Hold Onto the Stars by Tracy Broemmer

Chapter 15

Gino’s served delicious food,and it was true that conversation was easier there since the background music was much quieter than that at The Rox. But the place certainly lacked a romantic atmosphere. Still, CJ decided before their dinner was even served that so far, this was the best date she’d had in years.

Maybe ever, but that kind of thinking tiptoed up against perfect together thinking, and she wasn’t that kind of girl. Still, Peyton was fun, interesting. He shared stories about his school years, about living at home with his parents and sister, and he laughed along with CJ when he told her the story of scoring a goal for the opposing team when he first started playing soccer at the tender age of five. She laughed even harder when he shared that he had done it again when he was thirteen and playing with a nasty head cold, under the influence of cold and cough medicine.

But he asked about her life, too. He asked about her parents, about her school years. And he listened. It wasn’t that CJ found fault with the guys she had grown up with in Oak Bend for not talking or listening. Just that after so many years of living in each other’s pockets, there wasn’t much new left to share. Except a future, and CJ’s plans for her future were sketchy, with one definite. Every guy she went to school with wanted kids to carry on the family name, to play baseball or football, to be ballerinas or volleyball stars. CJ wanted love and romance and forever. Even a dog. She would even drive a van for the dog, if she had to. But she didn’t want to raise a family.

When they finished their dinner, rather than go straight back to his SUV, Peyton grabbed her hand and tugged her in the opposite direction.

“What’re we doing?” She looked up at him as they walked side by side away from Gino’s.

“Let’s take a walk. It’s a beautiful night.”

She couldn’t argue that. A handful of stars twinkled over them, almost as if someone had tossed them like dice through the darkness. CJ watched them for a moment as they walked. A cool breeze nipped at her legs, but the quiet of the town square—the boutiques closed for the evening and the square itself empty of all but a few people walking their dogs—was calming.

“Are you into astrology?”

“No.” She peeked at him with a grin but looked back at the sky. “My mom used to tell me the stars were holes in the sky where people we lost could see through the clouds to watch over us.”

Surprised by her own admission, CJ met his eyes again.

“Her parents died pretty young,” she continued and dragged her gaze away from his. She wanted to fidget, to pick at her fingernails or pop her knuckles, but Peyton kept his fingers linked with hers. “A car accident. My great-grandmother told her the stars were holes in the sky. I’m not sure what I thought about it when I was little, ya know? I never met my grandparents. My great-grandmother was a little gray-haired lady who wore floral print dresses and orthopedic shoes. Sweet, but I didn’t know her well.”

From the corner of her eye, CJ could see Peyton watching her as they walked. When he didn’t respond, her mouth opened, and words continued to spill out.

“But after…” She cleared her throat. “After I lost my mom, I started looking for the stars every night. When I was still really young, I was actually hoping to see through the stars, to see Mom’s face. Maybe I thought I would see her eyes, like heaven was just on the other side of the clouds, and she was kneeling on heaven’s floor, with her eye pressed to a hole, looking for me.”

When Peyton still didn’t respond, CJ laughed nervously and stopped walking.

“What?” he asked when she looked up at him.

“You didn’t ask for crazy, right?” She shrugged. “Dinner. Kissing. Maybe sex. But no crazy.”

“Dinner. Kissing. Making love,” he corrected her. “And that’s not crazy, Crosby. I think it’s beautiful.”

“Even if I told you that at thirty, I still want to believe she’s up there watching over me?”

“Even if.” He nodded.

“My dad and I are close,” she spoke softly. “It’s been just the two of us for so long, it’s almost like…”

“Like what?”

“Like I can’t remember what having a mom is like.”

Exactly why she didn’t want to be a mother. For twenty-three years she had lived without one. What the hell would she know about being one? About being responsible for another human being in this world? Keeping a child out of danger? Keeping a child healthy? Making a child feel loved and happy?

“Sorry.” She smiled and stepped closer to him. “Way to bring the party down, huh?”

“I’m lucky,” he said simply. “Have both sets of grandparents. My parents are healthy. My sister has a good family.”

“Yeah? Do you miss them?”

“I do.” He nodded, but he sounded uncertain. They started walking again, still hand in hand, although they walked closer together now. Slower. More involved in the conversation than the walk or the town square.

“But?”

He laughed and squeezed her fingers. “How do you know there’s a ‘but’?’”

“Isn’t there always?” She grinned up at him.

“My sister waited a while to have kids.”

CJ wondered if he heard the way her heartbeat kicked up a notch, like a thoroughbred horse thundering around a racetrack.

“It made my parents crazy. They wanted grandchildren. When Annie got married, they thought it would happen quickly. I thought once Annie had kids, they would be happy.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “They started pressuring you?”

“Sort of,” he mumbled. “My girlfriend was worse.” He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“College romance,” he explained. They had wound their way around the square and found themselves back at the SUV. Rather than getting in the vehicle, Peyton led her to a park bench set back under a tree.

“You broke up?”

Peyton nodded. “She broke up with me.”

“Did you love her?”

“Maybe. A little bit.” He pursed his lips. “But.” He sighed.

“You don’t want to tell me?” she asked quietly.

“It’s complicated.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees.

“I told you I still look for the stars to find my mom’s face,” she reminded him.

“Erica wanted babies.” His voice came out gravelly and harsh, like it pained him to say the words. CJ opened her mouth to breathe, stunned at the sharp pain in her lungs.

“And you don’t?” She held her breath, held her body still, afraid to move.

“Of course I do,” he mumbled.

The pain in her lungs expanded. Ribs squeezing so tight she could hardly breathe, CJ winced and looked away.

“So, what happened?”

She should have known this thing with Peyton was too good to be true.

“Well.” He huffed out a harsh sigh and turned his head to meet her eyes. “I can’t have kids.”

CJ drew back in surprise, certainly not expecting that. Unsure what to say, she simply watched him and waited for him to continue.

“The soccer injury,” he told her. “It was a severe groin injury.”

“I’m sorry.”

She was sorry. She didn’t want children, but Peyton did, and she could hear the pain, the sorrow in his voice.

“It didn’t bother me so much when I was a kid.” He looked away now, his brows drawn in a deep frown. “I guess on some level, I knew it would be a big deal when I was older. But when I was in high school, I was just angry because it ended my soccer career.”

CJ bit her lip, sad for him. Sad for herself. She should open her mouth and end this now. It might hurt them both, but eventually, they would recover and—hopefully—be friends.

“The hell of it was that it was my fault.”

“How can a sports injury be your fault?”

“It was a practice. Before practice, actually. Coupla guys and I were goofing off. I didn’t have my cup in yet. I should’ve known better. The trauma from the kick ruptured the ducts that carry sperm.”

CJ flinched. She didn’t have the same parts, but she could still empathize with him. The injury sounded horribly painful. And the results would be difficult for someone who wanted a family.

“She just—? She just left you? Even though she loved you?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I mean. I get it. She wanted a family, and I couldn’t give her that.”

“Seems like it shouldn’t matter if she loved you.”

“I suggested adoption. I mean, my parents—my mom—jumped on that train the second the word infertility came up in the hospital. ‘Don’t worry, Peyton, you can always adopt.’”

“Oh, Peyton.” CJ bit her lip.

“My sister kind of ripped her apart for that. I heard them arguing. Annie told her it was like saying that to a woman who kept miscarrying babies.” Peyton scrubbed his hands back through his hair. “At the time, I didn’t give a damn about babies. I wanted to play college ball.”

CJ closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to comfort him, and yet, it felt wrong to do so. Wouldn’t offering comfort now give him the wrong idea? Yes, she was attracted to him, and yes, it had already gone further than that. She liked him. She wanted to explore the possibilities between them. But she couldn’t give him what he wanted. Strike that. She could. She could produce babies, or she could adopt them.

But she wouldn’t.

“I loved Erica, but when she left, what really hit me was that no matter what, no matter the woman I find and fall in love with, I’m always gonna have to own up to my faults—”

“Peyton, infertility’s not a fault. Being selfish or abusive or neglectful…Those are faults.”

“Doesn’t matter, CJ. I can’t give a woman babies, so every relationship I have ends eventually for that reason.”

She could tell him. His infertility didn’t have to mean they were over. But she couldn’t find the courage to say the words. He might not believe her. Not at this stage in the game. Maybe another woman said the same thing to him in the beginning and then changed her mind and walked out because he was damaged goods.

“My mom was so depressed when Erica and I split. She took it worse than I did. She was so sure Erica was the one. She was ready to plan the wedding. All she could talk about was me and Erica adopting. And how she and my dad would love any child we adopted as much as they loved Annie’s kids. Didn’t matter if it was a baby or a toddler or a teenager.”

CJ gave in. Her body was already leaning toward him, needing to be close, to offer comfort. She slipped her arm around his back and rested her head against his arm.

“So.” He barked a harsh laugh and shrugged his shoulders as he turned his head to look at her again. “There’s that.”

“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her fingers up and down his arm, wishing she could take his pain away. Wishing she could say it didn’t matter to her, that if they stayed together, they could adopt. She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t offer him a lie, even if his infertility didn’t matter at all.

“Sorry she left me?” he asked quietly.

Gaze locked with his, CJ pressed closer to him and brushed her lips over his.

“Sorry she hurt you.”

Still close enough to him to feel his breath on her face, she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Way to bring the party down, huh?” He grinned, but his eyes were still sad.

Again, CJ worried about giving him the wrong impression, but she liked him, and the sadness in his downturned mouth hurt her.

“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested.

His brows jumped a tiny bit in surprise.

“Where to?”

“Well, since my dad lives next door to me,” she shrugged and laughed softly, “I mean, the walls aren’t paper thin, but we could just go to your place.”

Peyton linked his fingers through hers as he stood and led her to his SUV. The short drive was long enough for her to think about what she was doing. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to hang out with him, to have dinner again. Go dancing with him. Curl up on the sofa and watch a movie with him. She wanted more kissing and touching, and hell yes, she wanted to wake up in his bed tomorrow.

But she couldn’t do it. They weren’t compatible. The issue of children, of raising a family, was too big, too important to ignore. Making love with him tonight would only complicate everything between them. CJ didn’t want to hurt him. And she didn’t want that intimate connection with him only to walk away and miss him.

Junie bounded past them and darted into the backyard when Peyton opened the door. Despite the butterflies in her belly, the unease of having to walk away and risk hurting him, CJ laughed at Junie’s antics.

“Want anything?” Peyton flipped the light on over the sink. CJ set her purse on the counter and shook her head.

“No.”

Eyes locked, he took a few steps closer to her and reached for her hand. Afraid he would read the regret in her eyes, CJ dropped her gaze to their linked fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what?” She jerked her gaze back up to his. The intimacy in the look he gave her squeezed her lungs again. Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, waiting for him to say more.

“You asked about a college relationship. Not my medical history.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. Despite her brain’s warnings, she stepped closer to him, desperate to comfort him. To assure him she didn’t see him as damaged goods. Peyton moved their linked hands to her hip, but CJ smoothed her free hand up over his shoulder and brushed his neck with her fingers. His pulse jumped under her fingertips.

“Maybe not first date material.” He gave her a tiny shrug.

“I asked,” she reminded him. And maybe it was first date material, because finding this out now—even though it hurt—might save them both a lot of heartache down the road.

He loosened his grip on her fingers to sink his own into her hip and tug her closer. CJ leaned into him willingly and ducked her head to the crook of his neck. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, intoxicated by his clean, masculine scent.

She should go.

“Crosby.”

It might have been the way he leaned close to say her name, his warm breath on her ear. Or the way his hand splayed possessively over her bottom. Might have been the sexy way he said her name. But when he lifted her chin and kissed her, she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. Soft, chaste kisses, there in the dimly lit kitchen. CJ wanted more, but she liked this. Slow. Tender. If kissing him like this was any indication, she assumed Peyton would be a considerate, generous lover.

“This okay?” he murmured against her lips.

“Yes.”

She forgot that, thirty seconds ago, she had decided she needed to leave. To push Peyton back into the friend zone and get out before even that was out of reach. Peyton’s velvet tongue stroking her lips, seeking hers, sent a ripple of heat through her. Parting her lips, she pushed back and flicked her tongue over the center of his upper lip. The hungry rumble in his chest drove her to put her other arm over his shoulders and draw him closer.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

CJ pulled away and pressed her face to his. She shook her head, uncomfortable with the compliment.

“Peyton.” She rubbed the back of his neck gently.

“Can I touch you?”

She laughed softly and turned back to look at him.

“Stop asking me permission,” she whispered with a sad smile. “You’re killing me.”

He arched his eyebrows hopefully. Rather than answer, CJ palmed the back of his head and drew him close for another kiss. She explored his mouth with greed, moaning with pleasure when Peyton inched her dress up to slip his hands under the soft material.

His fingers were warm and gentle on the back of her thighs.

“Crosby?” He nipped at her tongue and then her lip when she drew back to look at him.

“Yes.” Smoothing her hands over his face, she pulled his mouth close to hers again, hungry for more.

This was different. She hadn’t been with anyone in well over a year, but she knew this was different. Slower. Special. They weren’t teenagers rushing to the good spots, anxious for the release. Instead, CJ reveled in the feel of his hands, his fingers cupping her butt and sliding under the elastic of her panties. She kissed a trail from his lips to his ear, nipping his earlobe and then latching onto his neck. As the flat of her tongue pressed to his hot skin, she felt him gasp and moan. The press of his erection between them filled her with power and lust.

But just because they wanted this didn’t mean it was a good idea.

“CJ?”

Of course, he felt her hesitation, almost before she could think it.

“Mmm.” She rested her forehead on his shoulder and licked her lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, Peyton.”

“What do you mean?”

A tiny groan of regret escaped her when he moved his hands and then smoothed her dress back over her hips and her butt.

“I can’t.”

“You don’t want to?”

CJ lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him.

“God, yes, I want to.” She swallowed hard. Her panties were wet, but Peyton hadn’t gotten far enough under her dress to find that out.

“But you can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Violet again?”

CJ flinched and looked away when he arched his brows hopefully. When she couldn’t find her voice, she simply shook her head.

“Oh.” His response was clipped and cool. Summoning all of her courage, she pulled in a deep breath and met his eyes again. “Got it.”

“No, you don’t,” she argued.

“The conversation.” He nodded. ‘The one that ends any relationship I hope to start.”

“Not like you think, Peyton.”

“What does that mean?”

CJ flinched at his harsh tone. Stepping away from her, he flipped the rest of the lights on, effectively killing the mood.

CJ sighed. Nope. She had killed the mood. Peyton was just reacting. Trying to protect himself.

“I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“It’s okay.”

Opening her eyes, she watched him cross the room to the fridge and pull the door open. She leaned on the counter when he grabbed a beer.

“We’ll just go back to being buddies.” His sarcasm was a slap in the face.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

He parked his butt on the counter at his back and stared at her silently.

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not patronizing you, Peyton. I don’t want to fight. I like you.”

“Here’s the thing.” He tipped his head. “When I told you about Erica?”

She nodded, expecting him to tear into her. Why hadn’t she just thanked him for dinner and asked him to drive her home, instead of coming here to be alone with him? Instead of leading him on? She held her breath and waited. She deserved whatever he said.

“It hurt.” He shrugged. “Sure, it did. What guy isn’t gonna feel rejected for…” He waved his hand in a circle and glanced at his own fly. “But also, I wasn’t head over heels in love with her.” CJ waited, sensing he had more to say. “I like you,” he told her. “Like, you’re all I’ve thought of since that first—”

“You don’t know me, Peyton!” she snapped. “Don’t tell me there’s something—”

She stopped talking when he moved. Fast, like a snake, he moved from the counter, leaned over the bar where she stood, and cupped her chin in his hand.

“Don’t tell me there’s not something between us.”

“It’s too soon—”

“Bullshit, Crosby Jean.” He straightened and shrugged his shoulders. “You feel it. Every damned time we’ve been alone together, you’ve felt it just the same way I have.”

CJ sniffled and dropped her gaze to the bar.

“Just say it,” he continued. “I’m not man enough for you, because even though I want to—”

“I don’t want to adopt.”

Her words came out as a whisper.

“And there it is.”

She dragged her eyes up over his chest and shoulders and finally met his hard gaze.

“Good to know.” He nodded dismissively. “Can we at least be friends?”

“Peyton.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want kids.”

His sullen stare made her uneasy. She pressed her lips together and sniffled again. Ironic. She hadn’t been weepy over a guy in years. She liked Peyton enough to feel that crushing pain of loss, and they never even had a chance to get started.

“I don’t want babies. I don’t want toddlers. Teenagers. Anything in between.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to be a mom.”

If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she might have missed it. He flicked his eyes away just for a moment, and disappointment crept over his face, turned his lips down. The utter dejection was gone in an instant, but CJ noticed the way his shoulders lifted and his chest expanded when he moved his eyes back to hers. He’d taken a deep breath, as if to control his emotions.

Unnerved by his silence and feeling raw after admitting she didn’t want something that he couldn’t have, she held her breath again.

“I know. You probably think I’m horribly selfish—”

“I don’t.”

“But I won’t change my mind.” She shrugged apologetically.

“What if it doesn’t matter? To me?”

“It does, though,” she whispered. “You already told me you want babies, Peyton. You deserve to be with someone who wants the same things you do.”