To-Do Him List

by Denise Marie

  “I know those meds are going to make you tired. I read the warning label.”

  She smiled.

  “Do you mind if we just talk? Get to know each other a little better, until you get sleepy? I promise, I won’t bug you for sex.” He placed his hand over hers, on his chest, and urged it down. “However, I can’t promise to calm this down. I seem to be in a constant state of arousal since I first laid eyes on you. I think I can control it.”

  Her giggle made it twitch. “Yes, the pills do make me sleepy, so talk fast. I want to know more about you.”

  He raised her hand up to his mouth and kissed it with a tenderness she could no longer fight, and situated it back on his stomach. “How about you go first? That way if you fall asleep while I talk, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be the first.”

  Both of their bodies relaxed when their tangled limbs found cozy angles to rest, snuggled close. He comforted her, enough to tell him everything. Some things not even Katherine was aware of. She told him about her father dying and being raised by her strong-willed mother. She told him about the kids she taught. Darkness blinded their vision, but he squeezed her in a delighted way when her smile widened against his chest. She loved them.

  ****

  He rubbed her back, loved the softness of her skin. The image of her belly swollen with his child and pressed against him played in his mind.

  Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?

  She spoke of her girlfriends and the drunken night she created the list. He didn’t think she would but, she even broached the subject of David. A tear hit his chest, but he didn’t want her to stop, so he ignored it.

  She talked about the night she asked David to experiment more in their sex life. Pride swelled in him. If she were his wife, she’d spend her time trying to come up with new kinky ideas. He shifted a little when her hand smoothed down his abdomen, so close to the hard-on that wouldn’t go away.

  He pictured a future with her in his bed, but the image faded when she described the day she met with the doctor, the tests he ordered. The results. He stared up at the ceiling, thankful for the dark. Water pooled in his eyes and he didn’t know if he could hold them back.

  She stopped talking to offer him a chance to speak, but he needed another moment. He was the weak one compared to her. The lump in his throat eased and he began from the start. Explained the early childhood he could remember, his mom walking out and leaving his dad to raise four boys. The many fights that took place in a house full of testosterone. He told her about his friendship with Drew and the days he spent using Drew’s house as an escape. Before he could stop himself, he admitted his mom’s abandonment left him fearful to love a woman.

  She stiffened in his arms. She too would leave him, but not by choice. He continued, didn’t want his admission to cause her any regret.

  He talked about school and how he got involved with the band. The whole, wild girlfriend in university topic, he condensed. The tour hadn’t hit New York yet and she didn’t need the added stress. When he paused for a moment, her breath had evened out and she lay heavier on him than earlier. She was asleep. He let out a contented sigh, and his eyes drifted closed.

  ****

  The vibration of his phone alarm so soon, pissed him off. He growled. Never could he imagine himself as a morning person. He squirmed to get it and laughed when he opened a picture the guys texted him last night. Zander wearing a strap on, cowboy boots and a hat with Brett bent over in front of him. Yes, this was his band.

  He shifted back to her side of the bed to find it empty. Now wide-awake, he bolted upright. A quick scan of the room revealed her purse and the odd items she brought with her. He slouched, not so concerned but still none the wiser about her absence.

  Her low mumble, now noticeable, came from the direction of the bathroom. He tilted closer but still couldn’t make out her words. The bedsheet slid down as he stretched enough to expose more of him that probed for attention. He smiled and glanced at the clock. Still time. He stumbled to the bathroom door, scrubbed the sleep from his face, and raised a hand to knock. Her mumble cleared and he froze.

  “I know your concern, Dr. Peterson. You have made it clear it would be in my best interest to have the surgery now, but I feel different.”

  Is her condition worse than she let on?

  “I will call you as soon as I am home, so you can make all the arrangements. A little more time, that’s all I ask. A little more time to experience life the way I denied myself until now. Please understand, Dr. Peterson.”

  He’d barrel in and wrap his arms around her when she sobbed, but that would mean admitting he eavesdropped. That wouldn’t go over well, so he ran back to the bed and pretended to still be asleep instead.

  God, I am such a loser.

  The water ran for a few moments before the door opened. She scurried at a measured, delicate pace, to be quiet and sneak back into bed. With the sheets gripped tight in his hands, he snarled when a loud bang at the door started, and didn’t stop. “Get your asses up. Bus leaves in an hour.”

  He grumbled, made a good show of being rudely awakened before he shuffled to the door and whipped it open. “Go bang your fucking drums and leave my damn door alone.”

  Brett brushed past him and entered the room without a care. She sat up, and yanked the sheet with her. Her red-rimmed eyes didn’t spark Brett’s concern, but it did his.

  Brett winked and sat in the chair beside the bed. “Don’t be shy, gorgeous. You’re hot, flaunt it.” He reclined in his seat and raised his eyebrows at Cole. “Guess you worked on the bucket list last night.” He smiled and shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of them. “Which item are we checking off today, and, is there anything you need my help with?”

  Cole picked up the nearest shoe and threw it at him while trying to get his pants on at the same time.

  “We will be ready and at the bus probably before you, party boy. Don’t think I didn’t see the picture. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

  He rose with a grin and sauntered toward the door. Though, not without a nosey touch or peek at anything in his path. “Just offering, old man. Thought maybe my youthful stamina would better suit some of Izzy’s wishes.”

  He spun around with his finger in the air, just a hair outside of the door. Cole waved him off and slammed the door. His pulse raced when he returned to her, on her way to pack her bag.

  “Sorry about that. Boundaries aren’t something we practice, obviously.” He chuckled. “We still have a little time to relax if you want?”

  She stopped rifling with her things and smiled at him, but he wasn’t fooled. The phone call lingered on her mind, and he couldn’t do anything about it without letting her know he intruded on the little privacy she has these days.

  “I am, of course, a little less sheltered with you guys. There’s no need to worry. Please continue to live your tour out the way you always would. I don’t want my life’s wishes to cause you regrets.”

  She yanked the sheet free from the bed as she cloaked herself with it, and headed to the bathroom. “I’m just going to take a quick shower. The restaurant in the hotel smelled good when we arrived last night. Maybe while I’m in the shower you can order some food for us to take back to the bus?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer before she closed the door.

  ****

  He was right. The hotel restaurant took what seemed like forever to get their food ready and they still beat everyone back to the bus. They took a cab, something he hadn’t done in a long time. She insisted it would do him good to do some less rock star like stuff, such as not always relying on a driver. He held his phone out to her on their way up the stairs, to show her the He text messages the guys sent him after he let them know they were cabbing it.

  “I’ll find us some plates. I think your eyes are bigger than your stomach, that’s a lot of food.” She furrowed her brows and shifted her confused glare from him to the cupboards. “If any plates exist on this bus, where
would they be?”

  His laugh stalled and he contemplated the cupboards with the same puzzled expression as she did. They worked out hard to keep in shape, and the statue of perfection displayed before her last night proved it, but they ate like pigs and ignored certain details, like plates.

  “Good question. Maybe, in the top cupboard?”

  She shook her head and spun to the cupboard he pointed at. A territorial buzz filled her at the lack of female attention to the bus, before her. He unpacked the bags as if he’d starved for days. With her hands splayed firm on the counter for support, she lifted herself on top, still a little weak from last night’s episode. It would take a while to recover, but she forced herself to keep up anyway.

  She wasn’t as tall as the rest of the men and got the sense he might die of laughter if she asked for a stepstool. The height didn’t bother her in the least as she gripped every edge possible, and opened the top cupboard door. A pile of junk fell out on her. It didn’t take a genius to see the cupboards that held the alcohol were used much more than this one.

  She sifted through the junk, found some unique knick-knacks. Some she couldn’t explain and others she wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy the story behind them. She found a shape that resembled plates far in the back.

  On tiptoe, she stretched for them and the shuffling of bags in the distance stopped. He enjoyed the view, and was obvious about it with his whistle. She stood straight again with the plates in hand, and a strong wave of nausea hit hard. A cold sweat broke out over her skin.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This may not be enough food.”

  She blinked away the dark spots from her vision, but his voice faded in the distance. It was too late. She swayed and lost her grip on the plates and the cupboard.

  “Isabelle.”

  A faint, familiar voice along with a warm touch on her face brought her to. “Please, baby, you’re scaring me. Wake up, honey.”

  She opened her eyes but they fluttered with weight. “C-Cole?”

  He kissed her all over, eyelids, mouth, cheek, and forehead. “Thank God, baby. You scared the shit out of me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”

  Still weak, she cupped the sides of his face with her hands. His cheeks warmed her clammy touch. “No, no doctor’s please. I’m okay, really. This isn’t the first time I’ve passed out.” She raised her eyebrow and winced. “It’s not that bad.”

  The memory of moments ago, the food, crossed her mind. She braced her hands on the bed and sat up but he wasn’t having any of it. He helped her back down. “You’re still very pale.”

  She chuckled. “So are you.”

  The line of his jaw tensed. “Yes, I am. I almost didn’t get to you in time. It could have been much worse. You fell in my arms, unconscious.”

  A warm tear slipped down her cheek at his description, his desperation. He used his thumb to wipe her face dry and replaced it with a kiss.

  Noise from the front of the bus alerted them to the rest of the guys’ late arrival.

  “Stay here, baby. I better go get your food before the vultures help themselves.”

  “Let them have it. I don’t think I could stomach it right now, anyway. I’m just going to get in my own bunk and rest a while. You go eat with them. You must be hungry.”

  He shook his head. “Scoot over.”

  When she didn’t budge, he tapped her arm and waited with an annoyed glare.

  “I’m fine. Really.” She slid back in the tiny bunk when he didn’t give in. Stubborn man.

  “I am not letting you out of my sight until I know you’re okay. Besides, we need to talk.” He laid down close and gathered her into the crook of his arm. The comfort of his arms didn’t ease her stress as fast as it had last night. His tone gave her the fight or flight warning in the pit of her stomach.

  “Hey Cole, Izzy, you guys see all this food?” Zander’s muffled words made it known he already spoke around a mouthful.

  “Ugh.” He yanked the curtain closed. “Help yourself guys, but leave us alone.”

  “Come on man, just give me a number already, I’m dying here.”

  Brett, like all the guys, managed a similar thought pattern, sex, food, and music. The pattern could shuffle but never did a day pass where any, if not all of the three took place.

  She leaned over him to slide the curtain back a little.

  “Don’t give candy to the baby, Izzy.”

  She raised her eyebrow in challenge and smiled. “Twelve.”

  Three very loud groans echoed from the lounge. “Now you did it. You’re in trouble now, baby.”

  “Can I help out with number fifteen?” Brett shouted.

  “I’ll take thirteen.” Zander laughed, followed by the sound of hands smacking together.

  “I’m in for fourteen.” Drew added.

  She covered her mouth. “Have you all memorized the damn list?”

  He tilted his head at her as if to say “duh.” She poked at him with her elbow and closed the curtain. He made being serious more work than being happy. He clutched onto her hips and guided her on top of him, did it with such ease. Her giggle changed to a moan when his shaft grew hard under her. Their bodies fit together, as if they were molded for one another.

  “I thought we were going to rest?” Her tone remained serious, until her body moistened to his advance and she bit her lip to keep quiet.

  “Oh, baby, we are. I just need to examine you a little more. Make sure you’re okay.” He slid his hands up either side of her body to cup her face. The seductive way he used his thumb to tug her lip free, gave her the second wind she needed.

  “Kiss me.”

  He smiled and a sparkle in his eye replaced the concern from moments ago. Thank goodness. If he handled her with too much care, out of anxiety for her condition, she wouldn’t achieve the purpose of this trip.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He closed the distance between them and teased her lips with licks and nips, without the intensity from the night before.

  “I said kiss me,” She whispered close to his lips.

  The combination of his subtle chuckle, held tight behind closed lips and the bus full of men made it impossible to scream at him, “I want to come.”

  He didn’t flinch at her demand. “Need I remind you, you’re a screamer?”

  She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his fresh-washed scent. It didn’t help the very evident pulse between her thighs, which yearned to make him dirty again. The focused intent in his gaze made it clear his mind was elsewhere. He shifted her once again, so she lay alongside him. She slipped her hand up his shirt and scratched her nails down his chest; he tensed.

  “Izzy, dear.”

  Mimicking his controlled amusement from seconds ago, she stilled her hand.

  “Like I was saying, we need to talk.”

  She righted his shirt and patted it in place with her hand, a little overdramatic. “Why do I get the feeling I am not going to like this?”

  The patience on his face faded and his body froze under her hand. “I heard you on the phone with your doctor,” he blurted out.

  She shoved up onto her elbow and gave him her most Katherine-like glare. “You eavesdropped on my phone call?” She moved farther away but he held her waist, not that she could escape since her back already touched the wall.

  “When I woke up you were gone. I heard noise from the bathroom and rushed to the door, in case you weren’t feeling well again. Also, because I missed you. You sounded upset. I froze. I’m sorry, for listening when I had no right but—” He averted his concerned gaze to the curtain, but not in time to hide the pain in his eyes.

  “But?”

  When he cast a wavering smile back at her, the usual guard she’d come to know didn’t exist and showed no signs of returning.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened. It won’t happen again. Just promise me—”

  His effort to keep some semblance of a boundary between them bro
ke her heart. They were in deep, more than she’d ever planned, and the ability to hold firm dwindled. She’d rescue him with assurance, words that’d comfort his helplessness, but she couldn’t.

  “—you will let me know if there is anything you need?”

  The air in the bunk stifled her mood. “Of course.”

  “I mean it, anything. This business is busy, chaotic, and at times full of rumors that could crush one’s spirit if they aren’t prepared. I don’t want to hurt you in any way but you will see your picture in tabloids, with assumptions about my past, our present, our—future.”

  The desperation in his eyes made it difficult to breathe. His large intake of breath confirmed he, too, struggled with time, or the lack of it. There was no future written in her cards, or theirs. He would make a good provider some day for a lucky woman, just not her.

  “Actually there is something I need, if you don’t mind?”

  The anticipation on his face was priceless but she needed distance, and there was only one way he’d let her have it. She lay back in his arms and stared at the closed curtain but couldn’t hold back the chance to lighten the mood.

  “I need a nap. Your stamina last night was beyond my personal best. You’re easy on the eyes, have an amazing voice and your—” She massaged her hand up his shirt once again. His abs tightened but he resisted, as if he was tempted to sway her from her nap, just not convinced of her boldness. “Oh so talented hands. Not to mention impressive—” She closed her eyes and shifted her legs a little. He laughed at her and ran his fingers through her hair, down her arm. “Anyway, I’m exhausted.” She stopped her advance and slumped.

  Laughter filled the air, but it wasn’t theirs.

  “Ha. Spend a night with me, and I’ll put you into a coma. It’s been known to happen,” Brett called out from the back lounge. A ruckus of slaps and hoots ensued.

  She couldn’t be more thankful she didn’t embarrass easy.

  “I told you not to tempt him.” He squeezed her close and kissed the top of her head.

  She melted into his side with the familiarity of an experienced lover.