Keep Me

by Faith Andrews

  “You women make shit so complicated for no reason.”

  “Yeah, that’s what all you men think. But truth is, you’re worse than us. Most times you have no idea what the hell you want, even when it’s staring you right in the face.”

  Cryptic Riley strikes again. “Whatever you say, Ry.” She was talking gibberish, but it couldn’t have been about me. I knew exactly what I wanted and she was walking out of the kitchen holding it—an ice-cold beer for me and a warm bottle of milk for her son.

  For the rest of the night I paid close attention to the three amigos, trying to figure out if it was just a matter of Beck being broken hearted or if there was more to it. A couple times I caught Riley and Beck a little chummier than usual, but I chalked it up to what she told me. Riley was always around me with my buddies, especially Beck. They were bound to form their own friendship at some point, in fact, I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. And besides, being of the female species she had firsthand knowledge of how to deal with the whole Marissa thing. Let her deal with his woes for now. I was happy and in love… didn’t need him dragging me—yeah, that was fucked up. Dude was there for me whenever I needed him. Even when I was all screwed up and tied in knots about Tessa in the beginning. I owed him some one-on-one time.

  “Babe,” I leaned closer to Tessa, nuzzling into her neck. “Luca looks like he’s dozing off. Why don’t you take him up?”

  Sitting up, she looked at her watch. “Crap! I didn’t realize how late it was. Let me get him washed up and down for the night.”

  “Tess?”

  “Mmhhmm?”

  I pulled her down to me by her arm so her ear was close to my mouth. “Number one, I love you.” She giggled. “Number two, take Riley with you? I want to talk to Beck for a minute.”

  She straightened up and stared down at me, stone-faced. “Why?”

  He seemed distracted enough by the stupid Geico commercial, but I didn’t want to say too much with him right there. “Riley told me about Marissa. He’s hurting. Let me talk to him alone?” I whispered, making sure neither of them heard me.

  She blinked a few times, staring off into some far off place. When she came back, her beautiful eyes did the smiling. “Okay,” she finally conceded, scooping Luca up from his playpen. “Hey, Ry. Come help me with Luca? I should show you his routine so you can babysit. Payback for doubting me and my man.” Tessa winked in my direction and Riley stood, sticking her tongue out at me, but then followed Tessa like a good little soldier.

  I turned my attention back to the game when I knew they were on their way upstairs. “Shit! They’re all tied up. How’d they do that?”

  “Jeter homered and brought in two runs. Reminds me of the playoff days. I hope they make it this year. We could catch a post-season game together—bleacher seats, of course.” He seemed enthusiastic, but also distant. Huh. Look at me noticing shit like that.

  “You alright, dude? Riley told me about Marissa. I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty friend. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  With his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, Beck finally looked up at me with a pained expression. “There’s someone else.”

  “Who? Marissa’s fucking around on you?” Bitch. She always rubbed me the wrong way.

  “No! I’ve met someone else.”

  “Whoa! Wait. Really? I didn’t see this one coming. You were about to ask Marissa to move in with you, no? How’d this happen?”

  He scrubbed his hands down his face, standing up. He paced as he spoke choppy, incoherent sentences. “I don’t know how the fuck it happened. How did you and Tessa happen? Shit like this, sometimes… it just… happens.”

  “Okaaaayy. Well are you sure you want to leave Marissa for this girl? I mean, is it serious or just a cold feet kinda thing?”

  “No, dude. I’m all fucked up. I really like this girl. It’s different and unexpected, but I can’t pass this up. So, I did the right thing. I ended it with Marissa, came forward and told her the truth, but… I don’t know… just sucks because she’s a good person and she doesn’t deserve this. I hate that I’ve hurt her, but…”

  “Listen,” I butted in. Beck looked like he was ready to hurl. I hated seeing him so flustered over a girl… or two… but I understood now. “You have to go with your gut, man. You can’t stay with someone just because you want to be the nice guy. I may be late to the love fest, but I get it now. Everyone deserves to be happy—in love—with that special someone and if Marissa isn’t that girl, maybe new girl is.”

  “It’s complicated,” he huffed out, collapsing back down on the couch.

  “Oh, I don’t know complicated? Complications mean shit. If she’s worth it, you look past all that and fight for what you want.” Hey, maybe I wasn’t half bad at dishing out the wisdom. Sure I was a newbie when it came to relationships, but I felt proud, accomplished, and the refreshed look on Beck’s face told me I did my deed as an advice-slinging friend.

  “You good?”

  “Better.” He nodded.

  “Good because I think you left your balls in the kitchen with Tessa.”

  “Shut the fuck up, dick. Here I was thinking you actually grew a heart and you’re just the same old douche hiding behind an amazing girl.”

  He was right about one thing—Tessa was the cream of the fucking crop when it came to girlfriends, but he was also wrong. “Nah, the douche is gone for good. I’m hanging that hat and donning this new one—there’s something really fucking incredible about finding someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Don’t you think?”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Beck got down on his knees, his hands clasped together as if he were praying. “I’ve just witnessed a goddamn miracle and I ain’t talking about the Yankees’ comeback.”

  “Dick! Get up!”

  And just like that, for the next few months, all was right with the world and things were back to normal—well the new normal. Instead of hanging around at a bar scoping out the next hook up, or eyeing up one of Riley’s new friends for an easy one night stand I spent most of my Friday and Saturday nights at Tessa’s with her and Luca man. Sunday was reserved for supper with Dad. Tessa and Luca came along most of the time—my father loved her, and the way she transformed me, or at least that’s how he put it. But as happy as everyone seemed, there was a new problem on the horizon. One that was niggling at me—yes, I said niggling—keeping me up at night, making me anxious and giddy and just plain out of my fucking bird.

  The more time I spent with Tessa the more I fell in love with her and the more I fell in love with her the more I knew I had to make her mine… forever. It didn’t matter that we were only dating, seriously, a few months. I knew she was the one. She was the only one. Other than tattooing her name across my chest, I could only think of one other way to make things permanent.

  “Cutesy or predictable?” Luca’s Halloween themed birthday was coming up—he needed the best costume. I stood amidst racks and racks of costumes, holding up both an adorable lion outfit, complete with mane and tail, and a cowboy get-up that brought back fond memories of the man standing before me.

  When Marcus rolled his eyes at me, I sighed, “I want the birthday boy’s costume to stand out and be memorable, not something generic. Come on. Help me decide already!”

  Marcus shook his head, frustrated. “You’ve been searching for this damn thing since Labor Day. You’d think you’d have your mind made up by now. His party’s in two weeks. Get your act together, Mommy.” I razzed the almost-birthday-boy on the cheek and laughed at his squirmy reaction. “What are we going to do with her, Luca?”

  Luca grabbed Marcus’s nose, giggling at the silly expression on his face. Those two had bonded in a way I could never have imagined in the last few months. It was priceless. But the double teaming thing—nope, I wasn’t having it. Not now and especially not when Luca would be able to talk back and mimic his smart-ass role model.

  “Why don’t you make the decision since he’s obvious
ly your number one fan?” I hung the two costumes back on their racks, pouting.

  “Aw, what’s that? Mommy’s a little jealous, Luca man. Sounds like a cry for help if you ask me. Not getting enough one-on-one time with your devastatingly handsome boyfriend, huh?” He joked and it did the trick in making me laugh, but there was actual truth behind his words.

  My usual sitter, Trish, was having family issues so she hadn’t been free to babysit for the last few weekends and Riley… God, she was a mess. Things with her and Beck were still up in the air, and still top secret which meant that most of the time she was a raging bitch on wheels. But I was dying for a night alone with Marcus and I needed a break from the stress of planning Luca’s first birthday, too.

  “God, Marcus,” I whined. “I mean, no offense to Luca, but I could really use a night out. We’re becoming those old boring homebody types, watching our kid’s every fart as if it’s the most amazing thing in the world.”

  Marcus’s eyes went wide and I couldn’t help but wonder what warranted such an unexpected reaction. Was it that I said fart? Was that a turn off? “What? What did I say?”

  “It’s nothing.” He beamed—his face totally lit up, but he was holding back by bringing his attention back to a Buzz Lightyear ensemble.

  With my hand on my hip I chastised him. “Marcus Grayson I’ve known you—and that thing you do with your nose when you’re hiding something—long enough to know that it’s not nothing. Spill.”

  In one fluid motion he kissed Luca on his cheek, swiveled toward me, and then planted a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. Luca wriggled between us, squeezed by the sandwich we created around him. When Marcus pulled back, I stared into his eyes. They were glowing—with pride, with happiness, with love. “You said our kid,” he beamed.

  I stared at him, narrowing my eyes as he continued, “Just then, when you were talking about us not getting out much and how we’re always home watching him… fart.” He whispered the last word, so the elderly woman and her granddaughter modeling a princess gown close by wouldn’t hear.

  I couldn’t control the giggle that escaped me. He looked adorable, trying to be polite and proper while sporting two full sleeves of tattoos and a Harley Davidson baseball cap.

  “Shit, your brain is mush these days, or maybe I’m just looking too deep into it, but baby, you called him ours and it made me proud as fuck.”

  Now that the woman heard and covered the little princess’s ears before walking away, sneering. When she was gone, and I finally processed everything, I realized that I did indeed refer to Luca as ours. I was sure I’d done it before, as a slip of the tongue, but maybe I hadn’t. Maybe it was just subconscious—Marcus loved Luca as much as he loved me. It was evident in everything he did and now, seeing him so ecstatic over that one simple word, I didn’t have the heart to downplay it.

  “Well, if the shoe fits…” I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lower lip.

  His eyes focused on my mouth, his own tongue darting out to trace the plumpness of his smiling lips. It was that simple—one look had me wishing we weren’t stuck in a Halloween store, with my son and a crowd full of people.

  “Call Riley,” he growled. “Date night. Tonight.” His dark, heated gaze roamed the entire length of my body before landing back on the tiny package of mini-person in his arms. “Sorry Little Man, but your Mommy’s hot and I can’t wait to get my hands all over her.”

  “Would you just go already? I know where everything is and he’ll be fine. He loves his Auntie Riley. Now leave us be and go be your sickeningly adorable selves.” Riley shooed us out the door, toting a pajama-clad toddler on her hip. Luca wasn’t fazed; in fact, I think he was getting sick of my mug, so I just gave him a quick kiss and waved goodbye as I followed Marcus down the driveway. I stopped short. “You didn’t.” I brought my hands up to my mouth, shocked by the sight before me.

  “Oh, I did.” Marcus handed me a cherry red helmet with the words Marcus’s Girl scrolled across the back. It matched the detail of the beautiful monster purring in my driveway.

  “When?”

  “Does it matter? I was waiting for the perfect time to surprise you. Come, hop on… I’ll take you for a ride.”

  The last time he took me for a ride on the back of a bike… mmm. I needed a night like that. I skipped around the bike and closer to him, my enthusiasm pouring out of me uncontrollably. “I love surprises like these!”

  “Well then, good.” He strapped on his helmet and then leaned in for a quick kiss. “Because I have another surprise at dinner.” After one more delicate kiss, he spun on his heels and straddled the bike. When he looked over his shoulder—Jesus Christ, he smoldered—it was a sight that caused dampness in my panties and had my legs begging to be wrapped around him. I was glad to oblige.

  Marcus pulled my hair to the side, twisting it into one section and tucking it under my new, personalized helmet as he placed it on my head. With an appreciative grin, I climbed on the back of the bike and threw my arms around Marcus’s solid frame. God, I loved being in this moment, in this position, wrapped around my man. There was nothing like it. “Ready, baby,” I said in his ear and without another word we were cruising down my street to the restaurant.

  When we pulled up to the casual dining spot, I tried ineffectively to hide my disappointment. Not because of the restaurant—this was my favorite place—but because Marcus didn’t deviate in his travels. He mentioned that he had more surprises for me and I was sure that one of them entailed a secluded spot where the two of us could reenact our first time on a bike together.

  Shaking my hair down from its knot, I handed the helmet back to Marcus, sulking. This whole scenario—the bike, my name on his helmet, the tight v-neck t-shirt that clung to his muscles and showcased his manly artwork—I was insatiable around him. Could you blame a girl for sulking? He was depriving me and I was hungry… just not for tacos.

  “Hey,” he mused, “why the pout, my love? Not in the mood for Mexican tonight?”

  I sauntered toward him, placing a hand on his chest, using my finger to trace a trail from his ink-covered neck to the waste of his jeans. “Mexican’s fine. Just thought you were taking me for a ride.” I air quoted the phrase, hoping he understood what I was getting at.

  Oh he got it. His eyes sparked to life and his arousal perked to attention underneath his sexy worn jeans. “We skipping dinner?” He was turning back toward the bike before I could even give him an answer and I was ready to oblige, but he stopped, his hand hovering over the helmet that dangled from the chrome handlebars. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but we can take a detour on the way home. I want my hands all over your slamming body, and my tongue—God, it’s craving to taste that sweet skin of yours…” His words came out on a hiss. I let out a soft, tortured moan because I sensed a ‘but.’

  “But…” And there it was. “I want to talk to you about something. I’ve been waiting for the right time and tonight is that time so… bike fucking will have to wait, pretty girl.”

  Bike fucking. When he put it like that… what the hell could be so important that he’d forgo christening his new baby with me?

  “Come. I promise to make it worth the wait.”

  “The bike fucking or whatever it is you need to tell me?”

  “Both.” He winked before guiding me toward the red doors of the restaurant with his hand at the small of my back. Whatever he had to say, I hoped it would be quick. My body thirsted for his hands all over me, not just on my back and over my clothing.

  Greeting the hostess, Marcus tangled his fingers with mine and said, “Reservation for Grayson. I spoke with the owner earlier.”

  My interests were definitely piqued. This place wasn’t the type for reservations. We usually sat in a booth, close to the sizzling heat of the busy kitchen, with a visit every now and then from the house mariachi band. Why did we need anything other than the usual?

  “Yes, Señor. Right this way.” The tiny woman hooked two menus under her arm and l
ed the way. We passed tables of patrons enjoying pitchers of homemade sangria and then swung by our usual booth. But to my surprise, we were taken through a set of rustic glass-paned doors to an outdoor patio area where the mariachi band was patiently waiting to greet us, equipped with massive smiles and authentic sombreros.

  “What’s all this?” I beamed at Marcus. “I didn’t even know this existed.”

  “I pulled out all the stops for you, pretty girl. Always will.”

  The three band members strummed their guitars and sang a Spanish rendition of Elvis’s Fools Rush In. The waitress placed the menus down and I went to sit, but Marcus took my hand and led me to the center of the patio to a cobblestone, makeshift dance floor. Suddenly, my heart was fluttering and my stomach was flopping around.

  “So?” he hummed into my ear as he swayed our bodies together. “What do you think?”

  What did I think? He kept hinting at a surprise. He went all out to make this night romantic and special. Was he…?

  “Tessa, calm down. I can feel your pulse jumping a mile a fucking minute. And while I may be a fool, I’m not rushing anything. Marriage can wait—we’re just getting started on this journey and I want to savor it. Doesn’t mean I’m not ready, but I know we need more time.”

  Oh, thank God. Not that I wouldn’t have said yes if he asked, but it was too soon to be talking about engagement. We still had a lot of growing to do—as individuals first and foremost. The couple thing—we had that down pat. “So then why all the pomp and circumstance?” I leaned into him, my eyes searching his.

  “Is that what this is?” He smirked. “I thought it was just a kind gesture for a well-deserved date night.”

  “Quit beating around the bush, bucko! If you’re not asking me to marry you what is all this fuss about?” I said it with as much flippancy as I could. I didn’t want him to think I was upset that he wasn’t proposing because I truly wasn’t.