Commitment

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Commitment Page 13

by K. M. Golland


  His eye twitched.

  His brow furrowed.

  ‘My offer?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ My smile was calculating. ‘You’re cute as hell when confused, Dale.’

  Sparks of recognition flickered in his eyes. ‘Confused? No, I’m not confused.’ He stepped closer, and for a split second my heart all but stopped. ‘Are you sayin’ you want head now?’

  ‘Who doesn’t?’ I countered, standing my ground.

  ‘I don’t give just any head, Tashy.’ Oh Jesus.

  The head attached to my neck, which was attached to my body, which was buzzing to my very core, felt as if it were ready to explode. I had no doubt whatsoever that he’d deliver what he promised, because you couldn’t fake the type of arrogant hunger and sexual aptitude he possessed. You couldn’t fake sex when you were sex. And that’s exactly what he was: walking, talking, living, breathing S. E. X.

  ‘What’s “just any head”?’ I asked, biding my time. ‘I’m curious.’

  ‘It’s when your pussy isn’t wet just from anticipating my touch.’

  ‘Right.’ I swallowed. ‘That’s it, is it?’

  He chuckled, sounding a little sinister. ‘No. It’s also when my mouth doesn’t trail kisses up and down the insides of your thighs, when I don’t feather my tongue over your clit, and when you don’t clench my head tight.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I choked out, clenching everything that could be clenched. ‘Sounds interesting.’

  ‘It’s more than interesting.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It’s when this spot here,’ he said, placing his hand on the centre of my back, ‘isn’t arched in ecstasy. When your body isn’t covered in sweat, and when you’re not tearing at the sheets.’ He moved his mouth to my ear, his voice low and deep. ‘And it’s when my name isn’t rolling from your tongue as you fight for breath and repeatedly come on my face.’

  I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I was frozen … a stunned mullet. I wanted his head, not ‘just any head’. I’d had ‘just any head’ with my legs spread in bed. Fuck me dead. Shit! I’m rhyming. This isn’t good. Donuts. Donuts donuts donuts!

  ‘That’s a wrap,’ one of the television crew announced.

  I started at the loud voice and blurted, ‘Donuts!’ Double shit!

  ‘Donuts?’ Dale asked, amusement dripping from his cocky-as-fuck smiling face.

  Blinking rapidly, because I wanted more than anything for the constant flutter of my lashes to levitate my body and carry me far, far away, I stuttered as I regained my composure. ‘Um … yeah. Donuts. I feel like donuts. I might order them as room service.’

  His eyes lit up. ‘You’re staying at the hotel tonight?’

  ‘Er … yeah. It’s easier than going home. I don’t like to drive so late at night. It’s not safe.’

  ‘It’s probably safer than during the day.’

  I shrugged. ‘So you think I should drive home?’

  ‘No! I think you should get your donuts. You obviously want them.’

  I glared at him, playfully. ‘I do. I love donuts.’

  His lips parted as if about to say something, but he paused when my phone rang, sounding ‘You Sexy Thing’.

  ‘Hot Chocolate? Really?’

  I scowled at his grinning face. ‘Sorry, but I have to take this call.’

  ‘Sure. Not a problem.’

  Stepping behind a large concrete pillar for privacy, I answered. ‘Hey. Did the boys see me?’ I was excited and proud of my stealthy camera bombing.

  ‘Nah, they didn’t. Thomas pointed out your workmate, though. That made him happy. He seems to really like the guy. What’s his name? Dale? He was chatting to a woman in the background. And we saw Bryce and Alexis, of course. Where were you?’

  The smile on my face slowly vanished as disappointment punched me in the gut. My husband hadn’t recognised me, hadn’t recognised his own wife. Granted, I was rockin’ a new do. But fuck, the rest of me remained unchanged.

  ‘I was there,’ I deadpanned.

  ‘You were?’

  ‘Yeah, I was the woman Dale was chatting to.’

  The line fell silent. It was eerie. Unpredictable. It tightened my chest and prickled my fingertips.

  It was horrible.

  ‘That … was you?’ he asked, his voice an octave higher and much, much louder.

  ‘Yeah. Surprise!’

  ‘What the fuck happened to your hair?’

  A strangled laugh left my throat, but I went with it. ‘Gone.’

  The horrid silence from before crept back into our conversation like thick, unwelcome fog. I wanted to wave it away, or run away.

  ‘Dean?’

  ‘What, Tash?’

  His icy tone cut through me like a blade, regret punching me in the lungs, guilt making me stagger. I stumbled, losing my balance, and I had to brace myself against the pillar. ‘Are you not going to say anything?’

  ‘What’s there to say?’

  ‘That it looked good. That it suited me. I don’t know … something nice, something encouraging.’

  ‘I didn’t see enough of it to tell you that.’

  Wow! Tears welled in my eyes and my bottom lip trembled. His words stung more than I could have ever imagined. They hurt. But mainly, they disappointed. I was still me, still the same Tash. I was still his wife.

  You know what? Screw him. It was just hair. Stupid hair that would eventually grow back. And it was my fucking hair. My choice. If he liked long hair so much, he could grow his own.

  ‘Okay then. See you tomorrow,’ I said, deliberately unperturbed as I hung up on him. I looked great whether he thought so or not, and I didn’t need his validation. I didn’t need anyone’s validation. Only my own. What I need is fucking donuts. That’s what I need.

  Wiping my eyes to prevent a mascara-massacre, I sucked in a deep breath and squared my shoulders before stepping out from behind the pillar. Dale was standing where I left him, poised like typical security personnel. His feet were planted shoulder-width apart, his back straight, one hand cupped over the other and suspended just below his stomach. He looked adorable in a you-don’t-want-to-mess-with-me kind of way.

  I smiled as I approached him, burying the last few minutes and wanting nothing more than to mess with him. But, instead, I had a crazy idea. ‘So … what are your plans for the rest of the night?’

  He raised his crinkly, sexy, scarred eyebrow. ‘Apart from being on standby, not much.’

  I didn’t say anything, instead nodding my head in acknowledgement, purposely drawing his intrigue.

  He took the bait. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Meet me on the sundeck in thirty minutes and you’ll find out.’

  * * *

  Allowing only thirty minutes had been a bit ambitious for heading to my room, changing out of my gown and collecting a box of donuts and two coffees from the hotel kitchen. But I’d done it, more or less, arriving at the sundeck just as Dale was taking a seat on one of the cane sunlounger-pods.

  ‘Are you the real Cinderella?’ He searched the ground around his feet. ‘That would mean your lost shoe is around here somewhere.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked, tilting my head and smiling curiously as I walked towards him.

  ‘It’s gone midnight and you’ve changed out of your gown.’ He stretched and lay back on the pod, raising his arms and interlacing his fingers behind his head. ‘Damn, can’t find it.’

  The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his biceps were straining against the material, and never before in my life had I wanted to lick a muscle like I did now. But I just stood there and stared, the box of donuts balanced on one hand, the tray of takeaway coffees in the other. Words, Tash. Say some words.

  ‘Well … er … you know how the story goes: strict curfews, which is why you better take these coffees before they transform back into the toilet water they were made with.’

  ‘Shit! Sorry.’ He scrambled to sit upright
again and took the tray from me. ‘And the donuts? What will they become?’

  I sat on the pod beside him. ‘Toilet rolls, of course.’

  ‘Nice. So you’ve brought me toilet water and toilet rolls. I’m so glad I decided to meet you here.’

  I shrugged off his remark. ‘Meh, you had nothing better to do.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Dale levered a cup free from the tray and passed it to me.

  ‘Oh, hang on a second.’ I flopped back on the pod so that I could slide my hand into my jeans pocket, retrieving a stirrer and some sachets of sugar. ‘I wasn’t sure if you took sugar or not. Actually, I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee so went with a latte. Sorry.’

  ‘A latte is fine. And yeah, I do take sugar. I’m a fan of things that taste sweet.’

  I rolled my eyes. And not wanting to encourage him, I fought the smile that was desperate to surface, instead swapping the sugar and plastic stick for the cup he was still holding out for me. ‘Thank you, sweet tooth.’

  He chuckled — a smartarse chuckle — and I was beginning to take umbrage at the triumphant sound. ‘You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course. Who doesn’t like coffee and donuts after midnight?’

  ‘I’m not talking about that,’ I huffed, reaching inside the box and picking up a choc-glazed donut. ‘I’m talking about your deliberate inappropriateness.’ The chocolate ring of delight eagerly found its way into my mouth.

  His eyes landed on the donut and stayed there. ‘And how am I being deliberately inappropriate?’

  ‘How are you not?’ I mumbled around my mouthful.

  He peeked into the box and went to grab the pineapple-glazed, custard-filled, cinnamon-sprinkled ring of amazingness, but I wrenched the box away before he could get his grubby little fingers on it. ‘Not that one.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s my favourite. I got you the other two.’

  He frowned and took another look inside. ‘What if I don’t like those two?’

  I shrugged without an ounce of sympathy. ‘Then you miss out.’

  ‘Brutal.’

  ‘Yep. Unless …’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless you tell me what’s gotten into you lately.’

  Placing the box down on the ground by my feet, I swivelled so that I was facing him. There was no more playfulness. No more avoidance. I wanted an answer.

  Dale searched my eyes, his smile mild yet somewhat sad, his eye-crinkles less prominent. ‘You want to know why I finally made a move?’

  ‘What do you mean by “finally”?’

  He scoffed and drank his coffee. ‘I mean finally, after all these months.’

  My jaw dropped. After all these months? What?

  ‘Don’t look so surprised, Tashy.’

  I shook my head. ‘But I am. I don’t understand.’

  He placed the tip of his finger underneath my cup and guided it towards my mouth. ‘Drink. It will get cold.’

  I did as I was told, sipping quietly and waiting for him to offer an explanation. I was already confused by his attraction to me, because it didn’t make sense. I was married with children, my boobs were victims of gravity, I couldn’t sneeze without fear of bladder leakage, and I was beginning to find hair where there shouldn’t be hair. It was all just a bit absurd.

  ‘I’ve had a thing for you for close to a year now. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and you don’t take shit from anyone, including Bryce. You’ve got balls, Tashy.’

  I closed my eyes momentarily, allowing what he’d just said to sink into my clouded mind. ‘You’ve had a thing for me for nearly a year because I have balls?’

  ‘Pretty much.’ Dale reached over my lap and picked up the donut box.

  ‘Uh-uh. Not so fast,’ I said, snatching it from him. ‘I want to know why. Why now? What changed?’

  ‘My cousin.’

  ‘Your cousin?’

  ‘Yeah. My cousin. She died a couple of months ago. She was hit by a car while riding her bike.’

  My hand shot to my mouth and I gasped. ‘I’m so sorry. That’s awful.’

  Dale nodded sadly and shifted his focus to the pool, so I shuffled closer and placed my hand on his knee, my fingers lightly squeezing for comfort.

  He covered my hand with his, both of us staring at them in silence. ‘It was her fault,’ he said, breaking the quiet. ‘She made a stupid split-second decision that cost her life.’

  I didn’t offer anything, instead choosing to remain quiet so that he could speak.

  ‘You’re probably wondering what this has to do with you.’ He lifted his gaze from our hands and focussed on my face.

  I scrunched my nose. ‘Well, yeah, kinda. But I’m also terribly sad for your loss.’

  ‘My cousin was in love with her best friend. Madly in love,’ he emphasised, chuckling a little while glancing back down at our hands. ‘It was annoying as shit, actually, because she’d ring me and whine about it.’

  ‘I take it you were close?’

  ‘Yeah. Our mothers are twins.’

  I smiled at the fondness radiating from his eyes.

  ‘Anyway, Lila — my cousin — was forever complaining about wanting to be with her best friend, Justin. She was always sad because, apparently, they were perfect together.’

  ‘So why weren’t they together?’

  ‘Because Justin had a girlfriend, and he was happy.’

  ‘Oh.’ I nodded my understanding. Ohhhhhhh!

  Dale took hold of my hand and raised it to his mouth, his expression urgent and intense. ‘She died without letting Justin know how she really felt. And knowing her like I did, I know it would’ve been her biggest regret.’ His lips gently pressed against my skin; warm, soft and delicate. ‘I don’t ever want to experience that regret. Life is short. We need to step up, be brave, and put ourselves out there more.’

  He rotated my hand and trailed his lips to my wrist. My skin tingled at the contact, the sweet sensation surging up my arm and through my body like a wave rolling onto shore, the crash of water against sand that of my heart thudding against my chest. Every fibre in my being told me to create some distance and stop what was happening from going any further, but at the same time, his words were plausible.

  ‘We need to go after what we want in life. And what I want is a chance with you.’ Oh God.

  ‘Dale … I can’t.’ I freed my hand from his and placed it on my lap. ‘I can’t do this to Dean … to my boys.’

  ‘Tell me something … are you happy?’ His tone was sharp but unaggressive.

  It was an easy question that required an even easier answer, but it caught me off guard, and I couldn’t open my mouth and give it to him. Am I happy? I mean, really happy? Of course I was. I was as happy as most married mothers in their thirties, or at least I thought I was. Okay, so my marriage wasn’t perfect, but whose was? And was there even such a thing as a perfect marriage? I didn’t think so.

  A perfect marriage was an obese Barbie on a unicorn.

  Wringing my hands nervously, I met his stare and uttered, ‘Yeah, I’m happy.’

  ‘You don’t sound so convinced.’ He stretched back once again and placed his hands behind his head. That’s because I’m not convinced. I have no idea if I’m happy or if I could be happier. I mean, shit, who does?

  ‘Can you blame me?’ I stood up, annoyed, and paced next to the pod. I didn’t like his blasé disposition let alone him forcing me to question my life. ‘I’m just a little shocked and confused right now. You’ve come out of nowhere with these feelings for me and I don’t know what to do with them.’

  ‘Do you reciprocate them?’

  ‘What?’ I paused and placed my hand on my forehead.

  He remained calm. ‘Do. You. Have. Feelings. For. Me?’

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t; I was terrified of what I might say.

  ‘It’s a simple question, Tash.’

  He rose from his laid-back position to rest upon hi
s elbows, his unwavering stare piercing into my very depths. Heat bloomed on my face; his coercion to answer, and answer honestly, weighed heavily on my chest. The pressure was intangible yet just as suffocating as a ton of concrete.

  ‘I can’t do this. I have to go,’ I said quickly, spinning on my heel and practically running for the elevator.

  The warm summer night air, tinged with the smell of chlorine, breezed past my face, and the bright blue glare of the pool’s lighting shone through the water’s surface, distorting my vision as I rushed along the wet concrete.

  ‘Tash, wait!’

  Dale’s fingers clamped around my arm, throwing me off balance and causing my feet to slip beneath me. I screamed and grabbed hold of his shoulders, twisting and subsequently plunging us both into the pool. Liquid warmth swept my body as I scrambled to find the surface, my lungs grateful when they drew in a much-needed breath — a breath that was seconds away from expelling my fury.

  ‘What the fuck, Dale?’ I yelled, coughing and treading water.

  He swam towards me so I propelled myself in the opposite direction, my target the stairs. I kicked and stroked but was admittedly the world’s worst swimmer, because not long after I propelled myself towards the stairs, his hands secured my feet and dragged me to him.

  ‘No! Stop it,’ I gurgled. ‘Let me go!’

  ‘After you answer my question.’

  His hands moved to my hips, their strength rotating me to face him. I pushed against his chest, but he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug.

  I wasn’t going anywhere. I was trapped. Fuck!

  Our chests rose and fell, our eyes blinking droplets of water onto our cheeks as we scanned each other’s faces.

  ‘Well?’ he asked, his voice breathy and low.

  I gritted my teeth and stared at his lips. Soft, pink and wet. And without even thinking, I lunged myself at him, kissing him hard, hungrily and with purpose.

  I gave him my answer.

  CHAPTER

  14

  DEAN

  There had never been a time during the seventeen years of being together that I hadn’t looked forward to seeing Tash, and believe it or not, that included a certain ‘awesome’ time of every month. Yeah, even then — when she was shitty, hungry, feeling fat and ugly and hating on me because she was feeling fat and ugly — I still wanted to see her … just in smaller doses … because she was my wife, and because she couldn’t help how her body made her feel and act sometimes. I understood that, and even though I hated the Godzilla she became, I knew it was never for long. I also knew she never maliciously did or said anything to piss me off, because Tash wasn’t like that. She may have liked to win every argument we were embroiled in, but she never deliberately tried to incite them.

 

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