After Care

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Hey, Tommy,” she said, waving weakly.

  “Hey, girlie.” A smile returned to his tone as he addressed my daughter. He turned back to face me. “I have a surprise for both of you.” His hand released my face and reached for my hand. His other hand reached out for my luggage. “Masie, honey. Grab your bag.”

  “Wait a minute,” David demanded, standing before the open door, his back to it with hands on his hips. He looked like a retired superhero: overworked, underwhelming. “Just who are you?”

  “I’m Tommy Carrigan,” he stated proudly, looking back at me. “Her boyfriend.” My mouth fell open at the announcement. It was the first declaration of any label between us, and I stared at the side of Tommy’s face as he addressed my ex-husband, who muttered a strangled, “What?”

  I giggled with nerves, tightening my hold on Tommy, so I wouldn’t break into hysteria at the awkwardness of this introduction.

  “And where do you think you are taking her?” David inquired louder, and I laughed outright at the inquisition. He sounded fatherly, like he wasn’t. Not to mention, it was none of his damn business.

  “She’s coming to my room. I have space for Masie, too.”

  “My daughter is not sleeping with a stranger.”

  “Good thing I’m not a stranger.” Tommy glanced at me after this remark. “Why am I gettin’ the feeling he’s never heard of me, Edie?” The use of my name was not a good sign, but his fingers squeezed mine.

  “I don’t really talk to David,” I offered, ignoring the glare of my ex-husband. The truth was, I didn’t, and because of that, I didn’t feel the need to explain my boyfriend to my ex-husband. Tommy’s lip twisted, and I sensed this conversation wasn’t finished, but he let it rest for the moment. He turned to Masie.

  “I have a suite with separate rooms, so I hope you’d feel comfortable in that space.”

  Masie reached for her suitcase, and Tommy had his answer. For a moment, my heart pinched for David. His fists fell from his hips at the betrayal. Even his daughter didn’t want to stay in a room with him. I worried for a moment the rejection would send him to alcohol for solace, but I couldn’t let myself be concerned. I closed my eyes, reminding myself that David had made his choices, and they didn’t include his family. I could not take responsibility for his decision to drink. I’d already bore that burden, and I had learned to let it go

  “Let’s meet in the lobby at seven for dinner, okay, Dad?” Masie offered as way of a peace offering. David nodded and stepped back. Tommy passed first, holding onto my hand as if I’d slip away from him. As I passed David, he reached for my arm, and I stopped.

  “Are you sure about this?” David’s eyes shifted to Tommy, assessing him. If I could read his thoughts, I imagined he asked what a woman like me saw in a man like him. Silvered hair, longish to his collar. A ring on his forefinger and those bracelets on his wrist. Tattoos lacing up his arm. Looking from Tommy to David, I answered: “I’ve never been more certain in my life.”

  + + +

  The anger coming off Tommy filled the elevator, and Masie remained quiet as well. Marching down the hotel hallway, single file, I felt like a woman walking to a death sentence, the tension between us heavier than a chain gang rope. On the inside, I rattled with the notion that I’d stood up to David. While I’d done it in the past, the way in which I confidently walked away from him, holding onto Tommy, surprised even me. Previous attempts at defending myself seemed like small victories compared to the battle I just won.

  Tommy opened the door of the suite and stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. A man stood from the couch facing the windows and turned toward us. Long bangs, black hair and bright blue eyes stared at me with a hesitant smile.

  “West?” Masie bumped into me, and the shriek startled me to move. I stepped to the side so my daughter could walk around me and toward Weston Reid. He remained behind the couch, rubbing his hands anxiously up and down his thighs.

  “Hey,” he said on a strangled sound. Masie looked at me, and then she raced around the couch, nearly catapulting toward West, who laughed as he caught her. The two stood in an embrace, swaying back and forth for a moment before Masie broke the hold. A hand pressed into my back.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Tommy murmured. “He wanted to see her.”

  “What are you doing here?” Masie’s voice rose with her excitement as she stared at West.

  “Tommy said he was coming to surprise Edie, and I asked if I could tag along. We’ve been so busy but Tommy told Gage to give me a few days off. Plus, I wanted to see Caleb play,” West replied, reaching out to stroke a long lock of Masie’s hair.

  “Oh my God, Caleb,” I said, covering my mouth and turning toward Tommy. “I need to call him.” I fumbled for my phone, struggling through the mess in my bag and retrieving it from the bottom of the abyss. It was then that I saw Tommy’s response to my room number.

  Surprise.

  My brow pinched. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “But I guess I’m the one surprised.”

  “I can explain,” I offered, hating the taste of those words in my mouth. After a deep exhale, and a hand down his face, Tommy replied: “I was hoping so, but first, the suite has two rooms. I was thinking West would have one and I’d have the other, but I’ll understand if you and Masie want to share.”

  Tommy looked sheepishly at Masie and back at me. “I don’t think the hotel has other rooms available, but I can look into it,” he added.

  “Masie can have my room, and I can take the couch,” West sweetly offered.

  “This is all my fault,” I muttered, a moment after realizing West implied I’d be sleeping with Tommy in the other room. I couldn’t do this in front of my daughter.

  “Because you didn’t tell me you were staying with your ex-husband?”

  “Because I didn’t know I was staying with my ex-husband. I knew better than to trust David to handle everything.” I swiped a hand over my longer hair. I’d had it cut again into a stylish swipe, longer at the bangs but still trimmed up the back. Tommy’s eyes roamed over my hair.

  “I like it, darlin’,” he said. “You look beautiful.” Without thinking, I stepped toward him, reaching for that scruffy jaw I adored and tugging at his face to draw him to me. It was my turn to capture his lips and kiss him like I’d never let him go.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said after I released him.

  Masie jokingly groaned in the background. “Ewwww, minor here.”

  “I love you,” I mouthed to his handsome face. The curl to the corner of his mouth told me I was forgiven, for the moment.

  16

  Declarations of Commitment

  We passed on dinner with David and Masie, for obvious reasons, and West went in my place. While I initially thought we would go out to dinner, Tommy opted to stay in and ordered room service. When it arrived, I set my phone on the table, but it vibrated against the surface.

  I can’t believe you are allowing this. The text from David didn’t surprise me. Most issues, according to him, were my fault. My thoughts deepened to decide he meant the sleeping arrangement, and guilt ate at my stomach that Masie had to fight my battle with her father.

  Tommy set the serving plates on the small dining table and poured me some wine. Looking over at me, he asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, just David.”

  Thick hands set the bottle down and reached for the phone in my hand. He glanced at the text and then tossed my phone toward the couch.

  “Talk to me, not him,” he demanded. Instantly, I sensed we were headed for a heavy discussion, and I took my seat. Taking a hearty sip of wine, I glared over the rim to find Tommy watching me. “I’m biting my tongue, darlin’, but it’s starting to ache.”

  “I know,” I said, lowering my head, staring at my plate. “But I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t what? Bite my tongue? I’d like to bite yours, but only once I have
answers,” he teased without humor.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Why doesn’t he know about me?”

  “I told you, I don’t talk to David. We don’t share these things.”

  “Like that you have a boyfriend?”

  “I definitely do not discuss dating with my ex-husband,” I snipped, my voice harsh, and my heartrate rising. “Besides, I didn’t know you considered yourself my boyfriend until you told him.”

  Tommy slid his chair sideways, angling his body toward me.

  “I told you I love you. What did you think that meant?”

  “I don’t know,” I muttered, shrugging my shoulder and flipping the fork on a linen napkin back and forth for something to do. A thick hand covered mine, enveloping it, and then tugging me towards him. He patted his thigh, and I stumbled onto his lap.

  “Darlin’, those three words are treasure, not a rash statement to get in your pants. If I say them, I mean them, and that means I’m committed to you. Do you understand me? I’m not saying them casually, not saying them to get you in my bed, which I miss, by the way. I’m saying them because I feel them.” He took my hand and pulled it up to his chest, pressing it against the firm pec that thumped under my touch. “Do you not feel the same, beautiful?” His voice lowered as did our collective hands and sadness coated the words.

  “I do feel the same, it’s just…” Liquid filled my eyes and the emotion of the altercation with David caught up to me.

  “Just what?” His voice hardened, fear mixed with irritation.

  “I don’t like the separation. I don’t want to sound needy or desperate, but I just want someone more present. I know we talk all the time. And I love the attention you give me. But I just thought…I thought if I ever dated again it would be with someone within the same state as me.” I sighed, feeling like I’d said too much but relieved a little to let the weight off my shoulders.

  “Why haven’t you said something before?” he asked, shifting me on his thigh and I decided my weight was too much for him. I scooted off his lap and sat facing him again. My hands reached for his knees.

  “I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t. But this is hard for me. You’re so busy, with a crazy schedule and night life, and I don’t know what you’re doing—”

  “I tell you what I’m doing,” he snapped, and I started at the curt sound in his throat.

  “I know, but what I mean is…aren’t you lonely without me?” My voice broke on the question, fear filling me that he wasn’t lonely because he filled the absence with others. A traitorous tear dripped off my nose.

  “Edie.” He exhaled. “I think maybe I’m used to being alone. I can’t say I like it, but I can handle it because I’ve been alone for so long. I’m not attached.” At the words, I pulled back my hands.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, reaching out for me, catching my fingers before I sat back. “I mean, I wasn’t attached to anyone, so I would come and go without concentrating on the loneliness. My life centered around the band. But having you in my life has changed all that. I’m shifting, darlin’. I miss you like a piece of me is missing each time we say good-bye or hang up the phone or go too many hours without speaking. It’s a strange feeling, Edie, but one I don’t want to give up, even if it’s all I get.”

  Another tear fell, uninhibited this time.

  “I wish we were closer, darlin’, I do, but for now, it has to be as it is.” I nodded. He was right. I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He’d joked about me moving to California. The sunshine. The mild temperature. Him. But I never took the teasing as a bona fide offer. “I wish you’d told me how you felt. You don’t have to hold back with me.”

  I snorted unattractively.

  “What is that?” Tommy demanded.

  “Tommy, why are you even with me? You could have anyone. Someone more like Deanna Kaye.”

  He released my hands and sat back, staring at me a moment.

  “Darlin’, do you think I didn’t notice how your ex sized me up? I don’t give two shits about him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read his thoughts. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you. Do you know how that makes me feel? How I know he’s right in a million ways? My world is upside-down and backward most days, with shit I’d never want your innocent heart to see or bear. I question why you’re with me just as much. The only thing I’m confident of is it’s not because I’m a former rock star or affiliated with Collision. You’ve already proved that to me with your atrocious musical knowledge.” His eyes sparkled, and his face relaxed. “So, what do I have to do to prove to you that I want only you? That I’m sitting in Arizona, fighting with you over your worth, because you are worth everything to me, huh?”

  More tears fell and I swiped at my cheeks. I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like I had a checklist. I just had trouble accepting what we were doing, but I realized I was wasting precious time when we were together by having this conversation. I reached for his hand and tugged him toward me. He leaned forward, his eyes aiming for my lips, but as he got close, I stood.

  “Darlin’?”

  I gently yanked at his hand and stepped forward, guiding him to follow me. A few more steps, and I was suddenly scooped up into his arms. Kicking my legs and laughing as my arms wrapped around his neck, we were almost to his room when the main door of the suite opened.

  “Get a room,” West teased, Masie bumping into his back.

  “I have one,” Tommy hollered, but something in my face must have told him I couldn’t do this with Masie in the room. I couldn’t let him take me to his room with my daughter watching us.

  “Put me down, please,” I whispered. He stopped and set me on my feet.

  “Maybe you’re embarrassed of me after all, darlin’,” he muttered as he spun away from me and returned to the table. Sitting down, he dug into a cold dinner while I’d completely lost my appetite.

  + + +

  West and Masie left shortly after their return as West said he knew somewhere he could take Masie that didn’t require her to be carded. As soon as they left I was on Tommy, literally. The door closed and I crossed the suite to straddle him, gripping his face, nails dragging through his salt-and-pepper scruff.

  “Don’t ever say that again,” I growled, trying to tease down my serious tone. “I am not embarrassed by you, and I don’t know why you would even say that. But I need you to respect that I’m not a groupie, and I’m not like the boys in the band. I can’t run off in front of a group, knowing that they know I’m about to have sex with you. And I especially can’t do it in front of my daughter.”

  His hands curled around my wrists, and he tugged out of my grip.

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have said that. I was…frustrated.” His mouth came to mine too briefly, and as he pulled back, I cupped his cheeks again.

  “Well, time to un-frustrate.” My mouth came to his and demanded he open for me, swiping across the seam of his lips and begging his tongue to play with mine. He kissed me back, opening for me as he gripped my hips and pulled me fully onto his lap. His hunger built and mine matched. I was starving for him.

  Standing, I held out my hand, leading him once again toward the bedroom. Within seconds, he was before me, tugging me along and slamming the door, flipping the lock.

  “I’m not taking chances this time.” My shirt was over my head by his hands, and my fingers worked his belt buckle and zipper. We crossed the room disrobing one another until my knees hit the bed, and he pushed me backward. I scooted up the mattress, and he followed like a predator after prey. When my head hit the pillows, I stopped, and he lowered over me. His mouth found mine as he positioned himself at my entrance, but I pressed his shoulders, hinting that I wanted him to roll to his back. He flipped us, and my legs spread, straddling over him. I sat back and held him upright, stroking him.

  “Darlin’, if you don’t get me inside you, I’m gonna explode all over your hand.” Giggling,
I pressed up on my knees, balanced on his tip, and then slammed down to envelop him. We groaned in unison as my hands came to his abs. Slowly, I rolled over him, developing a rhythm that held him deep within me. His hand slipped between us and his thumb caught me, pressing in a circular motion. Something came over me, and my hips rocked faster, my channel clenched harder, and my eyes closed with the sensation of losing control. Tension rolled off of me, and a new tension built. His name became a litany of hyperventilating puffs of air mixed with the struggle to cry his name.

  My toes curled, and my thighs clamped at his hips. I held still and threw back my head. The release was sweet and spiraling, and I was still coming when he sat forward and flipped me to my back. Braced on his hands, he hammered into me, thrusting and delving, wild and reckless like we hadn’t been before. “Faster” and “harder” crossed my lips in a whisper. “Fuck, darlin’,” crossed his. The bed squeaked with the rapid motion, and the headboard banged on the wall. He stilled, and that internal pulse of his release set me off again. My hands gripped the globes of his ass, forcing him to remain inside me. Moments later, he collapsed on top of me.

  “Sweet Jesus, that came from my toes,” he muttered into my neck. I giggled, as I understood the feeling. “I don’t like to fight with you, darlin’, but if that’s how we make up, I’ll fight you every day for the rest of our lives.”

  “How about if we don’t fight and just make love like that the rest of our lives?” A moment passed as the words lingered, the reality of their meaning settling around us like pillow feathers floating to the bed. Tommy’s head popped up and he stared down at me.

  “I’d make love to you the rest of our lives, if you’d let me,” he whispered.

  “I’d let you,” my quiet voice answered. I’d let him have anything he wanted if he kept looking at me the way he was in that moment—like the rest of our lives was everything he wanted.