“We don’t have a song.”
“We do now.”
I got him on the floor and reached up, my hands linking behind his neck. His hands went to my hips, drawing me closer. The song had already started to play. The heavy thud of a piano echoed through the near-empty bar. Stay by Rihanna.
“Addy,” Warren whispered, body swaying. His cheek brushed mine.
“War,” I whispered back.
“I love you so much, baby,” he said, lips against the shell of my ear.
I rubbed my nose into his shirt, inhaling his scent. I didn’t want to look up at him. Didn’t want him to see my face, the fear etched there. I’d been fooling myself, thinking I could keep Warren at arm’s length, thinking I could let him go. Warren was in me, deep, like blood and bone, had been ever since he stole my first kiss at age seventeen. A part of me still didn’t trust him. But a bigger part of me was self-destructive, and it overrode my niggling sense of self-preservation.
“If time is what you need, it’s what you’ll get. I’ll be patient,” he said. I knew it was killing him to say those words, to promise something he was so unwilling to give.
Something in me ignited. I gripped him tighter and drew my head up to meet his shadowed eyes. “Need you, War.”
“You have me, baby,” he said, echoing his words from the other night, when I had been drunk and sad, devastated over Billy and Daisy’s pregnancy. “You always have me.” He kissed me, soft and sweet. Then his mouth moved, traveling over my neck, my jaw, my ear. Warren groaned. “Let’s go home.”
“No,” I said. “I can’t wait. Here. Now.”
“Fuuuck.” Warren drew the word out on one long breath. Then I was being pulled off the dance floor. Warren barked for Kelly to, “Stay.” My murse must have figured our intent, because he didn’t budge. Warren burst through a back door and we were in a dark alley, save for a single street light.
My clingy hands grabbed for Warren, drawing his shirt up so I could feel his burning flesh beneath my fingertips. Warren advanced until I was flat against the brick wall. His knee moved, jutting between my legs. He palmed a breast. I threw a leg up and around his hips, grinding into him. My jean skirt bunched around my hips. His big, hot body pressed into me. I could feel his cock, pushing against his zipper. Our lips mashed together, tongues tangled, teeth knocking against each other’s. His hand moved from my hip and over my panties, rubbing against me. I rocked, seeking the friction, the relief his touch provided. He shifted on his feet. His other hand went to his fly, unzipping it. His cock sprang free. He stroked it once. The tip nudged against the fabric of my panties.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered.
“Not God, baby. Warren.” He pushed my panties aside. Why did his arrogance turn me on? Then he was sinking inside me, moving in and out at a slow pace. Not satisfied, I tugged at his hair, demanding a rougher touch. Warren groaned and picked up the pace, pounding into me.
We were fucking. But it was something else, too. Making love. The rhythm of two bodies meant to be together. My other leg left the ground, both legs now wrapped around his hips. He held me easily, big hands on my ass. His mouth sought out mine. It felt like the beginning and end of all things—the start of a new relationship and the halt of a long-fought war. A truce. I held on tight as Warren rode me. My back scraped against the brick wall. My legs felt like Jell-O. I moaned. I whimpered. I gasped. Everything inside of me tensed. His cock drove deep, grinding against my clit. I ignited. My fingernails dug into his back as the orgasm wrenched through me. Warren came with a shudder. He stilled against me, our deep breaths in sync. I could feel the thud of his heart against my palm. My legs unhooked from around his waist. I stood back on my own two feet, lethargic and dreamy. Warren buried his face in my hair.
Crickets chirped in the alley. Moths buzzed in the lamplight. All very romantic, except for the smell. There must have been a dumpster nearby. “You okay?” Warren asked, voice gruff.
I nodded. “I’m good. That was…”
“Yeah, I know.” He smiled.
The door banged open. Warren moved to cover me. “You guys decent?” Ash called out, hand covering his eyes. Derren and Kelly stepped into the alley, gazes downcast. Lix held up his phone, flashlight on and directed at us.
“Turn that off, asshole,” Warren commanded.
Over Warren’s shoulder, Lix pouted. “I was hoping to see some T and A, man.”
I wiggled my skirt down. Warren zipped up his fly. “How’s your ass, D?” he asked.
Derren grimaced. “It hurts. The guy gave me a donut to sit on for the next couple days.”
I covered my mouth to keep a laugh from spilling forth. But my joy was cut short. My panties were still wet. Too wet. Warren hadn’t used a condom.
Warren slept but I stayed awake, watching him like some kind of creeper. My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could just make out Warren’s face. He looked so serious while he slept, a cross between cranky and annoyed. I wondered what he dreamt about.
I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest, and leaned against the headboard. Thoughts and questions plagued me. I couldn’t stop my brain from racing. Was I really starting to trust Warren again? How was I going to tell Billy about us? How did I feel about Daisy’s pregnancy now? My closet of secrets was in need of a good airing out. I needed to come clean about everything, including what had really happened after I left Europe. How my case of the stomach flu had turned into something more serious. A baby. Warren’s baby. I rubbed my forehead. We’d been careless tonight. I’d been careless back then too.
I’d slept most of the ten-hour flight home. Lily was at my side, plying me with water and food and over-the-counter drugs. “You’ve got a fever, Addy,” I remembered her saying through my sleepy haze. “You need liquids.”
I curled in my seat, stomach cramping. Sweat dotted my brow. My heart was broken and now it seemed my body was following suit.
The minute we landed, I couldn’t deboard the plane fast enough. “I think I need to go the hospital,” I told Lily.
“C’mon,” Lily said, checking her phone. “Gabe’s waiting for us. He’ll know what to do.”
I followed Lily to baggage claim where Gabe waited, a sign in his hands, his heart on his sleeve. When he saw me his smile faded. “Addy?” He dropped the sign and ran toward me just as I collapsed.
I woke up in the hospital, Gabe at my side, Lily staring vacantly out the window. “Hey,” Gabe said, easing up and taking my hand.
I licked my dry lips. “What’s going on? What happened?”
Gabe hung his head. “You fainted at the airport. An ambulance came and everything happened so fast.” He shook his head like he couldn’t go on, like it physically pained him to say anything else.
Lily stepped forward. “You were pregnant, Addy. That’s why you’ve been so sick.”
The words registered slowly. “Were pregnant?” Involuntarily, my hand caressed my flat stomach, the absence of life there.
My best friend nodded. She was pale. Dark half-moon shadows hung under her eyes. “The pregnancy was ectopic. The baby was growing in your left Fallopian tube. They had to do emergency surgery to remove it.” Lily smiled encouragingly. “They only had to remove the tube, you didn’t have to have a full hysterectomy.”
My mouth opened and then closed. How could I feel such a sudden sense of loss for something I hadn’t even known I had?
“We should call Billy,” Gabe said. That was when I noticed the cell phone clutched in his hand.
“He’s wanted to call your dad since the airport. I convinced him to wait and see what you wanted,” Lily said, hand curling around Gabe’s forearm.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t want Billy to know.”
“Addy—”
I curled up in the bed, facing away from Gabe and Lily, their silent support. “Don’t call Billy.”
Lily spoke up. “What about War—”
Tears leaked from my eyes. “No Warren. Don’t mention either to me again.
”
Gabe sighed. Lily sat on the bed. Then after a time she lay down, her arm going around me. I clutched her hand. I cried. And she cried with me.
I stayed in the hospital a few more days. Gabe was there when I checked out. Neither of them mentioned Warren or my father again. Both called multiple times. I changed my number and called Billy back, feeding him some bullshit about losing my phone. I got an apartment in New York and started school—what I was supposed to have been doing while on tour with Warren. The pain of losing Warren and the baby lessened. It wasn’t true what people say—that time heals all wounds. Some wounds don’t heal, but they do scar over, hurt a little less.
“Addy, it’s four o’clock in the fucking morning.” Warren’s sleep-filled voice jolted me from my thoughts.
“You’re awake?” I asked, peering down at him.
Warren stretched, putting his hands under his head. “Your staring woke me up.”
I licked my lips, feeling the sudden need to purge myself of all my secrets, all my sins. “I hate this house.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Apparently, I wasn’t quite as ready as I thought to tell Warren about the baby. Everything seemed so good between us now. We’d made love again on coming home. I wanted to hold onto this feeling for a little longer, this fragile peace.
Warren’s brows drew in. “Fuck, Addy. Tell me how you really feel.”
I lowered myself back down and turned so I faced Warren’s profile. I touched his nose. He jerked away from me. So I stuck my finger in his ear. “Addy, what the fuck?” He slapped my hand away.
I retreated my ear assault and said, “This house doesn’t seem like you.”
“Of course it doesn’t. I bought it for you.”
My hand went to my chest. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. Remember when we were in Rome? You loved the architecture.”
I searched my memory. I’d dragged Warren all over touring ruins. Lily loved art history, and I’d been caught up in her zeal. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, and…” Warren paused.
“And what?” I prodded.
Warren ran a hand down his face. “And I thought if I had a huge house and you saw how well I was doing, you’d come back to me.”
My fist slammed into the mattress. “Oh, my God, if you or Derren mention one more time how you thought I was some money-grubbing whore, I swear I am going to superglue your testicles to your thighs.”
Warren’s hand drifted protectively over his junk. “Jesus, that’s oddly specific.”
“I mean it, War.”
Warren rose up to rest above me on his forearms. He moved a wisp of hair from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. “Don’t glue my testicles to my thighs. I kind of like them right where they are.” I snorted. “And I think you kind of like them right where they are, too.”
“Sometimes,” I said, still in a semi-snit.
“I kind of hate this house, too.”
“You do?”
“It’s too big, too much gold and marble. Derren gave me hell when I bought it but he didn’t hesitate to move in.” I smiled. Derren didn’t like to be alone. Warren kissed my cheeks, my nose and then my eyelids. “First thing tomorrow, this house is going on the market. You can pick out our next place. Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow.”
I wrapped my arms around Warren’s neck, urging him closer. Then I wrapped my legs around his waist, too—encapsulating him in a tight hug. As creepy as it sounded, I kind of wanted to crawl into his skin, burrow underneath it and absorb some of his ever-present confidence. “I’m going to tell Billy about us,” I promised into his neck.
Warren kissed my collarbones. A hand cupped my jaw. “It’ll be all right.”
I nodded, agreeing but not believing. I kept Warren locked in my embrace for a few more minutes, wanting to fuse myself to him so none of the bad stuff could sneak in, so it wouldn’t matter if Billy disapproved and never talked to me again. I’d lost one parent, what was losing one more? I could withstand it. And I’d tell Warren about the baby, too. Soon. Coming clean never felt so good, or so scary.
Water cascaded from the eaves of Warren’s Roman palace. It was raining, which in L.A. meant the apocalypse was nigh. And it sort of felt that way, at least to me. Any minute a limo was due to pick up Warren and take him to the tour buses. Warren had wanted me to ride with him. I’d called a cab instead. We were waiting out front for our respective rides.
Warren paced in front me, frustrated. Of course, he didn’t hesitate to share his aggravation. “I don’t like this, Addy.” His pacing eased, his brow descended into one, unhappy line. Kelly stood nearby, a silent sentinel. I’d gotten used to having him around. He was like my shadow—he heard and saw everything but never spoke of it and in turn, I forgot about his presence.
I trailed my fingers up Warren’s chest to his cheek. “Remember, we’re working on the whole patience and trust thing?” And bossiness and arrogance… oh, well, one step at a time. “Billy will have a heart attack if I show up with you,” I explained to Warren.
He gave me a fierce look. “But you’re going to tell him.” I chewed my lip. In the dark, promises were so easy to make; in the light, they were much harder to keep. A large hand landed on my ass, cupping it, pulling me forward, into War. “During the day you ride with Billy, have your time with him. But I want you on my bus at night.”
Bleep! A horn honked as the limo pulled into the driveway. The sunroof was open and Lix hung out the top of it, banging his hands against the roof.
“That’s my ride,” Warren said, picking up his bag. Millions of dollars earned and War still used the same duffel he’d used on tour in Europe.
“And that’s mine.” Behind the limo, a yellow cab pulled in.
His blue eyes swept mine, followed by a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll see you tonight. Come find me or I’ll find you.”
Kelly brushed past me, loading our things into the cab. I puffed out a bit of air and gave an absent nod. “I’ll find you.”
“Good. Now, come here, give me that mouth.”
I admitted sometimes I liked the bossy thing. War didn’t give me a chance to protest. His lips were against mine. Warren pulled away first. I felt something cold and heavy drop around my neck. In my kiss-induced haze, it took me a moment to realize what Warren had put on me: a simple gold band hung from a chain between my breasts. My wedding ring dangled from it and next to it, another band with a huge solitaire diamond.
I made the cab circle the block a couple times to put some time between Wild Minds’ arrival and mine. When we pulled through the temporary security gate and up to the tour buses, I was the last to arrive. Billy burst from the tour bus, Daisy behind him, calmly rubbing her small baby bump. The fans behind the gate yelled out to Billy, reaching their hands through the slats. Stuffing the chain and rings under my shirt, I alighted from the cab, Kelly in tow. My Scottish security guard-slash-nurse must’ve sensed my emotional upheaval, because he’d stayed quiet the whole ride. Good shadow.
Billy halted. I guessed he was waiting for me to make the first move.
“Hey, Billy.” I smiled and gave a little finger wave. My eyes flashed to Wild Minds’ bus. I wondered if Warren was watching our reunion, scrutinizing it, silently willing me to tell Billy. Was he waiting, anticipating my father’s reaction—eager to see the bottom fall out under Billy’s feet? He doesn’t feel that way anymore, he wants you to be honest because he wants to be together, I chided myself. I’d asked Warren to trust and be patient with me. It wouldn’t be fair not to offer the same.
Billy’s teeth gnashed together as he appraised me. “It’s Dad or Pop.”
“Hi, Daisy,” I said moving forward, hugging her. She smelled like strawberries.
“He’s been worried about you,” she whispered before releasing me.
I ignored that. “How are you feeling?” I asked.
Daisy’s big green eyes grew misty. Her smile was tremulous. It was the first time I’d mentioned the baby without crying or yelli
ng. “Good. We’re renovating the house, getting ready for the baby. Billy didn’t want me around all the construction dust, so we holed up at the Château Marmont. All the room service I could eat.”
My heart clenched like a fist. “That’s good,” I said, managing a steady tone.
“You got nothing to say to your old man, then?” Billy asked, cranky as ever. I frowned at him. What had crawled up his ass?
Daisy’s head bobbed, motioning to the raucous fans. “Perhaps we should take this inside?”
I jerked a nod and headed for the bus, Daisy, Billy and Kelly on my heels. Jett, Chord and Turner were strewn about the luxurious interior. The bus door swung shut, muting the rabid fans. Kelly found something interesting toward the back of the bus. Billy’s band mates were not as considerate. They leaned forward, watching the three of us like it was their job.
Billy threw himself into a chair, leg bouncing, eyes glaring at me.
Daisy chimed in, her smile over-bright. Always the peacemaker. “Your father has quit smoking.”
I arched a brow. “Oh?”
Billy stuck up his nose. “Daisy showed me some shit on second-hand smoke. Who knew?”
I knew. I’d learned all about it from one of my tutors in the fourth grade. Then I’d tried to convince Billy to quit smoking, at least for my benefit. He’d assured me he had a set of iron lungs and since I was his kid, I’d inherited the same. Billy didn’t know shit about biology. My father was so willing to change for Daisy and this new baby. Why hadn’t he been willing to do the same for me?
“That’s good news,” I said. Again I kept my tone steady, reasonable. I couldn’t manage cheery. “I have something to tell you too.” This was it. I was going to say it. Admit to my father that Warren and I were married and had been shacked up for the last two weeks reconnecting. I put a hand to my chest, where the rings rested under my clothes. The feel of the circles strengthened my resolve.
Good Lies (A Wild Minds Novel) Page 16