Finding Rhythm

by Lara Ward Cosio

  “Well, it’s no fucking wonder, is it?” Martin understood a little more about her current system of taking lovers rather than engaging in relationships. Once burned, twice shy.

  “And it’s no wonder she’s feeding you a line about not wanting a man, right?”

  Martin thought about that for a moment. It could also explain her repeated comments on his marital state. The whole thing was complex. And personal. Too personal for someone like his brother-in-law to have all the details.

  “John?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know way too much about Lainey Keeler.”

  John took a deep breath and nodded. “Ay, I do.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Then they both started laughing.

  “I promise you, Marty,” John said, wiping a tear from his eye, “I’ll behave myself if you ever bring her around.”

  “No worries, there. I don’t imagine I’ll even see her again myself.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  “I’m told Prague is relatively accessible from Dublin.”

  Martin saw the text while he was waiting for the boys to finish brushing their teeth. It was his last night with them before they went back to Celia for a week. Though he wanted to reply right away, he spent the next forty-five minutes getting his rowdy kids to bed for the night.

  Once they were settled, he went to the living room and put on Wilco’s album Star Wars and sat on the sofa to read Lainey’s text again.

  It had been almost three months since he’d seen her for their night in London. He hadn’t heard a word since then, but boy had he thought about her. He’d also—finally—watched most of her movies. She was a phenomenal actress. He could see that she gave every performance everything she had, that she poured more than just the written words into it. There was an edge to her style, like she was trying to release a part of her tortured soul. No wonder she had burned out.

  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Hell, that wasn’t true. He wanted to tell her he would be there in a heartbeat. That he couldn’t wait to see her again. That he was dying to have her naked body pressed to his. The thought got him hard.

  But she had already made it clear she was only interested in an on-demand sexual relationship. And he refused that. So, here she was making the same request—that he drop everything and go to her for no-strings sex. He’d be a fool not to do it. But he’d be a bigger fool to do it. Because he liked her way too much.

  That didn’t stop him from replying, “Tell me where to find you. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  Lainey’s Premier Suite at the Four Seasons was similarly situated to her London hotel as it overlooked the river, but this time it was the Vltava River, with views of Charles Bridge and Prague Castle.

  Martin ignored the luxurious accommodations and ability to sightsee from the privacy of the hotel in favor of tossing his wool peacoat and scarf to the side, wrapping his arms around Lainey’s waist, and picking her up so he could kiss her deeply. He knew this was why he was here, so he’d better just get to it.

  She seemed to agree, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. This time, she wore a skirt, and he soon found she wore nothing under it. Except his greedy hands.

  “Fuck, Lainey,” he breathed.

  Pulling away, she dropped down to her feet and he followed after her in a lust-filled haze. Though it was a cold November day, late afternoon sunlight streamed through the open curtains. The river below undulated and sparkled, but all Martin saw was Lainey as she undressed until she was nude.

  As he reached for her, she pushed him into the armchair that was positioned as a viewing point for the city sights outside. He sat still and watched as she kneeled between his legs. With a slowness he knew was designed to torture him, she undid his belt, and pulled open his jeans. When she had him fully released, she kept eye contact as she used two hands to stroke him. He pressed his feet into the floor and grabbed the armrests on the chair when she took him into her mouth. The pressure and movement of her tongue as she kept a tight suction was unbelievable. But it was her desire to please him that had him close to the edge too soon.

  “Lainey, hold on,” he said. But she knew what she was doing to him and didn’t stop. So he didn’t stop, and it was the best orgasm he had had in a long time.

  Depleted, he sat back in the chair and his entire body went limp. Lainey disappeared and when she came back, she was in a short rose-colored silk robe.

  He pulled himself together and she climbed onto his lap.

  “Aren’t you glad you came to Prague?” she asked with a smile.

  Martin laughed and squeezed her to him. She tucked her head into his neck but he wasn’t about to let this turn into a cuddle. He slipped his hand between her legs, finding her slick and ready.

  “Now I need you to come for me,” he told her.

  She breathed heavily and arched her back as he pushed two fingers inside her. Her robe fell open, exposing her breasts. Her nipples were rigid, rising and falling as she rocked her hips against his hand. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. Getting her off was his new favorite thing.

  Two hours went by as they devoured each other’s bodies and traded orgasms. Finally, they lay slackly on the bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Lainey traced Martin’s newest tattoo with her fingertips, lingering on the name of each of his children, before repeating the trace.

  “I am starved,” Martin said. “You’re an animal. You took it all out of me.”

  Lainey laughed. “I’m hungry, too.”

  “Room service?”

  “No, let’s go out.”

  “Out?” He was surprised she was willing to risk being recognized.

  “Seems safe enough if we’re all bundled up in our winter clothes.”

  “Grand.”

  “First, let’s shower.”

  The look in her eye let him know he would be getting dirty once more before he got clean, and it made him smile.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  The hotel was located in Prague’s Old Town neighborhood, with shops and restaurants within walking distance. Deciding to keep it casual, and on the recommendation of the concierge, they went to a brewery near Prague Castle, in the old Strahov Monastery. It was a nondescript white building but housed a cozy interior, including large copper distilleries for the beer they produced onsite. Martin and Lainey grabbed the last free booth and settled in at a scarred wooden table, piling their heavy coats in the seats next to them.

  Martin ordered the brewery’s seasonal dark beer and Lainey asked for an amber. They let their hunger dictate and asked for more food than they needed, including a cheese and fig jam starter, beer-onion soup with cheese toast, brewery goulash, pork schnitzel, and spareribs in beer marinade.

  “Have you been to Prague before?” Lainey asked.

  “A few times, with the band.”

  “So you must know the city, then?”

  “Not as well as I’d like, but a bit. I spent a lot of years letting the world go by me, you know? Not engaging the way I should. Or at least not in the way I want to now.”

  “I feel a little like that, but mostly because I was so intense about my job. So, whenever I was in a fantastic city like this, I just kept my head down, worried about studying my lines or just wanting to be sure I was fresh and ready for the next shoot. Now, I look back and think of all the amazing things I missed out on.”

  “There’s time yet, isn’t there?” he asked with a smile.

  “That’s what we always tell ourselves, isn’t it?” she asked.

  He watched as her eyes fell to his hands. She fixed on his wedding ring. The damn ring he still hadn’t taken off. It wasn’t because he was holding out hope of getting back with Celia. It wasn’t really to assure his kids of anything, because they were well aware of the separation. It was the symbolism removing it represented that made him hesitate. Once the ring was gone, he would officially be another person. A single man for the first time in his adult life
. He’d be responsible for setting his own course in this new direction, which while it was what he wanted, it still felt daunting to make that final push away from the stable dock his old self represented. He was trying to think of how to explain this to Lainey when she spoke again.

  “I was sorry to hear about your friend, Christian Hale.”

  Martin was surprised—both that she knew about his connection to Christian and that she’d brought it up at all. Most people hesitated to broach the subject of death, especially suicide. “Em, thanks. It was rough. Unexpected, you know?”

  She nodded and was quiet. He realized she had a way of raising a sensitive topic and leaving it open for whether he wanted to engage in it or not. It was nice. Not nosey or prodding like Celia or Ashley.

  “And you’re filming here for a bit?” he asked, deciding to leave the topic of Christian.

  “Re-shoots. Something didn’t go right the first time, so we have to replicate a few scenes.”

  “Will you have time to explore the city?”

  “I actually came in a day early for that very purpose,” she said with a smile.

  They chatted easily, eating and drinking until they were full. Being in Lainey’s company was so comfortable. She was smart, interesting, flirty—all the things you’d want in a date. But Martin had to remind himself that they were not on a date.

  When they stepped out of the brewery, there was a light snowfall coming down from the dark sky.

  “Oh, wow,” Lainey said. She looked up, her face suddenly full of childlike wonder.

  “Don’t get much of this in California, I suppose,” Martin said.

  “No. It’s beautiful. Let’s go for a walk in it.”

  He agreed and took her hand into his. They wandered the streets, admiring the eclectic mix of Baroque, Renaissance, Neoclassicism, and Art Nouveau architectural styles, before finding their way to Charles Bridge. The city’s famous bridge dated back to the 1300s and was both gothic and baroque, with thirty statues of saints standing watch over the length of it. It was almost eleven o’clock and there were very few others out in the light snow, making their walk along the bridge all the more romantic. They had a view of both sides of the city, with the spires of Prague Castle dominating the skyline and the red-tiled rooftops of the other buildings muted by the dark skies. With the snow still falling, the water softly illuminated below by the bridge lamps, and the buildings glowing in the near distance, it was a lovely spot for a date. Had this been a date. Martin reminded himself again that Lainey had relegated him to the status of “hookup.”

  They passed by a teenage couple conspiring between kisses to close a lock onto the spot of the bridge where countless others had done the same thing.

  “Should we tell them?” Lainey asked.

  “Tell them what?”

  “That love can’t be locked up.”

  “Such a cynic, Lainey,” Martin said with a laugh. “Let them believe in love.” He paused. “I still believe in it.”

  “They’ll learn the hard way, I suppose.”

  “Aw, who broke your heart, honey?” he asked lightly, trying to soften the question.

  “A bad married man,” she replied and cocked an eyebrow. For a second, he thought she meant him. “I was too young, but, of course, I thought I knew everything. He was a producer. I was convinced he would leave his wife and we’d live happily ever after. Didn’t exactly happen like that. I was devastated. No big deal, really. Everyone gets their heart broken at some point, right?”

  Her description glossed over the controversy John had described. Lainey had put it in basic terms, downplaying what had really happened. She obviously didn’t want to share more, but Martin couldn’t stop from challenging her blasé attitude.

  “That was about the time that you took yourself out of the industry,” he said.

  She looked surprised, and then resigned to the fact that he had searched for details on her. “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “It all worked out. I got away, got an education.”

  “And then came back.”

  As she stared at him silently, something clicked. She hadn’t longed to get back into acting because storytelling was her calling. Something or someone had brought her back.

  Martin shook his head, uncomprehending. “It was him, wasn’t it? The same married man as before who brought you back? And then, what? He led you on again? Let you down again?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” Lainey said and started walking.

  Martin followed after her. “Is that why you live the way you do? Thinking maybe he’ll finally choose you if you just wait long enough?”

  “Stop,” she said. “Stop. You have no idea.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Lainey, just tell me if I have it right.”

  “No, I won’t. Because you have no right to know any of that.” She jerked away from his grasp. “And if you tell anyone in the media, I’ll—”

  “You’ll fuck off with that,” he said quickly. “Don’t you dare go back to insulting me with that. He may have played games in the media with you, but that’s something I would never do. You hear me?”

  “Fine. Okay.”

  “And damn it, why don’t I have a right to know this about you? I know about your shitty relationship with your mother, and your cutting, and your fucking sexist co-workers. You’ve let me know a lot about you, and guess what? I like you. A whole fucking lot. So, don’t tell me I don’t have any right to know whether you’re still waiting on this guy.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  He waited for her to say more, saw the tears forming in her eyes as she looked away from him.

  “I did come back for him,” she finally said, her voice catching. “But nothing ever happened because the first time he canceled on me I realized what a fool I was. I put an end to it before it started again. That was five years ago. I haven’t been with him in a very long time. I’m not waiting for him. I like the life I’ve created. I enjoy my work, and my photography, and time on my own. I’ve already told you I don’t want a relationship—not with anyone. You don’t have the right to judge the way I live my life just because you don’t like it.”

  That struck a chord with him. He took a deep breath and looked out at the dark water running under the bridge. She was right. He had pushed too hard, forcing her to tell him more than she wanted. And yet, she had never pushed him to explain his marriage or all the reasons it failed. He hadn’t given her the same respect.

  “Lainey, I’m sorry,” he said. He moved closer to her but she backed away. “Listen, you’re right. I have no right to judge anything about you. I’m sorry I pushed you to talk about all this.”

  She wouldn’t look at him and it pained him. They had shared such a good connection, and all he wanted was to restore it.

  “You want to know why I haven’t taken off my ring?” he asked.

  That got her to make eye contact. But she was silent, not giving him the satisfaction of a reply.

  “Because I’m afraid. Not afraid that it’ll mean my marriage is really over. I already know it is,” he said. “I’m afraid of how taking it off represents that I’ve made this big decision to be on my own, to opening myself up to being a different person. I’m afraid I’ll fail at it. I’m afraid that I’ve got it all wrong, and that maybe I really am the person Celia thinks I am—too stupid to figure out anything on my own.” As he said his wife’s name, he realized it was the first time he had ever done that with Lainey. It had always felt wrong to speak too much about Celia with the other women he slept with. But Lainey wasn’t in that category. She was more. Or, at least, he had hoped she would be.

  The silence after his confession was awful. He regretted every word and started to turn away when she stepped in front of him.

  “That’s not true,” she said. “You know it, Martin.”

  This assurance was nice, but he still felt too raw and exposed by what he said to look at her.

&
nbsp; Placing her hand on his chest, she raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. As she pulled away, she said, “I know it.”

  There was only a moment’s hesitation before he pulled her into his arms and held her. She wrapped her arms around him in return and they stood in the quiet of the mostly empty bridge for a long moment.

  “It’s getting cold,” she said finally. It had stopped snowing, but the air had taken a biting turn.

  Martin rubbed her shoulders. “Let’s get back to the hotel,” he said. “We’ll get you warm.”

  She nodded and they started walking, still holding on to each other.

  Lainey still had a chill when they got back to her room, so Martin suggest she take a soak in the large claw foot tub.

  “Join me?” she asked as she pulled off her top.

  As usual, he had a difficult time refusing her. They made themselves comfortable with lots of bath gel to make bubbles in the warm water and with her back against his chest. It was the first time he had ever bathed with a woman. Celia had hated the few times he’d tried to shower with her. But it felt relaxing and intimate, making him wonder if Lainey did this with her lovers.

  Because he wanted to show her he was resigned to—and not judgmental of—how she lived her life, he asked, “Tell me again how it works with these men you take as your lovers.” He trailed a wet washcloth over her belly.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “First, how many have you got?”

  “Three.”

  The number made his eyebrows jump. “Including me?”

  “No. You said you weren’t up for it.” She took his hand into both of hers and examined it before lacing her fingers with his.

  “But you texted me anyway.”

  “I thought I’d try. I think you know I was very happy to see you.”

  The image of her naked and kneeling before him came to mind and his cock twitched in response, but he wasn’t ready to stop exploring the topic he’d brought up.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said. “Do you talk with these lovers of yours the way you do with me?”