by L. B. Dunbar
“Ivy told me.”
Tommy nods again. I was a mess when I found out, but I’ve settled into the fact the girl I’m crazy about is carrying the baby of my best friend…and I finger fucked her a few hours ago. Without thinking, I swipe my fingers under my nose, hoping for another whiff of her. Her scent is long gone, though, and I’m sorry for it.
“I have to make her my priority right now, being without her mother and all.”
I agree. Ivy’s scared. She told me, but Ivy’s stronger than her uncle gives her credit for. She survived her mother, for one thing. Kit could be a raving bitch. She had expectations and standards, and God help anyone who got in her way. She was super sexual, but I can’t say that made her affectionate. I’ve already noticed Ivy freely gives touches and caresses—a hand over my wrist or a stroke of my jaw—but I’ve seen her do it with others as well. She’s sweeter than Kit. Not as edgy or rough.
“I understand,” I say, because I do, but I still don’t think taking care of his niece is the full story. “Gonna miss the music?”
His lips twist while he ponders my question. “I’ve missed the music for a long time. So much drama in the way of everything else. That’s another thing you’ll want to watch. Drama.” He tips his head toward Petty, and I turn to see him getting a face full of fruity drink, umbrella included. It hits his chin and falls to the floor. With a hearty chuckle, he wipes down his face and leans forward toward the girl. She smiles coyly and then tips up to kiss his chin. I shake my head.
“I guess I don’t need you as a manager after all. I mean, if you’re giving me free advice, why would I pay you?”
Tommy chuckles. “First lesson already learned.”
Even though I laugh with him, I know there will be so many more lessons, and I’d still like him as the teacher.
11
IVY
The boys decide on a swim with the sea turtles excursion, and Gage asked to me go with them. I was actually excited about the trip until we did what we did and I saw him the next day, all grumpy and moody. Something is up with him, and I definitely think it’s all my fault.
“I’m not feeling so good,” I say by way of excuse as the boys gather their things. How can men travel so minimally while I have two bags filled with just my towel, lotion, and a few other necessities? I touch my stomach for emphasis. Gage hasn’t looked at me, but Jared does. His brows pinch, and he tilts his head.
“Are you sure? It’s going to be a trip of a lifetime.”
Being here year after year means I’ve already swum with sea turtles, but it’s been a while, and the thought of doing something I did as a child with my mother sounded like fun. It was a good memory for us, but the strange vibe coming off Gage has me second-guessing my participation
“I think I just need to rest,” I lie. With this, Gage steps up to me. Right in my face close. So close I can smell the sunscreen mixing with his manly scent, and I want to lick him. Coconutty and fresh. He’d taste like a piña colada, and I miss alcohol.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes shifting down to my belly. His hand lifts as though he wants to touch me, but then he pulls back. His head turns, glancing over his shoulder.
“I think it’s just something I ate.”
His eyes narrow. “You haven’t eaten yet. Maybe you need breakfast here before we go instead of waiting until we get to the launch site?”
We decided to eat in town near the boat tour.
“I’ll just—”
“I want you to go,” he says, almost on a pout. His forehead comes forward and lands gently on mine. “Unless you really don’t feel well.” The hesitation in his voice reassures me. Something else must be on his mind, and it’s silly of me to think it’s all about me.
Of course not. You’re pregnant with his deceased best friend’s child. Get real.
“Okay,” I whisper, adding a weak smile to my response. I’m still not confident I should tag along, but he wraps an arm around my neck, kisses my temple, and tugs me forward, making me feel strangely like one of the guys.
+ + +
We board our tour charter along with a dozen other people. We couldn’t get the private tour, so the guys decided the small group would be fine. Within seconds, they each order a drink from the deck service, but I decline, reaching for a water Gage hands me.
“So Ivy,” Petty drags out my name, and I recognize his tone. He’ll be flirting with me in seconds; only we established a long time ago we aren’t each other’s type. “Haven’t seen you for a bit?”
I’m relieved he didn’t say since the funeral as that would be tacky and also bring the group down a little. I want today to be fun for them, and I’m secretly pleased I decided to go.
“Been busy. Some of us go to school. Gotta make an honest living,” I tease. I’m not poking fun at the fact they all dropped out of college to start their band. Surprisingly, for a child of a musician and the niece of someone equally talented, I can’t carry a tune to save my life. It’s one reason I selected music therapy as a major. Music is in me, but once it comes out, no one wants to hear it.
“You don’t think we’re honest?” He winks, suggesting he’s told a lie or two in his lifetime.
My eyes drift to Gage, and I wonder what he’s embellished in his life. He’s lost in his head, sipping his drink but looking off in the distance. Aviators cover his eyes again, and I wish I could read his thoughts.
“All musicians are liars.” I laugh until Gage’s head whips in my direction.
“Why’s that?” Gage asks.
“You sing pretty songs, and we mortals fall for all the romance in them.” I’m teasing him, but his jaw clenches.
“You don’t think we mean what we say about love or violence or heartbreak or survival?” He’s just narrowed down most of their first album, and I’m curious what the second one will bring. He’s also snarky in his question.
“I’m teasing,” I whisper, not wishing to argue with him and get into a discussion about creative genius. I’ve no doubt of Gage’s ability or Collision’s as a whole. They were great with Cash, so like most of their fans, I wonder what will happen next for them.
“Anyway,” Petty interrupts, dragging out the word. “Seriously, where have you been? I mean, I saw you here and there last summer, but what gives?”
“I don’t live in Los Angeles.”
“You don’t?” Petty says, surprised.
“No. I go to school in Seattle.”
My forehead furrows, and I question Petty with a glare, not like I expect any of them to know details about me. Does he not know I hooked up with Cash? Was he so involved in his own sexcapades he didn’t notice us leave a party or two together last summer? Or did Cash never mention me to the band? My chest pinches.
“I’ve been around, though. After the time I saw you when I was looking for Gage—”
“What?” Gage snaps, startling me and making Petty flinch.
“Chill,” Petty slurs, the word bumpy like the waves under us.
“You chill,” Gage directs at Petty, and then turns to me. “What’s this about looking for me?”
“I was looking for you after a concert at Howl at the Moon. It was last June.” My mother had been dead for a year, and Tommy wanted to distract me with their performance. Petty was the one to tell me where to find Gage. I was headed backstage when Cash intercepted me.
“Why?” Gage’s voice is rough, and he swallows back the sting in it. I don’t wish to explain myself in front of the other two, so I improvise.
“I had something I wanted to give you, relating to our first meeting.” I level my stare at Gage. Jared snorts into his cup, taking a sip of the pink rum concoction.
“First meeting,” he mutters, and my head shoots toward him. He smiles into his drink while his eyes meet mine over the plastic rim. Oh, he knows something even if Petty doesn’t.
“Anyway,” I drag out like Petty did. “Petty was the one who told me you were backstage, but I ran into Cash on my way to yo
u.” The words ring funny in my head. Not funny, ha-ha, but almost bittersweet. Gage glares at me. I don’t need to see his eyes behind the lenses to know those dark orbs drill into me. I just don’t know why.
“Fucker,” he mutters, bringing his plastic cup to his lips and downing the rest of his pink drink. A waitress nears us, and Gage orders an entire bottle of rum.
“We don’t sell it by the bottle, but I can bring you a shot.”
“Make it a double,” he barks.
What the hell is wrong with him?
I decide to ignore him and his foul mood. Turning to Petty, I explain how school keeps me busy and how I’ve thrown myself into my studies, which is true. I just don’t mention how exhausted I am, and with a baby coming, I haven’t been open to partying. Petty begins telling me how his parents wanted him to be a farmer.
“I got off that farm so fast, the dust hadn’t settled behind me when I hit the highway.”
I envision the scene, and giggle until I see Petty’s gaze wander off to the ocean. He sips at his drink, swallowing back something more than what he’s sharing. We’re a sad little party, so I’m thankful when we reach the outer edges of the bay where we’ll swim. I wear a bikini again with a sun shirt over me. It does nothing to disguise my belly, but I’m hopeful the guys are too excited about the sea turtles to notice.
Gage and Petty enter the water and swim ahead of us. They each have a GoPro camera with a wrist strap. Rules require any devices be secured to a person so as not to be dropped and lost in the ocean. Jared stays behind and assists me in the water. I’m not a great swimmer although I can hold my own. It’s been a while, though, since I’ve been in deeper water than a shallow beach and panic sets in.
Jared holds my hand, guiding me to sit on the launching deck and then drops himself into the water. He waits for me as I climb down the metal ladder provided. As we tread near one another for a moment, adjusting to the water, Jared smiles weakly at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” I answer, already knowing the question he’ll ask. Jared isn’t stupid. He’s studious. He could have been a lawyer or a professor, and if I remember correctly, there was drama surrounding his decision. He’s always reading and wanting to discuss issues.
He tips his head, water sloshing up over his shoulders. “Are you pregnant?”
“Yes,” I repeat. My arms swish back and forth under the water. He bites the corner of his lip.
“I hate to ask…” He hesitates.
“It’s not Gage’s.” I don’t know why I offer that first, as if it could be his, as if we’ve been together, which we haven’t, for years.
“Oh, I know,” Jared says, nodding. “I meant Cash.”
My mouth should pop open in surprise as I had the impression Cash didn’t mention me. Instead, I roll my lips.
“He didn’t say much, and only Gage and I knew. He was into you as much as he could be into anyone other than himself.”
Cash was self-centered, but I didn’t consider it much. Such was the business, and most creative beings, but I quickly learned his self-absorption was deeper than I could see.
“I appreciate the thought although I’m not convinced it’s true. We had a fling. Stupid and senseless on my part, and then…” He died. I don’t say the words. Depression was his killer. “I’m not going to pretend I knew him better than you guys because I didn’t. We weren’t like that. Emotional, feelings, sharing. We had sex at a few parties.” I’m painting a horrible picture of myself, but I want to be clear that I’m not pining over a dead man I didn’t know or romanticizing him into someone he wasn’t to me. “I don’t like to say it didn’t mean anything, but it didn’t mean anything.” I wasn’t in the right headspace any more than Cash was, and when he intercepted me on my way to Gage, I fell under his charm. His laughter lifted my spirit and lightened the load I bore. He sweet-talked, and teased, and the next thing I knew, I was in a dark alley against a brick wall, doing almost the same thing I’d done with Gage.
Almost, I say because he wasn’t bare, and it wasn’t raw need, but more like filling a black hole in my heart. Gage was fireworks. Cash was just fire. I burned hot for Cash, but I didn’t yearn for him like I’m feeling lately for Gage.
As if he knows I’m thinking of him, Gage pops up next to me, all sexy wet with his hair slicked back and droplets dripping from his long lashes.
“Hey,” he croaks, turning his attention from Jared to me. “You two coming?”
“Right behind you,” I say, and Gage smiles for the first time all day. He dips back under the water, and I follow near the surface.
The view is breathtaking, both of the ocean life and the man swimming down below. His hair, along with Petty’s, flows loose and wild in the waves, and the two remind me of mermen. I can imagine women throwing themselves overboard if they saw these two. Along with Gage’s voice, any woman would fall for the siren call. Petty waves, and just as I smile, Gage aims his camera at me. I try not to chuckle with the snorkel, or I’ll choke. I wave back at them.
Thoughts of my mother, and being a kid, drift in and out as we swim for a while, taking in the sights, pointing at one another to notice something, and that’s when I see it. A nurse shark drifts near the ocean floor. Panic sets in again, and I wonder if this has something to do with motherhood. I’ve never been frightened of anything, but I’m slowing developing fears I’ve never had. And the thought of a shark attacking me, attacking my baby, has me pressing up for the surface with growing anxiety.
Isn’t this position how Jaws came for the girl?
My heart races as I break the surface, freaking out about my feet dangling under the water. When something pops up behind me, I scream into the snorkel as I turn to face it.
“Gage,” I yell in his face after removing the mouthpiece. He laughs as he swipes the water from his chin. He pops the snorkel from his mouth.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Taking a deep breath, I exhale, wanting to reach for him. Irrationally wanting to wrap myself around him and beg him to keep me safe, but I can take care of myself, I lie.
“Did you see it?” I gasp.
His lower lip juts forward. “See what?”
“The shark.” My voice is two octaves too high.
“Really?” He peers downward, putting his mask-covered face in the water. He pops his head back up. “I’ve got to get a picture.” He pauses and then tips his head. His eyes are distorted behind the mask, and he lifts it up to his forehead. He swims closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me against him. “Are you frightened?”
“I’m…I’m freaked out,” I admit. I chuckle, but there’s no comfort in my laughter.
“I’ll never let anything hurt you. Ever. Do you understand?”
I nod slowly, unable to look at him, distracted by the feel of his naked chest against my swollen breasts hardly contained in my bathing suit. The swell of my belly against his lower abs is a reminder of all the reasons we can’t be together, but as my leg accidentally brushes his hip and then wraps around it, I forget myself for a second. His hand smooths up my spine.
“Hey, look at me,” he softly commands, and I do. “Nothing. Ever. I promise.”
I wish I could believe him. I wish I could take those words and wrap them around myself and my baby, tucking us both into a cocoon, tucking us both into the security of him. But it’s a silly thought, so I give a weak smile back and then press off his shoulders. His eyes narrow, and the edginess of his jaw clenches again.
“One picture. I’ll be right back.” He secures his mouthpiece, tugs down the mask, and sinks below the surface. As soon as he’s gone, I turn for the boat, swimming as fast as I can.
It’s not that I don’t trust Gage.
I don’t trust myself.
I can’t fall for him. Falling for him would be bad. And wrong. And perfect. But bad.
I stroke harder, faster, feeling angry with myself at the immediate loss of energy until I hea
r splashing behind me. My thoughts return to Jaws, and sharks, and something is coming for me from deep in the water. I’ve almost reached the ladder when something grabs my ankles, and I scream into the mouthpiece again. This causes me to choke on my own air. A full panic attack fills my chest, and I continue to kick out at what’s behind me. I flip in the water and narrowly miss a wet, blond head of hair with my heel.
“Chill.” Petty laughs, sputtering into the mouthpiece. I’m still choking as I try to explain myself. Petty pushes me forward, and I wrap an arm around a rung of the metal ladder. He pats me on the back, thumping me hard between my shoulder blades.
“I thought you were a goddamn shark,” I sputter, gasping for air. Petty laughs.
“I’d definitely eat you any day.” He’s teasing. I’m not shocked or offended or ready to press charges against him, but within a heartbeat, he’s falling off the side of the ladder he clung to.
“You’ll never get near her.” Gage’s voice echoes off the bottom of the boat, menacing and full of meaning. Why is he acting all Neanderthal?
“He didn’t mean anything by it,” I say, my voice still rough from salt water and coughing.
“He’s going to apologize.”
Petty comes up from the water, shaking his head so the shaggy curls flip to the side. “You fucking cut me,” he barks at Gage.
Well, yes, he was hurtful in how he acted…
“Look,” Petty comments, lifting his leg, and sure enough, a huge gash from his leg hitting the ladder under the water bleeds into the ocean. And then the thought of sharks returns.
“Ivy?” Gage looks at me, cupping my face. “You’ve gone white.”
I shake my head slowly. “Shark,” I whisper as I see Jared swimming toward us and a small dorsal fin off to the side.
“Jared,” Petty yells as Gage pushes me upward, calling out, “Up. Now.”
I scramble to the decking and then move out of the way for Gage and Petty to follow. I can’t take my eyes off the shark near Jared. My heart races again, and I clutch my hands to my chest. A towel wraps around me as well as two strong arms.