That I wanted to handle it anymore. I was twenty years old. I had so much of my life ahead of me.
“Jesus, Blake. You look like you just saw a ghost.” Tommy stood up and carried me effortlessly to the living room. He placed me on the couch, climbed up next to me, and pushed my head down onto his lap. “Breathe for me. In, out, in, there you go.” His nails scraped over my scalp.
I stared up at him. “She’s asking for me.”
Tommy nodded. “I can go with you.”
“I’m not...” I took a long breath. “What if I don’t want to go? What if I don’t want to take care of her anymore, Tommy? I need to finally live my life.”
He gave me a small smile. “Then you don’t. You’re not a kid anymore. There’s no law that says you have to continue to take care of your mother while she drinks herself to death.”
“Does that make me a horrible person?” Tears spilled from my eyes, and I buried my head against his stomach.
Tommy shook his head. “You’re not. You’re human.”
“I should go. To at least talk to her.” I sat up fast and brushed the wetness from my cheeks. “I need...I want...Will you come with me, be my support system?” I reached for his hands.
Tommy squeezed tightly. “Always, Bug. You don’t ever have to ask.”
Chapter Thirty
Blake
It was the perfect day to get married in Canfield. Not too hot or too cold, no wind or rain. The sun was warm and bright without a hint of a cloud in the sky. All of Maverick and Jackson’s friends and family were sitting in the backyard as we waited for the groom to make his appearance. Jackson’s hockey teammates, Beau’s sister, Sam, who had shown up early to help Maverick with his hair, and friends of both grooms, Holt Walker and Watts Brooks, who lived in North Carolina. The photographer, Brooklyn, was the wife of NASCAR driver, Rand Shepard, and even though we had met a few times, he was more than intimidating with his tattoos and height. But he had always been kind and a little obsessed with his wife and children.
Dean might have been the best man, but that didn’t leave us out of the wedding party. Killian, Matthias, and I were the groomsman, Mav making sure to include all his band members and friends for his special day. I was so thankful that we were all friends again. That we were going to be able to continue doing what we loved, together. I wouldn’t want to be with any other musicians. These three men weren’t just my friends, they were my brothers.
I caught Tommy’s eye as he spoke quietly with Wyatt Murray, one of Jackson’s teammates, and a groomsman. He smiled at me, then winked, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread over my face. I knew Tommy had been nervous about standing in front of all these wedding guests with his scar on full display. I had reminded him that everyone would be paying more attention to the two grooms, and then I kissed his face, making sure to give extra attention to what he was most afraid of.
I didn’t hate his scar. I loved it because it was part of Tommy. And I had always loved everything about him.
When the upbeat music that had been playing changed to the wedding march, I was sure that everyone heard the gasp Jackson released when he caught sight of Maverick as he stepped into the backyard. The love that sparkled in Jackson’s brown orbs, the same look that his soon-to-be-husband gave him right back, had me searching for Tommy again.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I chanted those words in my head hoping he could feel how much I meant them. The wink he shot me told me he did.
I had to admit, Maverick looked fantastic. He wore all white, but it was the lacey shirt, tucked into a pair of white slacks that drew the most attention. Not the crown nestled into his snow-colored hair or the small bouquet of white roses he carried in his hands. Maverick never dressed in anything other than layered shirts and blue jeans, but this outfit gave everyone a chance to see who he really was. Corded muscles wrapped around his biceps, showing off his lean, taut frame.
Jackson didn’t say anything, his dark eyes wide as he stared at Maverick and reached for his hand to lace their fingers together.
Pink dotted Maverick’s cheeks as he ducked his chin. “You’re staring,” he whispered.
“I have a right to stare at what’s mine, sweetheart. You’re beautiful,” Jackson told him, and Maverick’s cheeks darkened even more. Then he beamed happily and giggled.
Maverick hummed. “Thank you, Goose.” His voice caught in this throat. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mavs.”
Dean, whose green hair was piled on his head in a tight bun with white flowers wrapped around it, sighed softly, and I caught the way Beau was watching him as he stood up for Jackson. Maybe they’d end up just like this, a small wedding in our hometown then maybe something bigger, an event fit for two huge celebrities. Either way, I was rooting for all the good things to happen between the two of them. Dean deserved that.
A soft sniffle had me looking to my right to find Killian wiping his eyes.
“Are you crying?”
“As if.” He grunted. But there were tears in his blue eyes. “Whatever. Fuck off.”
I snorted and then grimaced. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. This day was all about Maverick and Jackson. “It’s okay to feel, Kill.”
