Slower

by Deana Birch

  She giggled and tried to pull away.

  “Uh-uh. No way. I want to taste every little bit of you before you leave me.”

  “Marking your territory?” Her chin dipped, and she smiled.

  “You better believe it.” I went back to her ankle and ran my tongue up to her knee.

  “That might take a while.” She dropped down on her back; it didn’t look like she minded.

  “It will. And some places get extra attention.” I winked and reached for the other foot.

  I did my best not to miss an inch of her body. And I was a thorough man. Worshipping her, sending her off knowing I’d tasted every single part of her, gave me more pleasure than my own release. I had no idea how we were going to make it work when I left on tour, but I swore to myself she would know she was mine and I was hers.

  When I kissed her goodbye at the airport the next morning, I was sure we were in a solid place. But when I got back home to the empty apartment, I already noticed her void. It was too cold to swim, and there were no sports to watch. After an hour of watching dumb cat videos on my phone, I called Murphy.

  “Wanna get day drunk?” I asked as I opened the fridge to find empty shelves.

  “Not really. Can we go to the gym instead?”

  Pulling the phone away from my ear, I checked to make sure I’d dialed the right number. “You always complain about me being boring. Now it’s you.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll drink with you. Today we go to the gym.”

  Shane Murphy could be civilized. Who knew?

  “Fine.”

  After I’d proven to Shane that I was massively stronger than he was, I headed to the store and stocked up for our day of debauchery. Louana sent a text from New York with a picture of herself and her mom, her smile wide and eyes shining. Apparently, they had some kind of airborne book club, and she was excited to start. Maybe that was what I needed to do: Read.

  I searched the apartment for a book or magazine but realized she read everything electronically. The closest I came to reading was checking the directions on my frozen pizza. I watched more stupid videos on my phone and went to bed wondering how my life had become so fucking boring.

  The next morning, I treated Fern to a huge breakfast at a greasy diner. Our trip to Hawaii meant she’d spent the holiday alone, and her favorite present was the food Louana had never approved of her eating. She and I had a long-standing tradition of sneaking crap food, and we’d been planning the overindulgent breakfast for weeks.

  When Shane finally buzzed his arrival in the afternoon, I jumped up and met him in the courtyard. He was carrying a big box wrapped with cherry-cheeked Santas and old-fashioned toys.

  “You got me a present?” I held the door open for him.

  “Nothing gets by you, does it?” He pushed past me and set the box on the coffee table.

  I went to grab us beers and he flopped onto the couch. We clinked our cheers and took simultaneous swigs. Then I tore into my gift.

  “Oh my God. This is so much what I needed.” I stared down at the video game console. “Let’s hook it up and play until we can’t see anymore.”

  We ordered game after game online as we sat on the floor and got more and more drunk. At some point, Shane passed out on the couch, and I crawled to bed.

  He was still there when I rolled out of bed the next afternoon. I shuffled to the kitchen in my track pants and made us both coffee. The motion must have stirred him, and he yawned his way from the couch to the table. His black hair stuck out in every direction, and stubble peppered his normally clean-shaven face.

  I slid him his coffee—he took it black, like I did—and sat across from him.

  “Not sure your girlfriend’s going to like my present.” He nodded over at the living room and its mass of beer cadavers.

  “I can hide it in the shelves. She won’t even see it. Or maybe I should bring it on the bus. God, why didn’t we have one of those last time?”

  “Cheaper tour.” He sipped the coffee and pulled out his phone. “Wanna see what Fuck Face is up to?”

  Shane had been social media stalking Dimitri Le Clerc for months. I’d tried to resist but as soon as Shane found a lost game or weird picture, he would show me. He reasoned that plenty of people were obsessed with him, so he was returning the unhealthy favor and completing the fucked-up circle of fame. I failed to see any logic, but I did enjoy making fun of Louana’s ex-boyfriend and loved any highlights of his games where he cried like a baby after hard fouls. Mostly, I just enjoyed the other players tripping him.

  “I’m trying not to go down that road. You know, feed my beast.” I tapped my belly. “Louana left on good terms. I’m holding on to that.”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to see her anyway. He’s not in Paris anymore.” Shane’s thumb pushed against the screen of his phone a few times.

  “Her grandmother lives in Marseille, not Paris.”

  Shane’s lips formed a perfect “O,” and his lack of response was all I needed to know the douche-hole was in Marseille. Which was no surprise. I just didn’t particularly need the confirmation. I was holding on to the idea that he would be in a car accident and miss his family’s New Year’s Eve party.

  “Well, there aren’t any pictures of grandmothers—just a hot-looking MILF named Charlotte.”

  I yanked the phone out of his hand and found a picture of Louana’s mom behind a huge copper pot in a farm-style luxury kitchen. “Fuck me.” They were under the same roof. She wasn’t just seeing him at a party. I handed Shane back his phone. “Translate the caption.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s Louana’s mom, and she’s making Fuck Face dinner.”

  “She’s hot,” Shane said. When I shot him eyes of death, he shrugged and added, “Just sayin’, man. Your girlfriend’s mom is a ten.”

  As he fiddled with copying and pasting, the jealous monster I thought I’d gained control of awoke and ran laps around the table. My mind spun, and I tried not to think that Louana had lied to me, but it sure as shit seemed like she had.

  “My favorite part of the holidays. Charlotte’s cooking and dinner with the family,” Shane read from his phone. “They’re related?” His eyebrows curled in opposite directions. “That’s more fucked up than me.”

  I drank the rest of my coffee and already craved something stronger. “No, sick-o. He’s saying that’s his fucking mother-in-law. I knew he would weasel his way in. Fuck!”

  “Dude.” Shane put the phone face down on his right. “Can I just say something here? I know you love this girl, but it’s making you fucking crazy. And not good crazy. Like wacko-sacko crazy. Did you ever consider taking a break? Maybe you’re forcing a situation that won’t work.”

  I groaned and stood up. I didn’t want his advice. He was the fucking reason I already knew more than I should have. It wasn’t like I could call Louana and ask what her ex was doing with her mom. I could only imagine the shit she’d give me for checking up on her. I hated that Fuck Face was there and I was here. But I needed to trust her. There wasn’t a picture of them together. But that didn’t mean I was going to skip down Hollywood Boulevard and shit flowers.

  “You ready for round two of day drinking?” I finished my coffee and walked back to the kitchen.

  “You gonna let me shower and put on some of your sweats?”

  “Whatever you need, sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes and went to grab some fresh clothes and a towel.

  Because he was there for me. And with the band tension finally over since the writing spats had ceased, I was happy to have him. Our relationship might have been rocky from time to time, but I’d called and he’d answered.

  Our quick rise to fame was a surreal experience that had put The Spades into a bubble only we fully understood. Which meant that not bursting said bubble was crucial for our success. I’d had the talk with Phil more than once. I was the only voice of calm that worked on Shane Murphy. And a docile Shane was good for The Spades. If I wanted to ke
ep playing with this band—four guys who had somehow managed to find the chemistry and recipe for hit songs—I had to be the mature one.

  I tossed Shane my track pants and a T-shirt, along with a big fluffy white towel, and he trekked down the hall to the bathroom.

  “Oh!” He spun around. “I could make myself smell like your girlfriend. Then you can cry in my arms and cuddle me all night,” he mocked in a baby voice.

  I scoffed. “You wish.”

  But that weird unease that sometimes crept between us appeared as he flipped me off and went back to the bathroom. Because Shane had a twisted brain. Who the fuck would even think of proposing that?

  14

  LOUANA

  * * *

  I hugged my arms to my chest as I treaded down the familiar stone path to Dimitri’s car and climbed in.

  “I get a private goodbye?” he asked.

  Leave it to him to flip my intentions.

  “Thanks for lying.” I pressed the seat warmer button and caught him checking out my legs. My black sweater dress wasn’t doing much to conceal his favorite body part. I tugged the hem closer to my knees.

  “I thought you told Stella you ’ad a boyfriend? Why did she say you were in ’awaii with just friends?” He crossed his arms and shifted in his seat. His thick brow furrowed, and he blinked a few times.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even know you and your parents were coming until this morning, when we were at the market. I assume it was a setup. And I don’t think it was just Stella. Your mom drilled me all night about the next time I was coming.” I kicked off my heels and brought a foot under my rear.

  “Well, she did bring my last girlfriend to tears before the main course of dinner.”

  I smiled at the thought of a mean Valentina. I’d never been on the receiving end of her temper—I’d known her for too long—but that Spanish woman could bring anyone to their knees. Except Dimitri. She worshipped her only child.

  “Will they ever stop trying?” I asked with a whimper.

  In Stella’s and Valentina’s minds, Dimitri and I were a closed book. Meant to be. Soul mates. Happily-ever-afters. I’d heard success stories about arranged marriages, but everyone deciding for me was exactly what had led me to move away from them.

  “Not sure I want them to.” He uncrossed his arms, and rolled his neck against the leather headrest. His hazel eyes glowed in the otherwise dark car. He continued, “It’s not like we’ve never given them a reason to stop. In fact, we’ve ’ooked up every Christmas since you got old enough for me to kiss you.” Dimitri bit his pouty lip and raised his brow.

  It was true. Dimitri and I had rekindled our relationship so many times we could have burned down the city of Marseille.

  “Not this time. Besides, I was just being nice to you in there. That shit you pulled with Vincent was not okay,” I said and scratched my thigh. His eyes followed the movement, and I quickly covered the exposed flesh.

  He stared at the spot and grinned. “You know, I’ve seen that all before.”

  I shook my head a couple times. “That doesn’t mean you’ll ever get to see it again.”

  He chuckled. “Ah, Minette. I do so love it when you show your claws.” He checked the clock on the dash. “I ’ave to go. You tell Stella the details about Monsieur Californie and break ’er and my mother’s ’earts. Don’t forget the part about you living together. That will be the nails on the coffin.”

  “I …” Shit. I wasn’t ready. I loved Jake but didn’t even know if we could make it through his tour. If I confessed to my grandmother and two months later Jake and I were finished, I would have disappointed her for nothing. And I did not want to end up with Stella judging me the way she always had my mother for quick relationships. Why did everything move so fast? Faced with hard realities and old expectations, I needed time.

  “Listen, Minette. I’m trying to move on, too. I understood what you told me in L.A.”

  I swallowed, and my eyes skimmed his body for any of his tells.

  “Bullshit. That is a pile of bullshit.”

  He smirked. Asshole.

  “You found out I had a boyfriend and you flew straight to see me. Two can play at your game. If I told Stella what you did with my career she would be furious.” Take that, lip biter.

  “And you would ruin the friendship of our families. Are you ready to do that?” His tone had changed from playful to serious.

  And he had a point. Jesus, he had thought out his plan. My free leg twitched, and his eyes went right to the movement. I froze, and a part of me died inside at the fact that I’d stopped it because of his reaction.

  “I tell you what. Let’s play nice for the party, and then you can yell and scream at me during our lunch.”

  I slid my leg out from under my butt and slipped my feet back into my heels. “I’m not going to lunch with you. And you will promise to leave me and my career alone.” The cool, sleek handle of the door opposed the wild burning fire inside me.

  “One dance.” His top teeth raked his plump bottom lip.

  “No.”

  He steepled his fingers and stared at me. After a long beat, he said, “You loving another man is something I never imagined would happen. I was shook. I acted badly, and I’m sorry. But I, like you, don’t want to ruin our families because of my mistakes. Give me one last dance, and I promise to stay out of your life. If that’s what you want.”

  Deep down, I knew he was lying. His addiction to controlling me was as hard for him to let go of as it was for me to escape from. But the need for him to set me free screamed louder than the squeak of falsehood.

  “Fine.” I pulled on the handle and got out of the car. With every poised step I took back toward Stella’s villa, I regretted my obvious surrender.

  At the Le Clercs’ party, and after a lap of hellos to the elite of Marseille, we found Vincent Renier, and I squealed with joy. Standing at his side was the frail, pale, out-of-place, and beyond excited Casey Wolfe. I gave him a massive hug and introduced him to my family.

  “I had no idea you would be here!” I beamed at Casey.

  “Surprise!”

  As we walked over to the bar, Casey explained that he and Vincent were spending the next month in France—Vincent to seal the deal with investors for a new project and Casey to complete an intensive study of the language.

  Dimitri’s cologne reached my nose, but it was his energy that told me he was behind me. He put an arm around my waist and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  “Bonsoir.”

  Casey raised both eyebrows, and his gaze toggled between Dimitri and me. I wiggled out of Dimitri’s grasp. If he thought that one dance was going to turn into something else, he was sadly mistaken. But Dimitri’s charm had already worked on Casey when they’d met in Paris. It wasn’t just the hazel eyes and dapper clothes that had made an impression on Casey. The way Dimitri had engaged with him, asking about his childhood with true curiosity, had my work bestie down right swooning.

  At one point, I turned to Dimitri and said, “Doesn’t it feel good to finally have people our own age at this party? Why didn’t we insist on inviting friends here years ago?”

  “No, I was too selfish. I wanted you all to myself.” His lips formed the perfect pout. I knew it wasn’t true. I had heard him beg his parents to allow some of his teammates to come. They’d always said no.

  Dimitri offered to give Casey a tour of the mansion, and as they left, I spotted my mom, went over, and hooked my arm through hers. She was listening politely to the lawyer Stella had pushed on her, but I could tell there was no spark. I apologized to him that I needed to steal her back for a minute and pulled her away to refill our drinks.

  At the bar, when she looked over my shoulder with a tight smile, I knew he was back.

  “Come on, Minette. We need to dance.” Dimitri grabbed my hand and pulled me into the center of the floor before I could object. My mother’s confused expression followed, and I promised myself to clue her in when I could.

/>   Yves Montand’s “Sous le Ciel de Paris” began to play, and I took my very familiar place in Dimitri’s arms. With one hand at shoulder height and the other on my waist, he very skillfully led me around the dance floor. We weren’t the only people dancing, but I could sense being in the spotlight.

  “They’re watching us,” I whispered.

  “Whatever you do, don’t enjoy this.” He pulled me closer after a spin, and his eyes flashed.

  The familiarity kicked in. I even giggled. The South of France was a different world. A world where I never knew who I was because I knew I would always have to leave it. But when the first three notes of the next song played overhead, I froze. They were the same notes Jake had played for me in our living room.

  I dropped my arms and stepped back from Dimitri.

  “I …”

  The grainy voice above transported me back to the moment, and I scolded myself for dancing with Dimitri.

  “I can’t do this.”

  Dimitri’s face flinched and landed with a concerned frown. “Ça va?”

  I shook my head quickly and exited the dancefloor in hurried strides. Air. I needed air. The back terrace was empty, but I wasn’t alone for long.

  “You two are like a scene from a movie.” Casey nuzzled up next to me. “I suddenly understand why you listen to old French music now. Look, I even have pictures.” He showed me his phone.

  “Ha,” I managed and turned back to the view of the sea.

  “What happened in there? Are you okay?” he asked just above a whisper.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” I rubbed my bare shoulders and Casey offered me his jacket. I still hadn’t told Casey that Dimitri and Vincent had schemed behind my back. Mostly because I couldn’t figure out Vincent’s motives.

  “You’re not sure which role to play when or where?” Casey’s bottom lip twisted.

  Bingo. Casey knew a lot about playing roles. About being one person to his family and another to his friends. He was a perfect ally in my social war.