Please forgive me.
I love you.
IT’S TOO WARM IN MY room…too warm in my bed. Heat sticks to me like a humid second skin, yet I’m too tired to kick the comforter off. Besides, the warmth seems to be radiating at my back, and it’s moving…breathing…
“You up?” The sound of his voice cuts through the darkness and pierces straight into my heart.
“Yeah.”
It’s quiet and still for a beat. I want to turn around to face him, but I don’t want to be presumptuous about his presence. He could just be here to tell me he’s done with me. And if that’s the case, I’d rather cry without an audience.
“I got your message.”
“Yeah?”
“You still love me?”
My whole body feels like he’s just let the air out of me. “Of course I do.”
“And there’s nothing else? No one else?”
“There will never be anyone else. Even when there was, it’s always been you. And it’ll always be you.”
He moves in closer, pressing his front to my back. “You know you broke my heart, right?”
“I know. And I’m sorry. But you have to know…I never meant for it to go on this long. I even tried to tell you. I came to see you.”
“What?” He sits up on his shoulder and gently pushes me so my back is flat on the bed. I look up at his beautiful moonlit face and wonder how I could ever live without seeing it again.
“I came to see you. It was a year or two after you had gone. You were on tour, opening up for some boy band here in Seattle. So I scrounged up all the money I had, told my parents I was staying with Haze, and took a bus to try to see you. I thought maybe if you saw me, I could convince you to stay. Or maybe just find out why you left without saying goodbye. And if I had the chance, I would tell you…I would tell you about the pregnancy.
“I couldn’t afford a backstage pass and couldn’t get the cash without tipping off my parents. So I hung out around the back where I saw a crowd of girls huddling, waiting for you to finish your set. When you came outside to sign autographs and talk to your fans, I remember thinking that I hardly recognized you. Your hair was different, lighter. You had put on some weight and a good amount of muscle. And you were taller. You even had tattoos. But even with all that, you still were just Riot to me, and I was so happy to see you, so hopelessly in love with you still, and so proud…God, Riot. You were amazing. You were a star.
“I called your name but so did twenty other girls. And when it was my turn to pass up my autograph book, I just knew it would get your attention. It was our notebook—the notebook we used to write lyrics in together. All I needed you to do was flip it open and you would see it. And you would see me.
“You signed it, passed it over, and I held my breath when you looked up and smiled at me. But it wasn’t me you were really smiling at. You were just going through the motions, giving the same flirty grin to every teenage girl, even letting that smile linger longer for the ones that wore baby tees and spaghetti strap tops. But you never saw me. You just passed over the notebook and went to the next girl, like I was just another one of your fans.”
“Rox.” He brushes my dark tresses from over my brow, while his gaze searches my features. “I…I don’t even remember that. We had been hitting a different city every other day. I was exhausted. I promise, I didn’t know.”
“How could you? I didn’t stand out amongst those other girls and I was naive to think you would remember me. But I still had hope. Even when you grabbed two girls wearing low cut tops and short skirts out of the crowd and took them backstage with you, I told myself that you were just putting on a show for the fans. Probably going to take a couple pictures and send them on their way. I was even silly enough to believe you would take an hour out of your evening to come to my house to see me before moving on to the next city. And I know DeDe went to your show… You didn’t even ask her about me.”
“I know. I know I was fucked up, Rox. I know.” He heaves out a heavy breath. “Do you even know why I left in the first place? I wanted to make something of myself and come back for you. This guy approached me and DeDe after a talent show, said he wanted to talk. I know we had made plans, but he said he was the real deal, and he wanted to make an EP. I was star struck. And scared. I was afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to let you down. So I told myself I’d go out to LA, record a few tracks, make a little money, buy us a place, then move you down there with me so we could make it big together. Then…I just got swept up in all of it. The parties, the alcohol, the drugs, the money…the women. Everything became so easy for me. And after being told every single day by my asshole stepdad that I’d never amount to anything, it felt good to be sought after. Strangers worshipped me. And I let it go to my head.”
“I understand. And I was happy for you, really. But the more time passed, the lonelier I got. And loneliness turned to anger. And then I didn’t feel so bad for terminating the pregnancy. I thought it wouldn’t have mattered to you anyway. You didn’t want me. Why would you want a baby with me?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true, Rox. You know I would have been right by your side if I had known.”
“And you would have grown to resent me for it. You would have begun to hate me for the life I stole from you—the life you should’ve had. And I didn’t want that for either of us.”
He casts his gaze down and nods. “I don’t blame you, you know. And I could never hate you. I owe you an apology for the things I said. It was your choice to make, and I didn’t leave you much choice or support in the matter. It isn’t fair to expect you to commit your life to me after I was so quick to exclude you from mine. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” I smile, but it feels sad. Like, even though it happened long ago, a part of me is mourning with him. “It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. And honestly, it wasn’t a decision I made at all.”
“I know. DeDe told me.”
“DeDe?”
When we said goodbye at the center days ago, she held me close and whispered something in my ear that nearly stunned me to tears. All that time, I had no idea she knew. It must’ve hurt her deeply to know that she could have had a grandchild when she was missing her son so much. And to have kept that secret all these years…I don’t even know how she found out.
“She told me she knew, but never told a soul. She didn’t think it was her place to tell you what to do with your body. And you were so sad…as much as it killed her, she thought maybe it would bring you some peace. Everyone was making decisions for themselves, either worried about my career or what the neighbors would think or how it would look to the outside world. Yet, no one stopped to think about what was happening to you. No matter what you chose, either way, your life would be permanently altered. Yet, everyone else would get to move on, including me.”
“Did she tell you what she told me the other day?” I can’t repeat it. My heart is already in my throat.
Riot nods. “She told me she said, “He would have made a great dad. I hope you two get a second chance.” ”
I bite down on my trembling lower lip before whispering, “She’s right. You would have made a great daddy. And you will…some day.”
“And that second chance?” A little flutter of hope filters into his voice.
“You still want one? After everything that’s happened?”
Riot leans down to place a sweet kiss on my lips. And my entire frame melts beneath him. “I want all your chances, Rox. Every last one of them for the rest of our lives. But I promise you, I’m only going to use one more.”
“And what about your career, your lifestyle…Poppy?”
“Other than a couple regrettable nights of me trying to convince myself that I could live without you, could you see yourself fitting into my life?”
I take a minute to contemplate his question, but honestly, I don’t even need it. Riot isn’t how he’s perceived in the media, or even how he portrays himself on his person
al accounts. He’s not jetting off to Vegas on private planes in the middle of the night to hit up strip clubs. He isn’t on nude beaches surrounded by random topless women. And he isn’t coasting down Hollywood Boulevard with a blunt in his hand and a chick’s face in his lap.
Riot may have let people believe certain things about him, and maybe even generated those images himself. But no one knows him like I do. And no one is better suited for his world than me.
“Easy, Blufield. Maybe you should be asking if you can fit into mine,” I beam. Happy tears gleam in my eyes.
“Oh, if I recall correctly, I fit just fine last night. Nice and snug, just how I like it.” His gaze darkens to a smoldering cobalt.
“Maybe you do. But you won’t get to retest that theory until you resolve whatever you’ve got going with Poppy.”
I expect a little resistance. Riot and Poppy have been the It Couple for years and have been come an international sensation. But Riot simply shrugs like dissolving his relationship/business agreement is no big deal.
“I’ll tell her when she gets back. It’s not like people will think this came out of left field. I’ll even let her say she broke it off with me after finding out about our past. But please know, Poppy and I are done, and have been done for a while. I don’t love her. And when I thought I did, it wasn’t like this. It was never how I love you.” He pulls me close, until our bodies are only a breath away. “This is where I wanna be. Right here, with you in my arms. This is how it was always supposed to be.”
“I CAN’T DO THIS.”
“Yes, you can, baby. Just relax.”
“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t think I can. I’m scared.”
“I’m right here with you. We’ll take it slow. I promise you, it won’t be like this every time.”
I grimace. “This isn’t me, Riot. I’ve never done this before.”
“Remember I told you I would claim all your firsts? I meant that shit. Now, it may be a little uncomfortable at first, but it will get better, I promise. And once you do it the first time, you’ll wonder why you were so afraid. Now, come on. Let’s do it.”
Riot eases his finger off the button and flips on the track just as I ease my headphones back on. The strum of a guitar kicks off the intro and I do my best to relax enough to add a few simple runs, trying to catch the vibe. Head nodding, I flick my gaze up to find Riot doing the same, his gaze sultry and intense. He’s not trying to intimidate me. He just believes in this song so much—believes in me so much—that he wants to get it right. These are our lyrics—our hearts stripped and condensed down to ink and paper, then translated into song. No one else could perform it with as much conviction and emotion as us. And while Riot is the love of my life, he’s still a pro, and he wouldn’t insist on me singing it with him unless he knew I was the right one for the job.
I hold up a hand, signaling him to stop.
“That was good. What’s wrong?” he asks over the intercom on the other side of the soundproof glass.
“I can do better,” I answer. “I want to do better.”
Riot gives me seductive half grin that instantly makes my panties wet. “There she is,” he croons, repeating the words he said to me when I challenged him days ago. “Ok, from the top.”
We record my vocals for hours, and I hate to admit it, but Riot is right. It does get easier. And before the mid-afternoon, I’ve pretty much completed my verse, adlibs, and the harmony for the chorus and bridge. I guess it’s a good thing that Riot and I actually slept last night, as I insisted. There’s no way I would have been able to sing a single note if I had been screaming into the pillow while he plowed me from behind. Plus, I wanted to make it clear that I wouldn’t commit to being his until he handled things with Poppy.
“If you show me how to work the board, I can help,” I tell him after I’ve come out of the booth. To be honest, all I see are a bunch of levers and switches and buttons that don’t make any sense. But I’m learning, stepping out of my comfort zone and all that jazz. Plus, now that I’m unemployed, maybe it’s time to open myself up to new experiences. I’m excited to see what’s next.
Riot gives me a skeptical look. “You barely made it out of that booth without having a nervous breakdown. Let’s not push it.”
He pushes back from the board so he can grab me by the hips and pull me down into his lap. I giggle like an idiot. He kisses me like I’m the very breath that sustains him. And I think to myself, it doesn’t get any better than this. How many people are this lucky? I’m with my first love and my best friend. There is no one in this world that will love me like he does. Because even when hate each other, we still love each other. Even when the love subsides, we will still have the foundation of friendship. We were each other’s first, and hopefully, we’ll be each other’s last. Anyone in between is obsolete.
“I’ve always wanted to do it in here,” Riot mumbles against my lips.
“Oh yeah? Kinda small, don’t you think?”
“All we need is a chair.”
I trace my lips with his tongue. “So I have to do all the work?”
He nips my mouth playfully. “If you want to bend over the board, I’m cool with that too.”
“I don’t know…” I squirm on his lap as his hand snakes up my shirt.
“Well, I’m already rock hard for you. How ‘bout we try it out?”
“Mmmm,” I groan, grinding my ass onto his very obvious erection. “How about…no.”
I jump up and run out of the room, squealing and laughing as Riot chases me. I narrowly miss the coffee table to get to the far wall that hosts the cushioned bench. He’s right on my tail, less than a yard from tackling me. I make a hard turn right just before I go crashing into the huge wall of window and make a run for the bed. And just as I leap onto the mattress, he strikes like a panther and pins me down.
“You know that’s gonna cost you, right?” he pants, clasping my hands over my head.
“Sorry. I just lost my job. Is there some other way I can repay you?” I lift my hips to rub against him.
“I can think of a few ways. Besides, I have enough money.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Blufield,” I purr in a teasing tone. “We might get caught. And you’re so powerful and experienced. However shall I settle the debt?”
The idea of role playing has Riot’s dick twitching on my inner thigh. And while I did say we couldn’t mess around until he ended things with Poppy, I can’t see how I can pass up the opportunity to…
The intercom sounds, causing Riot to spit out a frustrated curse. “Don’t move,” he tells me, loosening his grip on my wrists. “I mean it. This isn’t over.”
“Were we ever over?” I shoot back.
His eyes flare with surprise when he remembers that he said those very same words to me on his terrace. This isn’t over. And while he may have meant that particular conversation wasn’t over, the connotation is not lost on either of us.
He shoots me a devious look that promises more fun and games once he’s dealt with whoever is summoning him and picks up the phone. But as soon as he picks up, his expression changes.
“When?” His frown deepens. “Fuck. Ok. I’m coming down now.”
I come up on my knees, my expression pinched with worry. “What’s wrong?”
Riot shakes his head, but says the one name I had been dreading. “Poppy.”
“She’s here?”
“Yeah. Apparently, she came back from Miami early. I’m so sorry, Rox.”
“Don’t be,” I reply, reaching my hand out to grasp his. “We knew this was coming.”
“I know. I just…Even with all the tabloid secrets and shit, these past few days have been the best I’ve had in a while. Just hanging out with you and writing with you and having sex with you…” He winks, and I have to remind myself that his quasi-girlfriend is downstairs. “I don’t have this with anyone else. I’ve never had this with anyone else. And I’m not ready for it to end.”
I slide off the bed an
d squeeze his hand. “It doesn’t have to.”
We make our way downstairs, and while I may talk a good game, I’m nervous as hell. Poppy is barely one hundred pounds and would probably sue if someone looked at her funny, but I’ve never been in this position before. I’ve never played the role of the side chick. And can I really be a side chick if I was here first? Still, I don’t take pleasure in hurting anyone, even pretentious, snooty mean girls who literally tried to get me raped. And while Poppy may deserve everything that’s coming to her, I don’t know how I feel about being the one to deliver that karma.
Our hands are intertwined the entire way down the stairs, but before we hit the living room, I pull away. Riot looks at me and frowns.
“Let’s not flaunt it in her face. It’ll only add fuel to the fire.”
He nods and stuffs his hand in his pocket.
From the hall, we can see there is quite the crowd gathered: Poppy, her model friends, Yasmin and Landon, Kaz, Jonas, Heidi, the camera crew, security, and another man I’ve never seen before. And I thought Jonas’s suit was shiny. Holy shit. I don’t know if this dude is part unicorn or wants aliens to admire his fashion from space.
I expect a scowl, a snide remark, an eye roll—something—but Poppy is all smiles as we approach. Which spells serious trouble.
“Oh, yay. The gang’s all here,” she bubbles.
“Yeah. Which is good because I have something to tell you,” Riot starts in. Oh shit, he’s doing this now? In front her friends and the cameras? I shoot him a look that screams abort, abort! But he is so focused on ripping off this Band-Aid that he’s not even realizing that it’s a huge, bloody bullet wound.
“Me first!” Poppy trills. “First of all, I want to apologize to all of you for my behavior. I know I haven’t been myself. And now that I’ve gotten some time and space to clear my head, I’ve realized why I’ve been so sick and cranky.”
Sick and cranky? Try drunk and bitchy.
Poppy reaches into her bag and thrusts a black-and-white photo into Riot’s pale, horrified face. “Congratulations, Daddy! We’re going to have a baby!”
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