Everything I Can Never Have (Age & Innocence Book 2) Read online

  Aaron: It’s just past that big hotel on Sydney Rd, in Brunswick. The fun starts at eight.

  Aaron: You better be still coming, man. Sofie can’t wait to see you.

  I sigh, rubbing a hand over my scruffy face and hating my friend for the emotional blackmail. I was two seconds away from texting him back with an excuse and an apology for not making it, but now I feel like I have to go.

  Me: I’m on my way.

  “We’re here.”

  Grimacing, I force my eyes open as the taxi driver pulls up outside the bar. My head pounds like a motherfucker and I sigh, wishing I’d had the foresight to down a few painkillers before leaving the hotel.

  “Here,” I mutter, tossing him enough cash to cover the fare.

  I stumble out of the car, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as I gaze up at the faded, purple façade of the building until it hits me where I am. Traction, the same bar that I played my last live gig at before I settled down into a respectable life and tried to make it as a husband and father. I guess it’s as good a place as any to bookmark that spectacular failure, too, since irony and destiny travel everywhere together.

  Hunched over and hands shoved deep into my pockets, the cool breeze blows against my neck as I take a moment outside the bar to gather my composure. Crowds of people walk past me, laughing and chattering amongst themselves as they head out to enjoy what can only be described as another perfect November evening. I fucking hate it. Seeing people so happy and having fun makes me want to go back to my pity party at the hotel, but instead, I force myself to walk inside. Who knows? Maybe the night will surprise me.

  Thankfully, the lights are low inside. I laugh bitterly to myself as I take in the venue, the high tables and little stage tucked into the back corner. Everything looks different to how I remember it, but at the same time, it feels so familiar. The stage looks like it’s no longer used, which is a damn shame, because this used to be the place for live music in Melbourne. I’ve been here less than five minutes and I already know whoever owns this place is doing a shit job managing it. The location alone should make this place a smashing success, but it’s Friday night and barely at half-capacity. The biggest disappointment is the crowd this place is attracting. There are more teenagers than I’ve ever seen in my life gathered around the bar and tables, interspersed with the few parents who are either Aaron’s friends or too paranoid to let their eighteen-year-olds just go out on their own, unchaperoned—even if they are legally old enough to drink.

  This isn’t my scene. It’s not a fun place for me to be. All these kids, barely legal and laughing their lives away, the same age as my son would have been if he were still here. Looking at them just makes my chest hurt and my jaw ache. I want nothing more than to retreat into my shell, but I made a promise to show my face and that’s what I’m going to do.

  I don’t try to seek out Aaron, knowing he’d try and introduce me to everyone. The last thing I feel like being is social. No one here knows me because everyone my age or close to it are friends of Aaron’s. My entire social circle except for Aaron pretty much began and ended with Maria. I gave up everything for her—my band, my dreams, my friends. Only Aaron passed her upright morality test.

  Sitting down at a little table in the corner of the room, I nurse the vodka and tonic that I ordered off a passing waitress, trying to pretend I’m having a decent enough time. I’m sure that Aaron will find me, eventually. Or he won’t. Either way, at least I can say that I made the effort to show up. My cheeks hurt from the forced smile I have fixated on my lips when I finally see my friend. He waves at me and wanders over.

  “Glad you made it.”

  “Said I would,” I reply.

  “You look better.”

  “It’s amazing what a shower and a fresh change of clothes can do.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Thanks for the warning that the party was here, by the way.”

  “I didn’t realise it was that big a deal.” Aaron shakes his head and laughs. “I know it’s not exactly like the old days, but Sofie wanted it here.”

  He turns around to gaze out over the sea of barely legal children gathered around the tables. The low roar of conversation is deafening, and I can barely hear the shitty modern pop they’re playing over the speakers.

  “Not exactly like the old days,” I mutter. “This place is a shithole. I’ve never seen so many teenagers in my life.”

  “Yeah, well, we were their age once,” Aaron reminds me. “Maybe they’ll be right where we are in twenty years.”

  I snort. “God help them if that’s true.”

  Aaron mumbles a reply, but he’s distracted as he looks through the crowd. He doesn’t sound like he’s really listening to me anymore, but that’s fine. I used to thrive under attention, the cheers of a crowd no matter how large, the sweltering heat of a spotlight. That part of me feels like it died too. These days, most of me feels faded, like I’m living a half-life as someone just a little too stubborn to die. The problem is, my damn liver works too well. Probably because I haven’t abused it like this in ages. Even at the rate I’ve been drinking over the last couple of weeks, it’ll take a while to give out.

  “Sofie! Oh my God, look at you! Happy birthday!”

  That voice…

  God, I’d recognise that fucking voice anywhere. My fingers go white around my glass, every inch of me tensing up at once so it feels like a full-body cramp. I’d recognise that fucking voice anywhere. I look over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing as I see Maria embracing Sofie, smiling widely as though nothing is wrong.

  “Zave,” Aaron says lowly. “I swear, I didn’t know she was coming.”

  “I should go,” I mutter.

  I don’t think she’s seen me yet, but if she finds Aaron in the crowd, or Sofie brings her over, then it’s only a matter of time. I finish my drink in two large gulps, the liquid burning going down.

  “No,” Aaron says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Please, stay.”

  His voice and eyes are earnest, but I know I can’t stay in a room with her. I won’t be able to control my temper a second time, and this time I’ve been drinking, so it’s going to be a lot worse if she causes a scene.

  “Aaron—”

  “For Sofie’s sake,” Aaron continues, squeezing my shoulder.

  I sigh. Sofie. It still hasn’t quite hit me that she’s eighteen.

  Seeing her is painful because everyone her age reminds me of Dylan. They were close before he died, the best of friends. Back then, Sofie was like a daughter to me, but I pushed her away after Dylan died, just like I did everyone else.

  Seeing her tonight, dressed in a gorgeous sparkly grey dress and looking like the spitting image of her mother, makes me realise how much I’ve missed out on. Sure, I’d seen her a lot over the years. I’d been a regular fixture at their house, but I’d been so caught up in my own head, I feel like I haven’t really taken much notice of her until tonight. She’s changed so much. She’s grown from the shy best friend of my son into a gorgeous woman in her own right.

  It makes me wonder… how much would Dylan have changed?

  He looked like me—my eyes, my hair and my shit-eating grin, right up until the day he died. Even in the moments before his death, he was happy. That kid loved nothing more than making people smile, and every day, I wondered what I’d done to deserve such an amazing kid.

  Now I wonder what I did wrong for him to be taken away.

  “Zave?”

  Aaron’s voice drags me from my thoughts. I look away, embarrassed, because I’ve been staring right at Sofie. Thank fuck Maria is no longer with her. My body tenses as I scan the room for her, relaxing when I don’t see her. With any luck, she saw some sense and went the fuck home.

  “Fine, I’ll stay,” I promise, easing Aaron’s worried look. I glance back at Sofie, who has wandered over to stand with her father, and offer her another smile. “Happy birthday, Sofie.”

  “Thanks. It’s good to see you, Zave.”

  Her eyes dart to her da
d and then back to me. I see the pity clouding her eyes and I know she knows. I shouldn’t be surprised. Aaron doesn’t keep anything from his kid. Not even my fucking mess of a life. I shift on my feet, feeling even more like I don’t want to be here. The last thing I need is Sofie feeling sorry for me.

  “I’ll be right back.” I force a smile. “I just need some air.”

  Ignoring the worried look in Aaron’s eyes, I set my empty glass down on the table, get up and walk off.

  Chapter 2

  Xavier

  The door to the courtyard is right where I remember it being, beside the main bar. I ignore the closed sign in big black letters and push it open. What are they going to do, throw me out? The door closes behind me with a heavy thud, taking most of the noise along with it. It’s almost unnervingly silent in comparison to the party raging on the inside.

  Stalking over to the outdoor bar, I lean over the counter and swipe a bottle of whiskey, then I make my way over to one of the wrought-iron tables and plant my ass on the edge. I study the bottle in my hand with a sigh. There are only a few mouthfuls left in it, but it’s enough to dull my thoughts. I take a sip, then lie back, grunting as the cold metal leeches through my clothes and settles the throb of the lingering hangover in my head.

  The starlit sky above me immediately puts me more at ease. I used to look up at the stars like this when I was writing a song. They were so distant, the world’s best audience, unable to judge me or praise me in equal measure. Between the pinpricks of light, I was free to follow my train of thought and hone my process into the final piece.

  For so long, I’ve hated the silence and craved the noise I knew would distract me from my thoughts, but over the last two weeks, the solitude is something I’ve grown used to again. It’s like going out into the sun after being trapped inside for months. As much as I’ve grown accustomed to it, I’m also sensitive to it, like I’m too raw to really enjoy it. God, it feels like such a long time since I simply sat in the silence and enjoyed my own thoughts.

  What the fuck happened to me?

  When I was Sofie’s age, I had the world at my feet. My friends and music were my life. I was the lead singer in a band and I was on the verge of making it big. I had huge plans for my life.

  And then I met Maria.

  We’d just finished a gig at a little bar a few streets away from here when I saw her. I’d noticed her in the crowd during our show and once we were alone, she wasn’t shy about letting me know she was into me. She was eighteen, sexy as fuck and more than willing to please me, so I thought, why the fuck not roll with it?

  The last thing I expected was to fall in love, but I did. I fell fast and hard. I even asked her to come on tour with us, and she agreed. Then she got pregnant. Her rich, conservative parents hated me before I knocked up their precious daughter, so when she told them she was pregnant, they were pissed. They gave me an ultimatum—marry Maria, or I’d never see my kid again.

  I tried to convince her we could do it alone, but she was scared at the thought of raising a baby without the help of her parents. I was young, in love, and Maria was like a song I never wanted to stop singing, so, of course, I agreed to marry her. I never regretted it for a second either. Not even when we lost our first baby at eight months, or with every miscarriage that followed over the next few years.

  It all felt worth it when we had Dylan.

  He was perfect. He was a part of me, a part of her, and I loved him so much. The first time he held my finger in his tiny hand, the surge of love I felt for him had been physically painful. Even when we couldn’t have more kids after another stillbirth a year later, it didn’t matter. We had Dylan, and he was enough. We were a family.

  Until we weren’t anymore.

  After the crash, I hadn’t felt much of anything. Counsellors and all kinds of well-meaning friends told me about the five stages of grief. Aaron, who’d lost his wife to cancer when Sofie was only five, was by my side constantly, ready for the inevitable breakdown. It didn’t come for what felt like months, and when it finally hit me, I couldn’t drag myself past the guilt.

  I had been the one driving.

  Maybe if I had braked a second sooner, or turned the car another few degrees, I’d have missed the truck and he’d still be alive. Even if I were dead, my son would still be alive. I couldn’t get over that. I pushed everyone away, buried myself in the work I fucking hated, and went out and drank away the rest of the waking hours for almost a year. Anything to numb the pain.

  But I hadn’t cheated.

  My fists clench tightly on my chest as I glare at the stars. They had always been a constant in my life, just like Maria had been, but they fade come sunrise and now she’s gone too. I pushed her too far away, withdrew into myself too deeply, and now I have nothing. I’ve lost more and more until there’s nothing but me and alcohol and those fucking stars.

  Dylan is gone and I can’t change that, but everything that came after it, I need to stand up and own. It’s my fault Maria started seeking comfort in the arms of another man. How can I blame her for seeking out what I’d failed to give her for so long?

  Hours pass. I think I might have fallen asleep, but when I wake up, the stars are still there, shining above me, like loyal companions, lacking judgement. Fumbling in my pocket for my phone, I check the time. 2:00 a.m. I turn my head when I hear a sound, my fuzzy vision sharpening to reveal Sofie walking over to me.

  “The party’s over, you know,” she informs me.

  “I guess I fell asleep.” With a grunt, I put my phone down and shove myself up off the table, rubbing my aching neck. “Your dad gone already?”

  I know the answer is yes. If he were still here, it would be him out here instead of Sofie.

  She nods. “Something to do with work.”

  “And let me guess, he asked you to keep an eye on me like a good little girl?” I’m being condescending as hell, but I don’t really care. The last thing I need is some kid thinking she can look after me. “Go home, Sofie. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Good, because that’s not why I’m out here.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Ignoring my question, she sits down on one of the chairs next to me and picks up the near-empty bottle of whiskey on the table and gives me a sideways glance.

  “Think you’ve had enough?”

  “Or maybe I’m just getting started.”

  I reach for the bottle and take a swig, not bothering to tell her it was almost empty when I took it. She presses her lips together, watching me as I drink. When the last of the liquid rolls down my throat, I put the bottle back down on the table. She gets to her feet and walks away. I figure she’s going to leave me alone, but instead, she goes to the outdoor bar and returns a few seconds later with another bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making my eighteenth birthday memorable,” she replies with a shrug.

  “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

  “With a game of Never Have I Ever.” Her blue eyes level on mine, demanding my attention as a playful smile spreads across her cherry-red lips. She shoves at my knee until I move over, and then she sets the glasses and bottle down. “I’m legal now, remember?”

  Legal.

  Old enough to drink.

  To drive.

  To do plenty of things…

  There’s no denying that Sofie really is all grown up.

  She certainly fills out that dress she’s wearing.

  I shudder. Fuck. I should not be thinking about my best friend’s daughter like this.

  But they’re just harmless little thoughts, right?

  I would never act on them, not even when I’m so shitfaced I can barely function. Swallowing the lump submerged in my throat, I gaze up at her.

  “Didn’t I tell you to go home?”

  “You know me.” She shrugs, her blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve never been very good at listening.”

  I swallow
, because under the bright glow of the moonlight, I can just make out the profile of her perfectly rounded tits through the sheer charcoal-coloured fabric clinging to her chest. Her long, dark hair falls in soft waves around her bare shoulders—perfect for wrapping my fist around and leading those sweet lips towards my—

  Holy fuck.

  What the heck is wrong with me?

  “You really want to play games with me, Sofie?” I rasp, my heart thumping in my chest.

  “Sure,” she replies, lifting a brow. “Unless you’re scared…”

  “Not likely,” I say with a grunt and gesture to the glasses. “Fill me up.”

  Chapter 3

  Sofie

  Twisting the cap off the bottle of whiskey, I fill both glasses and hand one to Zave. Our fingers touch, sending sparks shooting through my body. I look up, our eyes meeting for a second, but then he leans back, placing distance between us. My heart thumps because there’s something rougher and sexier about his usually refined appearance. His short, dark curls threaten to spiral out of control and his tightly clenched jaw is covered in a thick layer of stubble I just want to reach out and touch. As much as I hate to say it, crisis looks good on him.

  There’s no point in denying I’m attracted to Zave. I have been for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, I dismissed it as a schoolgirl crush. I was just a kid, and he was happily married, not to mention my father’s best friend. But as I grew older, the attraction I felt grew stronger and seeing him tonight makes me realise those feelings are still flickering away, waiting for a spark to fully ignite them. I know I’m playing with fire, but I also know getting him alone like this is a chance I’m probably never going to have again, and I’m not the kind of person to just let an opportunity like this slide, no matter how crazy and reckless it might seem.