“It hurt you.” The words ripped out like they’d cost a lot to utter.
“I know it shouldn’t.” I lowered the mug away from my face, toward my lap. It battered my already overburdened heart that something as trivial as gossip had the power to harm me.
His voice was gentler this time. “Who says?”
I faltered. No one says. It’s how I feel. “There have been far worse stories written about us.”
“I really thought they’d have moved the fuck on by now,” he growled.
The first few weeks after Evie, the press was relentless. They camped outside the gates, at my job… at the hospital right after I lost her. Every headline that could be construed was. Gossip and rumors flew.
Some of the things they said cut deep, so deep I’d never even talked about it.
At first, it was hard not to look. Our phones were going off day and night; they were calling the house and our family. Romeo and I couldn’t go anywhere together without practically tripping over anxious people vying for a shot that would make them a lot of money.
They called Romeo’s parents, and one time they followed me into a grocery store. The flashing bulbs, unflattering pictures online, insensitive questions, and lingering stares became too much. How were we supposed to grieve when we were smooshed so tightly beneath a microscope?
A family meeting was called.
Romeo loved his family meetings.
Pretty much all sources of press were banned from this house (except GearShark of course). We all got new phone numbers, which no one gave out. All the volunteers and employees of the shelter were asked not to bring the stuff to work. I hadn’t been to one pregame or practice for the Knights this season. I missed sitting in the stands and cheering.
Foolishly, I thought the press were backing off. I started to think it actually might be okay for me to go to some season games.
Then last night happened. It made me rethink sitting in the stands anytime soon.
I wasn’t a football darling anymore.
Well, maybe I was. I was the darling they wanted to destroy.
And Romeo? He was my victim.
“I can’t hide forever,” I said, uncomfortable. “It’s just making it worse.”
Romeo paused, set his cup on the bedside table, then did the same with mine. His body turned so he was directly in front of me. “Who said you’re hiding?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Me.”
“Rim, is that how you feel?” he asked.
I shrugged again. I did that a lot these days. It seemed easier to shrug off a question, the way I really felt, than to say the words out loud.
He waited, not accepting my signal, but not asking again.
I sighed. “I don’t really feel like I’m hiding. You know I’ve never been one for the spotlight anyway. But it’s sort of what I’m doing. The media is going to keep inventing stories about us the more secluded I stay. Maybe we should just do an interview, shut everyone up.”
“No,” Romeo said, flat, his mouth drawn into a thin line.
“Why?”
“The press has no right to our lives, Rim. They have no right to you. What we’ve been through is no one else’s business. Making you relive that…” He stopped, and I noted the way his hand flexed in his lap.
I reached out and covered it with mine.
He exhaled.
“So we don’t talk about Evie.” My stomach dipped a little when I said her name. “Maybe we just make it clear we aren’t getting a divorce. Satisfy their curiosity.” Or maybe going to sit in the stands at a game, no matter how hard it would be, could portray a silent message. A sign of my support and love for my husband.
He barked a laugh that was not humorous. “You know damn well they’d never accept that. They’d say whatever to get us into the studio, then fucking assault you with questions about the baby, and…” His voice fell away. A low curse slipped from his lips, and his free hand rubbed over his hair, mussing the blond strands.
“And they’ll ask me why I’m not pregnant again.” I finished softly. Yes, it had only been three months. In the media world, three months was forever, and it must mean I was unable to conceive.
Deep down, I had those fears, too, even though we hadn’t even started trying again.
“Fuck them!” he growled, chest heaving.
“Do you ever wonder?” I whispered, the words rushing out so fast I barely understood them.
Romeo stilled. Beneath my hand, his own jolted. “Rimmel.”
I looked up, beckoned by the way he spoke my name. Surprised yet also sad.
Tears crowded my eyes. I blinked furiously, holding them at bay, silently screaming for them to stay where they were.
“I know why you aren’t pregnant yet, sweetheart. I’m always present when we have sex,” he replied with a half-smile.
I shoved his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” All traces of his attempt to help me chase away the tears vanished. “You’re not ready.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “And that’s okay.”
“Are you?” I glanced up, staring into his azure eyes.
“Not until you are.”
He was sweet. Thoughtful. So caring.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel he only said that because he thought it was the right thing to say. Deep down, I felt like Romeo was ready to try again.
But I wasn’t.
And I didn’t know if I would ever be.
Romeo
There was a barrier between us, and I wasn’t talking about the condom.
Not that I really liked the condom.
Not really liking it = wanted to throw them in the trashcan and light them all on fire.
I’d grown way too accustomed to slipping into Rimmel bareback and feeling her silky heat envelop me. I missed it. I missed the friction of her skin on mine and the spontaneity of not having to wrap it.
Not that the sex still wasn’t good. It was better than good. Sex with Rimmel would always be my vice. She would always be who my body craved.
The condom was just temporary anyway. After Evie, she didn’t go back on the pill. It was unspoken that we would eventually try for another baby. But not right away. Her body needed time to recover. Both our hearts needed some time to mend.
I never really thought that three months later, I’d still be buying the latex in bulk, but I was, and there wasn’t one damn word I’d say against it. She wasn’t ready, not even for the possibility of becoming pregnant again. I heard the truth in the vulnerability of her voice when we were talking about the press.
I saw the war in her eyes before, when I asked her, as I always did, if the condom was still needed. She wanted to say no, but her heart wouldn’t let her.
That was the barrier I meant.
It wasn’t physical. It wasn’t even tangible. Sometimes I thought I imagined it, but then there were other times, like today, when I saw the battle in her eyes or felt a great distance even when she was at my side.
There were times in the past when distance threatened to separate us. The reasons then and now might not be the same, but the result was. I didn’t like it.
Oh, hells no.
I really wasn’t sure what to do about it, though. This wasn’t something I could fix. I could have a restraining order served, deck a guy in the face, or even just profess my love. Rim knew I loved her.
And I was learning sometimes love didn’t fix everything.
In a way, what held us sort of separate was something we’d not faced together yet. Loss like Evie was permanent. It was irrevocable, and as I was coming to realize, it wasn’t something that even truly healed.
Rimmel was taking it hard… maybe harder than I realized.
Harder than me.
The guilt of that might haunt me forever. It was also something that likely kept some space between us.
I missed my wife. I missed having our souls touch even when we were miles apart. I might not know how to fix eve
rything, but I did know something.
I wasn’t giving up.
Maybe what we needed was time together. Not talking about the press. Not worrying about condoms or even the detachment I knew we both felt.
We needed quality time. Low-key time. Time for me to remind her even though we’d lost something, we still had each other. Maybe once I saw the shadows in her eyes lose some of their darkness, the guilt gripping my chest wouldn’t be so heavy. Hopefully.
I didn’t have much time before B and I were off again. The season was already underway, and soon we’d be on the road way more than we’d be home. I’d just have to make the most of the time we did have and then, after that, all the moments in between.
After Rim and I ate plates of bacon, eggs, and fruit, I dumped all the dishes in the sink and snatched her around the waist before she could try to wash them or put them in the dishwasher.
“C’mon, let’s go for a walk,” I said against her ear.
“I need to clean up,” she retorted, leaning back into my chest.
I nipped at her ear. “Later.”
Since her back was to my chest and my arms were wrapped tight around her waist, when I started walking, she had no choice but to follow. We left the bright kitchen and walked into the mudroom, where there was a huge wall-length built-in bookcase-type thing. Except it didn’t hold books.
It held shoes.
Why women needed so many damn shoes I’d never know. Hell, even Nova, and she could barely walk.
Leaning down, I scooped up Rim’s favorite fur-lined boots and held them in front of us.
Rimmel grabbed them and stepped away so she could push her legs into them. Before we’d finally left the bedroom, she’d put on a pair of leggings that hugged her body and a long, oversized gray sweater.
Her hair was down, and I knew she brushed it because as she did, I’d heard her in the bathroom muttering to herself about it.
I slid on some sneakers and whistled for the dogs. Both of them came lumbering into the room like a pair of idiots. Rimmel laughed at their antics, so I supposed their idiotic behavior was worth something. I opened the door, and they rushed out into the garage before us.
“Where we walking to?” Rimmel asked.
I turned back as she was sliding a chunky knit cap over her head and ears. It was gray, just like her sweater.
I loved her. Everything about her. So much that sometimes it still caught me off guard.
Sometimes it still scared the hell out of me.
I shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“No,” she said, her voice softening as if she’d read my thoughts.
There was a door at the back of the garage that led behind the house, past the huge deck, the massive play structure we’d had built for Nova, and the stone fire pit with benches.
The dogs barked and ran ahead with gusto, and the autumn breeze picked up strands of Rim’s hair and fluttered it around her shoulders.
I walked a few paces in front of her and crouched down, offering her my back. “All aboard.”
She laughed and flung herself onto my back. I straightened, hooking my arms beneath her knees, and set off across the property.
The sun was high in the sky, but the air was cool. It smelled crisp, like damp leaves and acorns.
“It’ll be a good night for a bonfire,” I told her.
“We haven’t had one of those in a while.”
“All the more reason to have one,” I replied.
Her chin settled on my shoulder right next to my head. We walked (well, I walked; she rode) in silence a while, the crunching of leaves underfoot and the rowdy dogs barking in the distance the only sounds.
I could feel her heart beating steadily against my back. The rhythm calmed me in ways nothing else could. Not even football and bashing heads on the field.
Trent and Drew had their own house on the property. It wasn’t as huge as the main house, but it was still big, with four bedrooms, and had the same look as our house. Beside it was a huge garage, and when we got close enough, I saw the doors were open. Seconds later, I saw them moving around the Fastback inside.
“Let’s go tell them about the bonfire tonight,” Rim said.
We set off in that direction.
I ducked under a tree, and Rimmel reached out and plucked a yellow leaf off a nearby branch. “I love fall,” she said soft, holding the leaf out to study it.
I grabbed her hand and pulled it close to kiss it before tucking my hand back beneath her knee.
Trent saw us coming across the grass and stepped out of the garage and waved. Then he wiped his greasy hand down the side of his jeans, leaving a black trail.
Rimmel snorted. “That’s never gonna wash out.”
“You guys made it back,” Trent called.
Drew heard him and came out from around the Fastback to stand beside him. Trent shifted automatically, angling just slightly closer to him. They didn’t touch, but just the way they inclined their bodies when close said a lot.
They were happy, something that was fucking good to see. After everything that went down last spring and the way those two fought against their feelings, I honestly started to wonder if they’d ever surrender.
But they did.
Them becoming official locked this family into place.
Someone asked me once in an interview what I thought about having two gay men in my family. I told them I didn’t even think about it. It was simply the truth. I didn’t care my brothers were gay. I only cared they were happy.
Besides, bitches be tripping, and I didn’t exactly relish the thought of those two bringing home two bitches I’d have to watch circle around my girl.
And yeah, bitches were exactly what they’d have brought home, because Trent and Drew were meant to be together, just as much as me and Rim. Anyone else would have been completely wrong and a choice made out of denial.
Trent was happier than I’d ever seen him in the past five years since we met. He wasn’t as guarded anymore, at least not around us. It was like he finally stepped up and accepted the place he’d always had in this family.
He and Rim had grown closer, something I was grateful for. B would probably always be her number one big bro, but B was gone a lot with me. At least this way I knew she had someone at home she could go to if shit hit the fan and I wasn’t around.
The changes in Trent were all thanks to Drew, who was the reigning champ of the NRR. We’d all been in the stands for the championship race. What a rush it had been to see him cross the finish line first.
It was right up there with the day B and I won our first Super Bowl.
“What’s up, guys?” I asked, holding out my fist for a round of bumps.
Rim patted me on the shoulder, and I crouched down so she could jump off my back.
Drew reached out and mussed the hat covering her head. “There’s my style sister,” he cracked. Rimmel laughed and adjusted the hat on her head.
Drew was wearing the same style hat, except his was black and a little tighter on his head.
Trent rolled his eyes and smiled.
“People are already talking, saying the Knights are out to keep their champ status,” Trent said.
I smiled. “Hells yeah.”
“So what’s going on?” Drew asked, wiping off a car part with the rag in his hand.
“Bonfire tonight,” Rimmel said.
“Sweet. We should be back by then.”
Trent tossed him a look over his shoulder. There wasn’t much to it, but it had the muscles between my shoulder blades bunching. I couldn’t help but feel like the off-hand comment was something Trent didn’t want us to hear.
“Where you going?” Rim asked.
“Need some car parts,” Drew replied easily. “Want me to get some marshmallows while we’re out?”
“Like you even have to ask.” Rimmel laughed. “Better get double because Braeden will eat half of them.”
Darcy and R came bouncing over, and Rimmel laughed, dropping dow
n to pet them both.
“What’s going on?” I asked Trent, keeping my voice low.
He glanced over at Rim, then quickly back. “Nothing major.”
He knew better than to say that shit to me. He made a sound, then walked a few paces farther from Rimmel, the dogs, and Drew. “The press is hanging around again. I chased them off the property at the shelter last night.”
“You said they weren’t there,” I ground out low.
“They weren’t, ‘cause I showed them the door.”
“Dirty bastards,” I growled. “She didn’t say anything to me.”
“She didn’t see them, so there was nothing to say. Her car is still at the shelter. I’ll pick it up for you when we go out later.”
Ah, that explained her missing car. I hadn’t even asked her about it because it didn’t really matter. All I cared about was she was home and safe.
“To get car parts,” I said dubiously, not believing for one second they were actually going out for parts. Shit, their garage was practically an Auto Zone.
Trent’s eyes held all the answer I needed.
“Where you going?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Rimmel called out, then started our way.
Trent’s eyes cleared. “Later,” he said, then shifted to smile at her. “We, uh, aren’t really going out for car parts,” he said, like he’d been caught.
I shifted back onto my heels, waiting to hear what he would say.
Rimmel’s nose wrinkled. “Then where are you going?”
Trent blanched. “We, uh, forgot to pick up Nova’s b-day present.”
“You were supposed to do that days ago!” Rimmel scolded him.
She was cute when she admonished people.
“I know,” Trent replied. “That’s why I didn’t want to say.”
“Don’t be telling Ivy, Rim,” Drew pleaded, joining in. “You know she’ll give me a lecture that lasts until the party starts tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was Nova’s one-year birthday party. Ivy had been planning it for a month.
Rimmel snorted. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Trent tossed his arm around her and pulled her in for a quick hug. Over her head, our eyes connected.
#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8) Page 6