by R. K. Lilley
That was it. I was done.
Without another word, I turned on my heel and left.
I was at the car when I felt him behind me.
I whirled on him, glaring.
“That was so completely out of line,” I told him, my voice near a shout.
He threw his arms up in the air, his expression conciliatory. “I know. I’m sorry. As soon as the words left my mouth, I was sorry. I’ve been in a foul mood, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Dean is more than I can take right now.”
“Forget Dean. He’s bad for you. Can’t you see that? You should be staying as far away from him as you can.”
“It’s a bit late for that now. I’m fucking stuck with him, thanks to this record deal.” His tone changed, his eyes getting soft. I could never fight those soft golden eyes of his. “But you’re right. Let’s forget about him.” He moved close, pulling me against his chest, his big hand stroking over my hair with a feather light touch.
I let myself relax against him for a moment, unable to resist him for long, as usual. “The drinking has gotten out of hand, Tristan, and I don’t even want to know what else you’ve been using. Can’t you stay away from it all for even the few days you see me? Because if you can’t, that’s a good sign there’s a problem.”
“No, no, I can stay away. You’re right. I’ll lay off it, sweetheart. I’m just wound up so tight. Things have been tense. I can quit any time, though. Stopping on the weekends is no problem.”
My stomach tried to tie itself into some elaborate knots. Even he didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his hands rubbing my shoulders. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Do you have any idea how much shit I will take from Dean about that comment you made?” I complained after we’d been standing like that for a while. “He didn’t need an excuse to talk nasty to me, but you’ve given him one.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” he said tersely, pulling back, his mood changing with a few short sentences. “What’s he been saying to you?”
I immediately backpedaled. Someone needed to kick Dean’s ass, but it didn’t need to be Tristan.
“Never mind,” I murmured, cuddling back into his chest.
He backed away. “No. I want to know what you’re talking about.”
I dug in stubbornly. “It’s stupid. Pointless to talk about when we have so many other things to discuss.”
“What things?”
“The fact that you’re always late. And more and more, you don’t answer my calls. The fact that you’re abusing your body on a regular basis. I’m not even seeing the half of it, but what I’ve seen is worrisome, and you tell me all the time that it’s worse when we’re apart. I think we need to look into some sort of grief counseling for you…and I think you need to start looking into getting some help for the substance abuse.”
He went stiff, his eyes going icy. “You just can’t help it, can you? Will you let up on the nagging for five fucking minutes?”
Without another word, he stormed off.
I felt like I’d been slapped. I stood there, stunned, for a long time, before I followed him.
I couldn’t figure out where that had come from. I didn’t think I nagged. In fact, I’d gone out of my way not to mention any of his bad habits, especially where alcohol was concerned, for a long time. I felt almost guilty at all the things I’d overlooked in my sympathy for what he was going through.
I was hurt by his words, but even so, I followed behind him.
He had too many weapons against me. Showing me his worst, then his best, followed by his withdrawal. Cold, then hot, then gone. His arsenal was too much for my smitten self, custom set to push all of my buttons.
It was a fact that I’d do just about anything to get more of his best.
It took me a long time to track him down. The apartment was small and crowded, and I kept getting stopped by the people I knew at the party to talk about costumes and the band.
I finally found him in the kitchen, talking to Kenny. I nodded at Kenny before moving to Tristan’s side, eyeing him carefully.
His face was stiff and blank, but he threw his arm around my shoulders as soon as I was within reach, kissing me on the head, and murmuring a barely perceptible, ”I’m sorry,” into my hair.
“S’okay,” I whispered back.
“I’m an ass.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Only sometimes.”
“Let’s do something special next weekend. I know a guy with a place on the beach. Let’s go take a weekend for ourselves.”
I turned on him, smiling brilliantly. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”
“And I’ll cool off on the booze. For you.”
I hugged him as hard as my skinny arms were able to. “Love you. More than you know.”
“Right back at you, sweetheart. I’d be lost without you.”
I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. An affectionate peck had been my intent, but it wasn’t Tristan’s. We were making out with no shame between one breath and the next.
Kenny had been standing somewhere close to chat with Tristan, but we never even excused ourselves. In fact, we never got another glance at him after that.
My arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair.
His hands went to my ass, pressing our bodies as close as they would go. We were nowhere close to private, but his hands working on my butt had me moaning out loud.
He pulled back, cursing, laughing. “Come on,” he muttered, tugging me out of the kitchen with his hand. He led me into the hallway bathroom, slamming the door shut behind us, and pulling me hard against him.
“I can’t wait. It’s been so long,” he muttered, turning me to face the sink.
“We should have taken the edge off before we left your place.” I smiled.
“No shit. What were we thinking?”
I didn’t mention that he’d been drunk. I didn’t want to spoil the moment.
He bent me over the bathroom sink, pushing up my red kimono and rocking hard into me.
I gripped the faucet for dear life, crying out his name. Even knowing we’d get grief for it later, I couldn’t seem to keep quiet. It just felt too good, too perfect, the rough glide of him, in and out, in and out, his hands gripping my hips, holding me perfectly still while he rammed in and dragged out, over and over.
“This right here,” he rasped out with one long thrust, “this is what I fucking live for. So good, Danika, so fucking good.”
I was embarrassed after. We’d made a scene and then a racket. I blushed even as we cleaned up. I didn’t want to show my face after that, but there was no emergency exit out of the bathroom, so we didn’t have much choice.
Tristan was grinning like a fool when he saw my pink cheeks. “If anyone harasses you about it, I’ll kick their ass, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “I hope you’re joking.”
It was hours before we got out of there, and I could have sworn I was blushing the whole time.
Tristan lay on his back, hands folded behind his head. We were back in his apartment, in his bed, and I was cupping him in my hand, laying half on top of him to watch his face.
His eyes were hooded, his tone unreadable. “Go ahead, Danika, make it all better.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that, aside from you, my life is shit. So please, if you love me, do what you do, and make me forget that for a while.”
He broke my heart when he said things like that.
I kissed his chest, his hands, his abs, soft, loving kisses. If I could have healed him with my devotion, he would stop hurting, and I tried to show him that with every tender touch.
My touch was just as soft as I gripped his hard length, and took him into my mouth. His touch was not soft at all as he gripped my hair and growled for me to suck harder.
Normally, in fact, always that I could remember, he would have reciprocated, but he didn’
t that night. Instead, the taste of him lingering in my mouth, he fell asleep, still cupped in my hands.
I lay awake for a long time, stroking his hair, watching him sleep, like a mama bear with a cub, knowing he was slipping away, knowing he was on the wrong path, a path that was bad for him and agonizing over what I could do to help him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DANIKA
The woman caught my eye as the waiter led us to our seats. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining down and an ocean breeze that made it pleasant rather than hot. The California coast was a marked and pleasant change from Vegas.
She was an attractive woman, with dark hair and an engaging smile, but that wasn’t why I couldn’t seem to look away. She was pregnant, her hand stroking over her belly lovingly as she laughed over something with her girlfriend. I’d always thought pregnant women were adorable, and, more and more, I got an ache in my chest just seeing a woman heavy with child.
Tristan noticed my distraction before I’d even had time to unfold my napkin into my lap. He caught my hand across the small table to get my attention, giving me a questioning smile. He wasn’t drunk or strung out today. In fact, he looked healthy and sober, smiling and tan.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he teased.
My mouth twisted ruefully. “Not worth it. You’ll just make fun of me.”
He squeezed my hand. “I will not. I promise. Now tell me what has you so distracted from me on our romantic getaway.”
I nodded my head subtly toward the woman across the courtyard.
He followed my motion, but just looked more confused.
“I was just thinking that a happy pregnant woman has it all. What could be better than that? Having a life growing inside of you, knowing that you’ll have this little soul to love for the rest of your days.”
His smile turned so soft on me. Melt your insides soft. “You want a baby, sweetheart?”
I frowned at him. “Don’t joke about things like that. It’s cruel.”
“I wasn’t joking. The second you tell me you want a baby, I’ll get to work on it. I thought you’d want to wait a few years, maybe finish college, but I’m more than fine with starting a family now. Whaddya say?”
My heart had started trying to pound its way out of my chest at his first sentence. I sat in stunned silence for a good five minutes while I processed his words.
“I have to say, dead silence was not the reaction I was hoping for.”
I chewed on my lip, still silent, just studying his face like it held all of the answers. Finally, when I did speak, my voice was less than steady. “I still can’t tell if you’re joking.”
He leaned forward, no hint of a smile on his face. “It’s not a joke. That’s what I want, what I’ve wanted from the moment that I realized I was in love with you.”
“Isn’t that a little backwards? Aren’t there a few steps we’ve missed before we start talking about babies?”
My hands moved in slow motion to cover my mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little white box that I told myself couldn’t be what I thought it was.
His head was bent, and his dimples popped up at me as he shot me a rather pained grin. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. If you cry, I’ll lose my shit. If you really love me, you won’t make me embarrass myself in front of strangers.”
A little whimper escaped me, my vision getting a touch fuzzy as the world shifted into dream territory.
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make me lose it in front of this crowd of innocent bystanders.”
“Tristan,” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. “Is that…?” My voice cracked on the question.
His laugh was a gentle rumble that made me want to hit him and kiss him and sob like a baby all at the same time.
“What is that?” I asked, still not looking at him.
He tried to tug my hands away from my face, but I didn’t budge. “Danika…look and see.”
I shook my head, crying as quietly as I could, which wasn’t quiet at all.
He sighed, but his voice was thick with tears when he spoke. “Marry me.”
I sobbed harder, thinking that this couldn’t be real. I was dreaming, except that in a dream, I’d have been able to stop crying like a lunatic and say yes.
“Shouldn’t you be on your knee or something?” I sniveled.
“Goddammit, you’re crying like baby and still you manage to sass me,” he said wryly.
But he was moving, kneeling down in front of me, his hand going to my thigh to rub soothingly.
“Marry me,” he said again.
I threw myself into his arms, burrowing my face in his neck as I bawled my heart out.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he soothed, running a hand over my hair, making little sympathetic noises in his throat.
I kept sobbing, great, loud, gasping waves of them, and he just held and soothed me. In that moment, I’d have sworn there was not a more perfect man on earth.
“Is that a yes?” he finally asked.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I cried, still not looking at him, still carrying on like a crazy woman. Gently, almost sneakily, he slipped a ring I’d never even set eyes on onto my finger.
Finally, after I’d taken long enough to calm down and look at him, saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, the gentle smile on his face, I went and lost it again.
“We shouldn’t have done that in public,” I told him later, when we were finally alone in our borrowed beach house. “I was a mess. That was a horrible idea.”
I couldn’t stop smiling, studying the shiny rock on my finger like it held the secrets of the universe.
We were sitting side by side on a large beach settee, watching the sun set on the ocean. I couldn’t remember a more perfect day.
“Well, I know that now. I had this strange notion in my head that you’d like a romantic gesture in public, and…I stand corrected.”
“It’s a beautiful ring.” It was a princess cut, surrounded by baguettes on a white gold band. I didn’t know a thing about diamonds, but it looked big to me, and it sparkled brilliantly.
“I’ve been saving up. I wanted it to be perfect.”
“This is insane. You know that, right? What are we going to tell people.” I was thinking of only a few people in particular when I said that.
“Bev won’t be too happy about this,” he observed, basically reading my mind. “She’ll say you’re way too young.”
“Yes, she will. She doesn’t think anyone should get married before thirty. She says that all the time. I know this sounds weird, but can we not tell her? Just for a little while. I want to show her that this is not a rash decision, and the only thing that will prove that to her is time.”
“Whatever you need to do, sweetheart. As long as I’ve got my ring on your finger, and you have my name.”
That sounded so divine I could hardly stand it.
“Do you mind if I wear it on a chain around my neck sometimes? Just for now.”
“Not at all, but you have to do something for me. Don’t make me wait. Let’s get married as soon as we get back to Vegas.”
“Danika Vega,” I said dreamily, practically floating on my own sense of contentment. What else could I ever want, if I had Tristan forever? I couldn’t come up with one thing.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.
“I already said yes.”
“I mean yes to getting married the second we get back into town.”
I had to turn my head and look up, and up, to meet his gaze. “If that’s what you want, then yes. What’s the hurry though?”
His mouth curved. “This is old-fashioned, especially considering that I don’t even know my own dad, but I want to get married before we get you pregnant. I want to do it in the right order, yanno?”
I wanted to pinch myself. I honestly thought I might be dreaming. “You meant it about wanting a baby now? You really want that?”
He squeezed my hand,
looking earnest. “So bad, sweetheart. Is it what you want?”
It was all positively insane, but I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.” Career, school, dancing. Everything would work itself out, in my deliriously dreamy mind. Bev managed to balance it all. I was a little young, but so what, why couldn’t I? I was willing to work around the clock to have it all, with Tristan.
“I’ll get off the pill,” I heard myself saying, as though it wasn’t even me talking.
He smiled like I’d just made his fondest wish come true. “Perfect. We can start trying immediately. No harm in getting some practice rounds in.”
“I’d say we’ve had plenty of practice.”
“Ah, true, but never enough, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’ll defer to your superior judgement on the subject.”
“Well,” he began wryly. “At least I get to be right about something.”
We enjoyed our two-day getaway to the fullest, sleeping in, walking on the beach, and spending plenty of time in bed. We had a baby to make, after all. I still couldn’t believe it.
We were wed at the courthouse just days after we got back into town.
I wore a sleeveless little yellow sundress with white flowers, and Tristan wore a white polo shirt and khakis. It was simple, but it was perfect.
I cried like a baby through the entire thing.
Tristan’s eyes were shinning and bright, his smile radiant.
I remember that I had no reservations, not one single doubt that what we were doing was right.
We didn’t tell a soul. What was the rush? We had the rest of our lives to tell them. For now, this happy news belonged only to us. It was a secret that took no toll on our souls. The best kind of secret.
We went out to dinner afterwards to celebrate. Halfway through the meal I went to the restroom, and on the way back to our table, I bumped into a man. It was perfectly innocent. We both said excuse me, and went on our way.
When I got back to my seat, Tristan was glaring at something behind me.
“Need me to go straighten that guy out?” shot out of his mouth the second I was seated.
“Of course not. We just accidentally bumped into each other.”