My Song For You (Pushing Limits Book 2)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  Callie moved her hips, setting her own pace and rhythm, slow and teasing. She wasn’t the only one who could tease. My fingers found her clit and I stroked her, relishing each oh-God-I’m-going-to-come-soon noise that she made.

  “That feels so good,” she moaned.

  Agreed.

  The pace continued, pushing me closer and closer to the edge—but not quite far enough. I removed my finger from her clit, grabbed her hips, and set a faster, rougher pace, taking care not to push myself over the edge before she was ready.

  Just as I thought I couldn’t last any longer, Callie’s muscles clamped down on me. “Jared,” she groaned.

  Her husky voice, the sight of her heated pussy devouring my length, and the strength of her muscles milking me for all their worth finally did me in. The powerful orgasm rocketed through me, intense enough to alter the trajectory of the earth around the sun. If the world suffered from a massive malfunction, I was to blame. “Fuck, Callie,” I grunted.

  Once I regained enough of my senses, I shifted so she was under me and kissed her. Just a light touch of the lips. “Christ, that was amazing.” We were amazing together, but was it enough?

  After disposing of the condom, I curled my body around hers and kissed her shoulder.

  As I cuddled with her, a realization hit—I was fucked.

  Purely and simply fucked.

  And not necessarily in a good way, if my heart had anything to say about it.

  28

  Jared

  Once Callie was asleep, I slipped out of her bed, careful not to wake her.

  Ever since my relationship with Alexis, I’d pretty much kept my distance from the dating scene. Yes, there had been Lisa, a girl I’d dated for a month, who was responsible for Nolan and me becoming friends. And then there was Tiffany. But otherwise I hadn’t bothered.

  I’d thought my heart was safe. The occasional screwing of random women didn’t put it at risk. Even with Tiffany, it had never been at risk. We were too different.

  But somehow things felt the opposite with Callie, and I had no idea why. Sure, she was a friend. Sure, she was the one who had been looking after my son for all these years. Sure, she was sexy as hell and didn’t realize it. But bit by bit, Callie had become a major part of my life and I had no idea what to do about it.

  I returned to my apartment, but for the first time since Nolan moved out to live with Hailey, the space felt lonely and unwelcoming.

  I needed a pet.

  Maybe a nice fish.

  After watching TV for a while, I finally crashed in bed. The sun was streaming through the blinds when I woke up a few hours later. At first I had no idea where I was, as dreams of a naked Callie paraded through my head. With a morning wood to rival all others, I reached out to her side of the bed to discover that not only was it empty, the sheets were cool.

  I opened my eyes and disappointment greeted me at the sight of my furniture. My queen-sized bed. The bookshelf. The nightstand. The dark green armchair Mom had given me after she and Dad bought a new one. My favorite guitar in the corner. Notebooks, pencils, blank sheet music spread out on the floor, waiting for my muse to strike.

  Band practice wasn’t for four more hours. Even though I usually went for a run as soon as I got up in the morning, I had the sudden urge to play around with a song I’d been working on. I picked up my guitar, not bothering to take the time to shower first. I’d long since learned that when the creative urge hit, you didn’t ignore it to do something else first.

  But instead of the song I’d been working on, lyrics for a different one seeped into my head. I didn’t doubt for a second who the inspiration was behind these words—I just didn’t get why I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  I’d been working for two hours when the creative flow decided to pack it up for the morning, replaced by a restlessness I hadn’t experienced since bumping into Callie and Logan at the grocery store. I pulled on my running shorts and T-shirt and finally hit the road. I ran long and hard, but it still wasn’t enough. All I could think about was Callie, about the taste of her and how she responded to my touch. All I could think about was how much I missed her.

  I returned home an hour later, panting and drenched with sweat—but with a plan. Callie and I were seeing where things were headed between us, and how we worked together when it came to Logan. There were no expectations, which I was more than fine with, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t cook her dinner. She and Logan had to eat. It was the least I could do.

  I called Callie at work to tell her I wanted to spend the day with Logan. Sharon had returned to looking after him again while Callie was at the diner, but until I was back on tour, I wanted to spend more time with him.

  “Do you want to pick him up from preschool?” she asked breathlessly. In the background, the clatter of dishes and someone calling out an order to the cook could be heard.

  I told her yes, and she promised to call Sharon to tell her the new plan. “I’m sure she won’t complain,” she said. “Some of her friends attend a local aquacise class, and now she can join them.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but as long as I got to spend more time with my son, I didn’t care.

  “See you later” was all Callie had time for before she ended the call—and I was left missing the sound of her voice.

  I arrived at Logan’s preschool. Tony showed up a minute later. “Just the guy I wanted to talk to,” he said. He didn’t have a chance, though, to tell me what he wanted to talk to me about, as just then the kids filed out of their classroom, and Logan rushed over to me and gave me a big hug.

  “Hey, big guy,” I said. “You want to hang out with me until your mom gets off work?”

  “Yes!”

  “I have band practice, but Hailey’s going to bring Rocky to visit after we’re done.”

  His face lit up, as it always did at the mention of the puppy.

  Outside, Tony and I watched the boys climb the slide ladder, huge smiles on their faces.

  “I mentioned Callie to a friend of mine and he’s interested in meeting her,” he said. “I can vouch for him. He’s a great guy. He’s widowed with a two-year-old daughter. His wife died more than a year ago from cancer.”

  That explained why Tony had asked the other week about my relationship with Callie. He had planned to hook her up with his friend even back then.

  Jealousy and anger gnawed at my stomach. Not just because he was trying to hook them up, but because I couldn’t tell the world that she was mine. We were keeping things secret for Logan’s sake, but damned if I would let Tony continue to think that she was available. “She just started dating someone. Sorry.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Yeah, isn’t it?

  Once we were finished at the playground, I drove Logan to a nearby mall. “Maybe it’s time to get you some new pajamas,” I said to him as we wandered through the outdoor space. The sun shone intensely, but a cool breeze kept the air from getting too hot. “Yours are too small now that you’re getting to be a big boy.” Callie had already tried to buy him new ones, but he hadn’t jumped at the idea. “Maybe we can find you new Spider-Man ones.”

  He pouted. “I like my pajamas.”

  “I know you do, but I bet we can find even better ones.”

  He shrugged, clearly not convinced that a better pair could possibly exist. But after contemplating for a few seconds, he nodded. “Okay.”

  A short time later, we left the kids’ clothing store with two pairs of pajamas. One had Spider-Man on them. The other pair had solid green pants and a brown cartoon dog on the top.

  As we continued wandering through the mall, six teenage girls approached, giggling.

  “Hi,” the tallest girl said. “You’re with Pushing Limits, right?”

  “That’s right,” I replied.

  “We love your music. When’s your next album coming out?”

  I smiled because it never grew old hearing fans tell me they loved the band’s music. I hoped the
day never came when they said the opposite. “In just over three weeks.”

  “Are you playing any concerts in L.A.?”

  “Concert dates will be announced soon,” I said, following the script our publicist had given us. The name of the band we were opening for was still locked in a wooden box buried twelve feet under LS Records. They were keeping it a secret on purpose. Something to do with generating buzz. Even we had no idea who we were opening for.

  “Can we get your autograph?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  The girls all magically produced the band’s debut CD from their purses.

  “You carry the CD everywhere you go?” I asked. Never seen that before.

  “No,” said a redheaded girl with freckles splattered on her nose, and my thoughts instantly went to Callie. I had always loved her freckles, even when she hated them as a kid. “We saw you walking through the mall. Joanne followed you so that we didn’t lose you while the rest of us rushed to the store to buy your album. We were hoping you’d sign them for us.” She removed an assortment of Sharpies from her purse.

  I started signing them, chatting with the girls at the same time. At one point I glanced down to make sure Logan was still okay. He wasn’t there. I scanned the area, calling out his name, only to remember that he couldn’t hear me if he had wandered out of hearing range. Fuck.

  Realizing I had lost Logan and he could be anywhere, fear snaked into my body and squeezed my vital organs hard. The mall was an outdoor shopping center, which meant Logan could easily leave. And if he tried to cross the street—

  “What’s wrong?” the redhead asked.

  “My . . . the boy who was with me, he’s missing.” I started to walk away but then stopped. There was no way I could cover the mall on my own.

  “Can you help me find him?” I showed them his picture on my phone.

  “Wow, he’s cute,” the tall girl said. “Is he your little brother?”

  “Yes.” I gave them my phone number so they could text me if they found him. They ran off in different directions, including toward the mall exits.

  Where the hell was mall security when you needed them? I thought.

  And what kind of asshole father loses his four-year-old son in a mall?

  I ducked into another kids’ clothing store and searched between the racks and displays. One of Logan’s favorite games was hide-and-seek.

  “Can I help you find something?” a woman in her early fifties asked.

  “I’m looking for my four-year-old son.”

  She didn’t belong in the band’s demographics, so chances were good she had no idea who I was. There would be no tweets going out that I had a son, nor would it go viral that I had lost said son.

  I showed her the picture on my smartphone.

  “Sorry, I haven’t seen him. Let me call mall security for you.”

  “Okay, but I don’t have time to wait for them.” I gave her my number so they could call me, and rushed out of the store.

  My phone pinged, and I read the message. Found him!!!!! He’s in the toy store.

  The store was across the plaza from where I was standing. I sprinted across the beige stone and entered the small store. In the corner, next to a shelf full of stuffed animals, the redhead was kneeling next to Logan and talking to him.

  “Thank you,” I said, working to catch my breath.

  “You’re welcome.” She stood up.

  Logan held up a stuffed dog that resembled Rocky. “Puppy.”

  I squatted and hugged him hard. “It’s a very nice puppy. But Logan, you can’t just wander off like that. Next time, you need to tell me if you want to go somewhere.”

  “You busy.” He hugged the toy.

  “No matter what, you always come first.”

  Because I owed the girl and her friends big-time, I asked for her address so I could send them signed posters of the band. It was the least I could do. Logan was still hugging the toy puppy by the time I had finished talking to her.

  “I know he’s not a real dog,” I said, “but would you like him?”

  He held the puppy tighter. “Yes.”

  “Yes what?” I even managed to sign it as I said it. Although after I almost lost Logan, I doubt my growing signing ability would impress Callie.

  Logan considered that for a second. “Thank you.”

  We arrived at Mason’s loft a short time later. “How’s my little man?” Mas held up his hand to high-five Logan, who had to jump up to reach it. It had become a routine with those two. “Who’s this?” Mason asked, pretending to pat Logan’s toy.

  “My dog,” Logan said proudly, and waited for the rest of the band to do the same as Mason. I grinned at the sight of four grown men fussing over a stuffed toy as if it were a real puppy.

  Four grown men, one with green dye on his hands. “You wanna explain why you have green hands?” I asked Aaron, although I already had my suspicions.

  They were confirmed when he glared pointedly at Mason.

  Mas snickered. “Well, you did complain that house plants die at the sight of you. I just thought I’d help you out.”

  Kirk snorted a laugh. “The term is ‘green thumb,’ drummer boy. Not ‘green hands.’”

  “Hi, Jared,” a female voice said from the far side of the room, its owner already bored with the guys’ typical antics. The husky sound of it would’ve left most men sporting a hard-on—but for once, it did nothing for me. I hadn’t even noticed Tiffany when Logan and I entered the room.

  Looking like she belonged in the sparsely yet expensively furnished loft, she sashayed her way over, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pressed her body against mine. “I’ve missed you, love.”

  “How did you know I’d be here?” I unhooked her arms from around me and walked over to Mason’s fridge. Unlike mine, it wasn’t covered in Logan’s latest artwork. But it did have one of Logan’s pictures of what could’ve been Mason on the drums . . . if you used your imagination.

  The guys continued to discuss Mason’s latest prank, much to the amusement of Logan. He was giggling so hard at Aaron’s brightly colored hands, I thought he might fall over.

  Tiffany joined me by the fridge. She had called last week to tell me she was in town and couldn’t wait to see me, but this was the first time I’d actually seen her since our last breakup.

  “I was nearby for a charity luncheon,” she explained, “and I knew you’d be practicing.”

  “And so you just showed up?” I grabbed a can of soda and an apple juice from the fridge.

  She smiled as I popped open the soda. “I was hoping to see Mason. He’s always good for the latest band gossip.”

  That I did know. Mason had a bad habit of accidentally letting things slip. If you didn’t want something to go public, you avoided mentioning it to him. It was also why he wasn’t allowed on our social media sites. Aaron and I were the ones who had always done it, but at our last meeting with the label’s publicist, Jennifer had recommended we hire an assistant to maintain our social media updates. Now we just needed an assistant. Preferably one that Mason didn’t try to get inside of within the first five minutes of meeting her.

  “And what band gossip did he tell you?” I gulped down some soda.

  “That you have a son.”

  Soda spewed from my mouth, narrowly missing her. It hit the fridge instead.

  “Classy,” Mason said, laughing.

  Fortunately Logan was on the couch, talking to Nolan, and didn’t hear her.

  “Is it true?” she asked. “Is he your son?” She jerked her head in Logan’s direction.

  “I haven’t made that public yet”—I glared at Mason—“but yeah, he’s my son.” I kept my voice low, the implication behind the tone clear.

  “He is?” Mason asked, taken aback. I don’t think I could have shocked him more than if I had shoved an electric eel down his pants. “I was just kidding when I said he was your son the other day. But I guess that does explain why you two look so alike.”
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br />   He started walking toward the couch. I grabbed his arm. “Logan doesn’t know yet, so don’t say anything. I’m waiting for the right time to break the news to him.”

  “Well, I suggest you don’t wait until just before we leave on tour. And don’t worry, I won’t mention it to anyone.” He mimed locking his mouth shut and tossing the key, then walked away to join Logan and Nolan.

  “So . . . who’s his mother?” Tiffany asked.

  “You don’t know her.” True enough.

  “Are you seeing her?”

  I came close to saying yes, but since Callie and I had agreed to keep our relationship a secret for now, I wasn’t about to break my part of the agreement. Telling Tony earlier that she was dating someone didn’t count. It had been done for the greater good. “It’s complicated.”

  She must have understood “it’s complicated” to mean no because she responded, “Good. Does he live with you?”

  “Nope. He still lives with his mom.”

  Tiffany stepped closer. Less than a foot separated us. “How come you never told me you have a son?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  She frowned. “Then how do you know he’s yours?”

  “You mean beyond the part where he looks a lot like me? I had a paternity test done.”

  “So you have joint custody?”

  “Not yet. I wasn’t listed on the birth certificate, but my lawyer is working on correcting that.” Well, he would be as soon as I decided if I wanted to share custody with Callie or if I would seek to have full custody of my son. There were pros and cons with either choice.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if the mother had full custody? You’re on the road a lot, and if you decide to settle down one day, it would make things easier for everyone—especially Logan—if you weren’t bouncing the poor child between parents.”

  “Is that what happened to you?”

  She laughed. “What gave you the idea my parents are divorced?”

  “You just seem to know a lot about it.”

  She inched closer to me. I stepped back. My hip bumped against the counter.