Slower

by Deana Birch

  LOUANA

  * * *

  I had let him spend the night again. And not because I was a sucker. Because I wanted him near me. I was freefalling into happiness instead of avoiding it. But it was scary as hell. And I knew there was one thing we would need to do before moving on, and I hated it: Talk. We needed to talk.

  At least it wasn’t a confrontation. Or that’s what I told myself. Just a cleaning of the air.

  I went for a run to clear my head and tried to come up with tactics to ease into a conversation about what he’d done and what that meant for us moving forward. When I came back, Jake was in the kitchen cooking. I kissed him good morning, got myself ready for work, packed my yoga bag, and sat down at the table, where a scrumptious veggie omelet was waiting for me.

  He took a sip of his coffee and said, “So … I swear I’m not trying to force your hand. I just want to let you know that when—well, if—you decided we can have full-on sex again, I’m clean. I went to the doctor last week. We don’t need condoms.”

  “Right. That was very practical of you.” I winked. “I have to change my IUD next week. I’ll get tested, too.” I went back to my eggs, and when I smiled up at him to compliment his cooking, I knew the beast was back. I’d really thought we’d moved beyond this. Shit.

  “How many guys did you fuck while we were broken up?”

  It was an uglier beast than I remembered.

  “You really want to talk numbers, rock star?”

  He shot up, grabbed his empty plate, and clanked it in the sink. I stomped into the kitchen with my hands on my hips. Double standards pissed me off.

  “I could say eight or one. It wouldn’t make a difference. You would still be unjustifiably jealous. I’m willing to put out of my mind your adventures on the road. Why can’t you let go of Dimitri?” Merde. Shit. My anger had let it slip.

  “It was him?” A look of disgust covered Jake’s face. “You said you didn’t get back together.”

  “We didn’t, and you don’t get to judge me.”

  His arms crossed over the Rolling Stones logo on his chest. “When?”

  I didn’t want him to think it was over New Year’s, so I told him the truth. “When I was there in May.”

  He slumped down and looked away as his eyes blinked and glossed. “Why?”

  Broken. I’d finally broken his healing heart. I sighed. Maybe hashing through it would finally put it to rest. “Because it was easy. And I was lonely. Probably not unlike why you slept with Lord only knows how many … people while you were on the road.”

  “Why do you say people?”

  I checked the time. “I need to get to work. Can you please spend the day thinking about how irrational it is of you to be jealous of me sleeping with one person when you’ve been with a number that I’m not even interested in knowing?”

  “None of them were my ex-girlfriends.”

  “You don’t have any ex-girlfriends.” I kissed him on the cheek, hoping to defuse the situation, and left.

  Work was quiet and calm. I met Brandon at yoga and we shared a juice afterward. He wanted some advice about his girlfriend, who had turned into a control freak. After all the miles we had run together and how he’d helped me at the beginning of the year, I was happy to give him my ear and opinion. As I drove back to work, I reflected on how wrong I had been to judge Brandon when I’d first met him. The back-tapping, bubbly actor had become my friend.

  That night, Gina’s little convertible in the visitor spot made me giddy. I had missed our backstage banter and antics. When she saw me come through the gate, she shrieked and ran into my arms.

  “This is a fab surprise. What are you doing here?” I pulled back to arm’s length. Gina had on hot pink genie pants and a tube top that barely held in her awesome boobs. Lucky bitch.

  “Jake is gonna watch the dog for the weekend. I’m flying to Portland tomorrow morning. And he bought one of my paintings, so I dropped it by with Boomers.”

  I greeted the dogs with scratches, Fern with a smile, and Jake with a kiss.

  The grill was out, the dogs played tug-of-war with a recently unstuffed toy from Jake, and the sangria flowed. Jake had even brought out a wireless speaker and put on Van Morrison in the background. It always made me think of him.

  “Turkey burgers.” He nodded to the grill.

  I smiled in approval of Jake’s attempt to give Fern what she wanted and needed at the same time. And long live grill season; it meant someone else cooked for a change.

  Fern poured me a glass and I sat down next to Gina.

  “You two are back together?” Gina’s lips pursed as she waited for me to drink and answer.

  “Not officially. We’re working on it. How’s Sam?”

  “Miserable without Jake.” She shrugged.

  “Sorry, girl.”

  Boom Boom growled, and we all checked to make sure it didn’t have serious consequences.

  Gina gave her dog a comforting but somehow firm warning and turned back to me. “So, I was just saying to Fern that I missed her and was wondering if the three of us could have a girls’ night out. I found this great jazz band I think she would like, and they’re playing on these three dates.” She pulled up a flyer for the band on her phone.

  “That’s an amazing idea,” I said with a massive smile. Jake wasn’t the only one who could take Fern on fieldtrips and get her out of the apartment. I could be the fun parent for once.

  Jake carried the patties to the table and announced his feast was ready. He’d also made burgers for each of the dogs. No doubt an attempt to make Boom Boom fall for the charm of her babysitter. As if any of us had a choice.

  Fern, Gina, and I picked a date, and Gina barely kept her emotions together as she said goodbye to her dog. The sting of her new mama leaving her was softened by Boom Boom’s love for Archie, but just to make sure she was happy, Jake decided to take Archie with him for the weekend as well. I cleaned up the courtyard and climbed up the stairs to Jake’s place with a bottle of wine.

  His only furniture was his bed, so we sat on the floor in the living room while the dogs got comfortable in the bedroom.

  Jake opened the wine, poured, and offered me a glass.

  After a sip, I asked, “Did you think about our conversation from this morning?”

  “Yeah, while I beat the shit out of a punching bag at the gym.” He sat against the wall with one leg up and his arm draped over it.

  “And?”

  “I get where you’re coming from, but at the same time, you went back to him. And it’s not just the history or the fact that your family prefers him. It’s that control he has over you.”

  I crawled next to him and interlaced my strong fingers into mine. “First of all, my family just wants me happy. And secondly, I’ve told you many times: I want balance. I want even.”

  He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it. His head hit the wall behind him. “I know these things.”

  “How can we put him behind us?”

  He rubbed his neck and revealed more of his tattoo. I crawled into his lap and laid my head over the ink. I hoped he knew what I was getting at.

  “I really want to fucking try. I know my jealousy ruined us. If you really give us another chance, I don’t want to fuck up again. When I thought I’d lost you to him, I wanted to die. When I realized I’d lost you because of me, I nearly did.”

  Christ, could I ever relate. I wanted to make him feel better, get him on stable ground before we let in the other elephant. My mouth twisted while I pondered my confession. “I thought about you.” I bit my bottom lip.

  “Huh?” He twisted his neck to look me in the eyes.

  “While I was having sex with Dimitri, I thought about you.”

  Jake let out an airy chuckle. “That definitely softens the blow.”

  I brought my mouth in front of his and pondered his perfect heart. “Because no one makes me feel like you do. And I don’t mean physically. I mean cherished. You make me feel cherished.”
<
br />   “Until I didn’t.”

  Enter massive, wrinkled beast.

  I pulled back, and despite the urge to get out of his lap, I stayed. “I always told you if you did so much as kiss another woman, we were done.”

  His eyes closed hard. When they opened, he stared at the floor for a long time before finally looking at me. Tears pooled under his lashes, and he let out a hard breath. “I will do anything for a second chance. Anything.”

  I’d thought long and hard about new stipulations in case I was ever ready to take him back. And I had a non-negotiable list. My fingertips brushed over the tops of his ears, and I tugged slowly at a random strand of his soft hair. “No more drugs.”

  “Done,” he said with a solemn voice.

  “Never, ever, fucking cheat on me again. Even though you only kissed her, even with all the fucked-up shit you made yourself believe, even with all the chemicals I assume you put in your body that night—none of it can ever happen again.”

  “I’m not trying to add insult to injury baby, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t just kiss her.” He cringed.

  Casey was right. Jake had a right to know how far—or not far—he had gone. “According to her, you were too drunk for anything else.”

  His chin tucked in.

  “Casey asked her.”

  “Well,” he said with a sigh. “That would explain why I’m still clean. Because the number of people I slept with on the road is exactly zero.”

  It didn’t erase the kiss, or the pictures, or the nights I’d spent sobbing into my pillow out of loneliness. But it did help.

  I laid my head back on his shoulder. “I think I want to sleep like this.”

  “Whatever you, need, baby.” He kissed the crown of my head. “Anything.”

  37

  JAKE

  * * *

  Fuck, I loved holding her. The way the bundle of hair on her head tickled my neck. How she wrapped her arms around my waist and played with the hem of my boxers. Having it back, if even for a night, was sacred. I inhaled her calm and hoped it would give me strength.

  Because there was still one massive issue I needed to unload onto Louana. And even though I claimed to be a guy who wanted to talk about everything, staying mute on this issue had kept me sane for months. But if she did choose me again, she deserved to know everything. Maybe if I shared my most guarded secret, she could find a way to reciprocate the trust. Maybe she would say the words I was dying to hear.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said in a shallow voice.

  My quiet tone kept her head down, and I thanked her for it. Looking into those eyes and seeing more disappointment would be heart wrenching.

  “It’s about Shane and why I left the band.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “Yeah, but this morning you said people—not women.”

  She said a casual, “did I?”

  “When I first joined the band, things were nuts. There was a lot of … excess.”

  “You don’t have to justify behavior from your past, Jake.”

  “I think I do.”

  “Okay.”

  I chewed my cheek before continuing, “There were a couple of really wild nights where Shane and I decided to mix Viagra, coke, and ecstasy.”

  “Quite the cocktail.”

  Yeah. Yeah, it was. Jesus, she was right to make me swear off drugs.

  “One of those nights—oh God, I hate telling you this, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us—one of those nights I had sex with Shane.” I locked my jaw, closed my eyes, and bared my teeth.

  “I know. He told me.”

  My mind blurred. I pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. “When?”

  She hunched her shoulders and pressed her lips together before saying, “A long time ago. It’s actually why I asked for the extension before you moved in. He said I’d broken up your romance. I needed a minute to sort out how I felt about it.”

  “It wasn’t that. It was one night.” Fitting that both times I’d fucked up with too many drugs in my system, I’d paid the price. Karma was a bitch, but a scrupulous one. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it was coupled with him being inappropriate, and I knew if you found out you would quit the band. And I wanted you to have the success you’d worked so hard for.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make.” I fucking knew Shane had hit on her. Fucking asshole.

  “Maybe not. But thank you for being open with me.” She laid her head back into the spot where it belonged.

  A wave of relief flooded over me that the Shane secrets were finally out in the open. But at the same time, it reminded me I still had a lot of work to do. I had no band. I had no music. And being a songwriter and performer was so ingrained in me that I honestly didn’t think I could do anything else. Even in music, I couldn’t score film like Mario did.

  I wrote rock songs. And based on the fact that my former band’s biggest hits were penned by me, I wrote decent rock songs.

  Louana smacked her lips like she did when she was about to fall asleep.

  “Baby?” I whispered.

  “Hmmm?” Her little nuzzle put me more at ease than I’d been since Christmas.

  “What happens if I find a new band and have to go back out on the road?”

  Selfish to ask, I was sure. But it had always eaten at me that she’d never agreed to come to any shows away from home.

  She sat up in a fluid motion that reflected her tired state. Through heavy lids, she looked into my eyes with what I was sure was love. “We’ll take it slower, right? No bulldozing from you, no running away by me.”

  “I hope so.” God, I hoped so. It still wasn’t a commitment, but I was closer to solid ground with her than I’d ever been.

  “And if we do decide to be together, you’ll have to travel for me, too. You’ll have to come to France. Now that we know what’s at risk, we’ll make it work.” As her head returned to its rightful place, her thighs and arms squeezed my torso tight. And I squeezed back. While there hadn’t been a formal “we’re back in a relationship,” she’d just offered a huge piece of its validation.

  Once she’d fallen asleep, I carried her to the bed, where the two beasts were spread out. Archie’s chin stayed down, but he looked up at me as if he was asking to stay on the bed. With my thumb, I motioned to the floor and mouthed, “Sorry.” He and Boom Boom hopped down together as if understanding the moment.

  The first time I slept in this bed would be with her, and I prayed to any god who would listen to me that, even after all my fuckups, I could have her in it on a permanent basis.

  38

  LOUANA

  * * *

  With my clean bill of health and brand-new IUD, I decided the magic day for Jake and me would be Saturday. We had plans to try a new French-and-Thai fusion restaurant in Silver Lake, and when we got back, it would be go time.

  And thank sweet baby Jesus. I was holding on by a thread. Throughout the week, I had caught him in various circumstances that had made me want to jump him then and there. Monday night I’d walked in on him playing the piano, and electricity had shot up my spine. Tuesday, he had been in the pool, and when he’d laughed at the belly flop Archie landed, the way his head fell back had made me want to dive in and give sex in the pool a final try. And oh, Lord, Thursday. When I had gone up to his place to tell him dinner was ready, and he’d come out wearing just a towel, it had taken everything I had not to charge him and take back my man fully then and there.

  But I wasn’t just ready to have him back in my bed. It was his arms and heart I needed most. The sex was a symbol of trust, and going all in meant I trusted him again. And I thought I did. Once he’d shared what I imagined was his most brutal confession, there was no doubt the man was trying.

  Friday night was Gina’s girls’ night out, which aimed to please Fern more than the rest of us. It was at a supper club in Beverly Hills, with a big band jazz ensemble schedu
led to play when we finished eating. Fern had on a black pant suit and the light pink scarf I’d brought back from France for her. Gina was her wild hippie self in a long flowing halter dress that showed off her curves. I was in my black Paul Smith jumpsuit. My hair was down, and I wore a long simple gold necklace to match my equally golden strappy heels.

  The food wasn’t phenomenal, but that wasn’t the point. We were three women out for some innocent fun and there to enjoy each other’s company. The tables around us may have assumed Fern was our grandmother, but it would have been the furthest thing from the truth. She was one of us. Equal parts entertainment and trusted friend.

  After the meal and before the music, I zoned out of the conversation and thought about the women around me. Each one represented a part of my life I loved, and I wouldn’t have traded them for the world.

  The lights lowered as the band took the stage.

  “I know that guy.” I nudged Gina and pointed to the bass player.

  “Really? How?”

  “Through Jake. He’s the bartender at our favorite taco place, and they used to be in a band together. He was actually telling Jake about this band the last time we ate there.”

  “Small world.” Gina shrugged.

  It was like the music had been chosen for Fern. There were jazz standards, Harry Connick Jr. covers, and a few modern pieces rearranged to fit the big band style. We bopped in our seats, snapped our fingers, and shimmied to the music. The ambience was light, happy, and easy. When a slower song came on, an older gentleman asked Fern to dance, and Gina and I squeed in delight as he spun her around the small dance floor.

  The band finished, and I was about to flag the waiter down to pay the check when the bass player—and maker of my favorite margaritas—Andy, came back onstage and said into the microphone, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have one more song for you tonight, and it’s dedicated to Miss Louana Higgins.”