by Cari Quinn
That could be the only reason for this call. They rarely checked in with her lately, since she’d proven herself to be such an unfit daughter. She’d hoped getting back into school might begin to heal their fractured relationship. In fact, that had been her goal for the better part of six months. And here she was with a sterling chance to write the best, most well-researched paper of her life, and what was she doing?
Getting involved feet over head. Or ass over heart, since those were the two parts of her hurting the most.
She sneaked a glance at West. He’d rolled back on the bed and had propped his arms behind his head. His body was ridiculous. Ink and muscles and miles of tanned skin. But it was what was in his head and heart that really lured her. How considerate he was. The way he made her laugh. How he looked at her and saw who she truly was and never wanted her to change. If anything, he kept doing everything he could to show her he didn’t want her to move too fast or take on too much too soon.
Too late there. Because she’d already fallen overboard and was sinking fast.
Her mother was talking and she wasn’t even listening. She was brooding about West. Shocker.
“What did you say? Sorry, bad connection.”
“It sounds perfectly clear to me, Lauren.” Her mother sighed. “I’m choosing to believe you went on this—this tour to make sure your paper was perfectly sourced the second time around. Not to chase rockstars for drugs and sex.”
“Right about one of those things,” Lauren muttered, clearing her throat. “You know I don’t take drugs, Mother. I don’t even drink. Ever.”
West opened his eyes and lifted his head and she shrugged. She was a wild woman in many ways, what could she say?
“But sexual intercourse with rockstars, that’s now part of your life?”
She could lie, or she could change the subject, or she could tell the truth. “Make it singular and now we’re talking.”
“Lauren Marie.” Her mother sounded simply aghast.
“Mother, I’m three months away from twenty-four. Fucking is not something to be ashamed of.”
Clearly, she’d lost her mind, as proven by the way West was now leaning up on one elbow and grinning. As if he was proud she was swearing at her mother and making sexual confessions.
Well, hell, she was proud of herself, so he should be too.
“And you know what else, Mother? It wasn’t just garden variety—”
“No. You are not going to raise my blood pressure before I’ve even told you the reason for this call. Though I have to wonder if we’re too late.”
She couldn’t deal with this today of all days. She’d been apologizing for who she was her entire life. Now she was happy and she was supposed to apologize for that too.
Bad enough she missed Ethan something fierce in her quieter moments and felt so guilty for unintentionally hurting him that she wanted nothing more than to call him and apologize.
But if she called, he’d tell her to come home. To leave West and go back to her regular daily existence. And that thought made her physically sick.
She knew she would have to soon. She couldn’t become a professional groupie.
Did such things exist? See, if she’d done her research properly the first time, she would know these things. Instead she’d cheated and done something immoral and it had led her to certain ruin, which had then led her to the very best thing in her life.
Better than she’d ever dreamed.
Hard to imagine that was the best commercial against doing bad things, but there it was.
“That bad connection again,” Lauren said, voice clipped. “You should talk fast.”
“Your father and I pulled some strings. If you present your research so far—in whatever format you’ve compiled to this date—and vow to abide by all college policies and procedures, along with keeping your nose clean in your personal life,” her mother cleared her throat, “the university would accept you into your degree program once again. Pending board review and an acceptable personal interview, but I assume you can be on your best behavior for that long at least.”
Her breath tripped and she reached out to steady herself on the dresser. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed West sitting up, and she could guess his grin was gone.
He was concerned about her. Knew just from her silence and her body language that she’d been told something bad.
Except it wasn’t supposed to be bad. This was what she’d been working for since the fall. Ineffectually, true. She’d gotten caught up on the low wage treadmill, trying to put together enough money to get her own place along with paying some rent to her best friend. It wasn’t right for her to sponge off Ethan.
So now you want to sponge off West? Like you’ve been doing already?
She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. She would pay him back too. Somehow. She wasn’t a mooch, even if she was doing a damn good impression of one right now.
This was her answer. If she went back to school, she could probably get a work study program too. Not that they paid much, but it would be experience in her field and she could get another shitty job for the time she wasn’t in school or studying or working at her job for credit.
That should give her approximately twenty hours a week to make minimum wage, which meant she should be able to move out of Ethan’s apartment approximately by her seventy-fifth birthday.
Or she could move back in with her parents. They’d always held out that carrot. Get back into college, come home to stay rent free. Then you can save your money for your own place.
Right. And for paying off her student loans, since the gravy train had run out from her parents when she’d gotten tossed out on her butt. As it should have. She clearly hadn’t respected her degree, so it wasn’t their responsibility to contribute toward it.
Maybe she should just write down hot mess as her occupation and leave it at that. Or lukewarm mess, since West was the only man who’d ever made her feel hot. No one had ever made her feel the way he did.
“Lo,” he said softly from the bed, and his voice rose above her mother’s endless droning on the other end of the line.
Lauren turned, sure her eyes had to be bright from the tears she refused to cry. Not over this. She’d gotten herself into this, and she’d find her way out.
“Stay with me.”
For a second, she thought she’d imagined his lips moving. Dreamed up his husky voice saying words that seemed so impossible.
Why would he want her to stay? She didn’t have a job or anything to offer him. Hell, she didn’t even know all the blowjob tricks the real groupies must know.
All she knew was that when she looked up at him as he walked toward her, everything inside her strained toward him as if he was a magnet and she’d turned into a piece of metal. Pulled inexplicably into his orbit.
“Stay with me,” he said again, running his hand down the length of her hair. “Don’t go.”
She cupped her phone into her shoulder in the vain hope her mother couldn’t hear. Though a part of her wanted her to. Ached for her mother to know someone cared about her just as she was, maybe even lo—
No. Deluding yourself isn’t the way to a better life.
“Lauren? Lauren? Are you still there?”
She wanted to ask him what that even entailed. Staying with him. Surely he meant just a few more days. What was the natural ending point? And how could she guess it would be any easier to leave then than it was right now?
Swallowing deeply, she lifted the phone to her ear. “I’m here. Thank you for pulling strings. I know that must’ve been difficult for you both to appeal to the board.”
“Yes, well, we were in a very awkward position. But everyone makes mistakes. How you fix them is what’s important. So how are you going to fix this lapse, Lauren?”
Good question.
Gripping her cell, she stared into the green eyes that already centered her faster than anything else she’d ever known. Anyone else.
�
�Plans here have changed, and I’m going to stay with the tour for a while longer. When do you need my answer?”
West grinned at her and wrapped her hair around his fist, drawing her closer so she could lean against him. It would be far too easy to do just that. To run from one situation to another without taking a breath for herself in between.
So why did it feel like this was truly the first time she ever had?
“What do you mean ‘staying with the tour’? You’re being ridiculous. A girl like you doesn’t belong on a tour bus. It’s infatuation, Lauren, and it will fade. But not if you get yourself in a bad way before you’re smart enough to come home—”
“When?” Lauren asked, cutting her off. Praying like hell that West hadn’t heard what her mother had just said.
Suspecting from the pinch of his brows and the tic in his jaw that he’d picked up every damn word.
“What date do you need to hear from me by?” Lauren questioned at her mother’s silence.
“Two weeks,” her mother said finally. “If you’re not home by then, you can kiss your chances of getting back into the university goodbye.”
“Okay. I’ll be in touch.” She was about to end the call when guilt and a lifetime of bowing down to her mother kicked back in, right on schedule. “Thank you. And thanks to Father as well. I appreciate your extra effort, and I’m sorry if I’ve caused either of you or Ethan any worry. But I’m fine.” She gazed up into West’s concerned expression, his hand on her hair a lifeline she wanted to hold on to with both hands. “I’m better than fine.”
Her mother made a derisive noise and ended the call.
Lauren shut off her phone and tossed it on the dresser, facing the wall for a long moment while West cupped her shoulders and nuzzled the top of her head. They were both completely naked and it was as natural as if they’d known each other a lifetime.
But they hadn’t.
They hadn’t.
“She’s a rigid, cold woman,” she whispered, unable to raise her voice. “She always has been. She and my father live for appearances, and I’ve been a painful disappointment since the day I was born and the nurse called me fat.”
“What?”
“I was a big baby. Shocker, since I’m big all over now too.” She waved a hand at her shape. “My mother was always a perfect size four, and she nearly died having me. She was convinced this was because I was too large, and her belief was strengthened when the nurse commented how I was awfully chubby for a newborn. So my mother put me on my first diet in preschool. ‘No cupcakes or sweets for Lauren. She’s trying to reduce.’” Lauren laughed bitterly and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I was three. I didn’t even know what reduce meant.”
West stroked her upper arms. “You’re perfect, and she’s a bitch. I’m sorry, I know she’s your mother, and I shouldn’t speak negatively about her. But she’s a goddamn bitch if she treated you that way.”
Gathering her courage, she turned to face him. He didn’t step back, and the way his gaze warmed as he looked her over—though he quickly tried to focus only on her face—went miles to making up for her mother’s thoughtlessness. “What you heard her say isn’t how I feel. I just want you to know that. If something crazy happened, and one of those stupid British condoms broke, and I ended up—” She sucked in a breath and blew it out again. “Any child would be lucky to have you for a father. Any woman who closed you out of her life is insane.”
He shut his eyes and framed her face in his hands, tipping his forehead to hers.
She reached up to cover his hands with her own. “What are we doing, West?”
Eyes still closed, he shook his head.
Steeling her shoulders, she nodded. Okay then. She would just have to take it minute by minute. No labels. No guideposts for where to go next. Just feeling her way, with him right by her side.
Until he wasn’t anymore.
“Thank you,” he whispered, opening his eyes and assuaging so many of her fears with that one powerful glance.
She was still reeling when he gripped her hand and led her to the bed, pulling her onto his lap without a thought for how heavy she was. She shifted, trying to somehow make herself smaller, and grimaced at the flare of heat in her backside. He simply curved her against his chest and rubbed her hip, spreading warmth through her in a whole new way.
They just sat like that for a long time, with the sounds of the hotel waking up and bustling all around them. Carts wheeling down the hall, the soft snick of doors opening and closing.
“What does your tattoo mean?” she mumbled with her face pressed against his throat.
Slowly, he continued rubbing her hip. She was certain he would do it for hours if she only asked. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t spanked her there. The comfort his big, callused hands offered was immeasurable.
“Which one? I have many.”
She reached over his left shoulder to trace the triangle, and he nodded, recognizing the shape. “Ryan and Michael have matching ones. We got them in college. They lasted longer than I did.” His lips quirked. “Three parts of a whole. We were a unit. Since none of us really had a traditional family, that was important. Or if we did have a family, it was fucked up. Michael’s dad married Lila when she was fresh off the farm. Barely eighteen, starry-eyed, the whole bit. She’s only a few years older than Michael.”
“Wow. So he must’ve been in teenage hell.” When West frowned, she raised her brows. “Gorgeous mother-in-law? Come on. I might be innocent but I know how the teenage male penis works. I found enough of them trying to work their way into my hands.”
His laughter had to be the best sound she’d ever heard. “You have a way with words, Lo.”
“Thank you. So you’ll buy my forthcoming book on the female orgasm?” She slugged him lightly in the shoulder. “You might learn a thing or two.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He kissed her, so briefly she thought she’d imagined it. “I already am.”
“What about your family? Unless you don’t want to tell me. And if so, I’ll probably pout and withhold sex for at least fifteen minutes and/or until the ice melts.”
He grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear. “We have to leave soon. The bus rolls on. Back to LA next. A pair of shows at the Roxy next week. One on our own then a charity gig with some other bands. So technically if you wanted to go back to Ethan’s—“ He broke off and shook his head. “I can’t even say that with a straight face. I live with Ryan. So you can hang with us for the week, if that works for you.”
“Bachelor pad with Ryan, huh?” She poked him in the ribs. “Will I be interrupting any wild orgies?”
“Not unless you plan on starring in any.”
When she gawked, he chuckled. “No, no orgies. Ry’s not like that. He’s barely there anymore, actually. I’m not sure what he does with his time now. But we’ll mostly have the place to ourselves.”
“But you are?”
“Huh?”
Yeah, so she just couldn’t let the orgy thing go. “Ry’s not into orgies. Are you?”
“No. I’ve never even had a threesome. I tend to be a one-on-one kind of guy.”
“Hmm.”
He continued on as if she’d asked him how he liked his eggs. “And then in a week and a half, we have an awards show in Vegas.”
“Oh. That sounds cool.”
“Yeah. It is. We’re up for best new artist.” He lifted her hand and traced the valleys between her fingers. “I heard your mother say you had two weeks to decide. So before Vegas would probably be a good time to figure shit out, since we have to leave the Friday after this one. We’ll be there for a few days, then on to some place in the Midwest. Heading toward summer concert season.” The look he gave her held heavy subtext, she was almost sure, but damn if she could figure out exactly what.
She so wasn’t built for relationships. There was a reason she’d had so few, both romantic and personal. She just didn’t know how to deal with people, though somehow
she was doing better with this one than most.
“What will everyone say when you bring me back on the bus? They thought this was my last stop. That I’d probably just dematerialize into the groupie ether like all the other girls you’ve brought with you.”
“What other girls?”
She circled her free hand. “You know the ones you take with you on sex sprees.”
“Sorry, babe, that’s just been you.” He laced their fingers together over her thigh. “I’m a one-on-one and one-and-done. I’ve never asked anyone for a repeat, never mind to ride to the next stop.”
Her pulse sped before settling into a dull, thudding beat in her ears. “You don’t have to lie,” she said quietly.
“Good, because I’m not. If you asked me a question I didn’t want to answer, I’d just avoid it. I wouldn’t make shit up. That’s not who I am, Lo.”
She gripped the compass charm hanging from the cord around his neck. That was a story too, one he hadn’t wanted to share the other day. Understandably. This was all so new.
They were virtual strangers, even if they felt like anything but.
“Like your family,” she said.
The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Yeah, like my family. I definitely don’t talk about them much.”
She didn’t expect him to say anything more and definitely didn’t intend to press. He would tell her what he wanted to on his own time.
But he wasn’t through.
“Let’s just say I split from my family’s trailer as fast as humanly possible. My dad was an alcoholic who couldn’t hold a job. My mom was his favorite punching bag, though it was mostly verbal. Definitely not any better. Only difference was those bruises didn’t show.”
“Oh, West,” she murmured, horrified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to start you down this road.”
“Nah, you couldn’t know. And you didn’t start me down it. I came from it, born and bred.” He closed his fingers around hers on the compass charm. Inadvertently, she’d clutched it tighter as he spoke. “This was for Chloe, my little girl. So I would never get lost again. Would never forget what was important. My true north. Her and Raven. Just because I’m not with them all the time doesn’t mean they aren’t the center of everything.”