“Hello?” I answered without looking at the display, rubbing my fingers into my eyes to remove the sleep.
“Natalie?” It was Rhys.
“Rhys? Why are you calling me so early? Are you okay?” I was now wide awake.
“Yes. Isn’t it after six in New York? How come you sound like that?” Oh.
“Um, I’m not in New York. You woke me up.” I wasn’t sure how to approach telling him we moved to the West Coast without letting him know.
“Where are you? Is Christopher okay?” His voice pitched up two octaves and I could hear moving around.
“Yes, yes. He’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I should have called you sooner. We moved to LA last week.”
Silence met my revelation and I held my breath, waiting for him to respond.
“You moved to LA?” Confusion poured through the phone line.
“Uh, yeah. It’s a lot to get into at three a.m. but I didn’t really have anything left for me in New York. Not anymore.” I ran a hand over my face as I spoke, now fully awake and slightly panicked at Rhys’s response to us moving.
“Oh, well, were you ever going to let me know? I was calling to see if I could come out for a visit with Christopher next week, but I guess I’ll save the plane fare. It’s a good thing I called first.” Rhys sounded angry and I didn’t blame him.
“I’m so sorry I never called to let you know. We have been getting settled all week. It’s been a big adjustment, for both of us.” I paused, wanting to add more but I wasn’t sure how he would react. But, I came this far, moved across the country for my son to have a relationship with his father. I had to be braver than this. “If you’re able to, you can come over later today to see Christopher. We’ll be home.”
I heard a loud sigh on the other end and almost expected him to say no.
“Okay. I’m free until tonight. We actually have a show in LA so I’ll be in the area. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
“See you then,” I said, my stomach suddenly filling with butterflies at seeing Rhys after three months. I was disappointed in my own reaction. None of this was about me.
“See ya, Nat.”
We hung up. I stood in the kitchen, my phone in my hand, for a long time, trying to decipher the way I was feeling. Excitement at seeing Rhys again warred with my need to keep a physical distance from him. Shaking my head at the dichotomy of my feelings, I set the phone back down and headed back to my room silently.
I lay in bed until the sun began to peek through the blinds. My mind was racing with all the emotions and newness of what living in LA would bring. I even briefly wondered why I was fighting this thing with Rhys so vehemently just as I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.
25
Rhys
I hated lying to my bandmates about why I was heading up to LA early for the show. It wasn’t like me and it left a sour feeling in my stomach. But I couldn’t tell them about Natalie and Christopher being in LA yet. There would be too many questions after I told them how she rejected me almost four months ago. Nathan told me to forget about her and worry about my son, and the other two agreed.
I was trying, immersing myself in my music and our band, more than I had before. But her soulful hazel eyes would pop into my head late at night while I was trying to sleep. The feel of her body beneath mine and the softness of her lips pushing through my memory at the worst time. I hadn’t been with another woman since Natalie, and wasn’t sure I would be able to stop thinking about her for a long time.
And now she was here, just a couple hours from my hometown, when she turned down my offer for her and Christopher to live with me. Somehow, this felt like an even bigger rejection. She didn’t tell me they moved, didn’t call to let me know, and didn’t seem like she wanted me to know. I was curious how she would explain her reasons behind it. I knew it wasn’t because she wanted to be with me after all these months.
The GPS led me to a tree-lined street—upper middle class, with small and medium-sized older homes that had perfectly landscaped yards and children playing outside. It felt surprisingly like coming home but I pushed down the feeling. This was Natalie and Christopher’s home. I lived in San Diego.
I threw the car in park, turned it off, and hopped out in front of Natalie’s white brick bungalow-style house. Somehow, this home suited her more than the pretentious Upper East Side apartment had. At least, what I knew of her. A neighbor next door, who was outside trimming his hedges, gave me a slight wave as I made my way up the brick path. This seemed like a nice place for Christopher to grow up and I was happier about it than I thought I would be. He would be close enough to drive up and see him whenever I wanted, but also because thinking about him growing up in Manhattan, going to private school and having nannies, didn’t sit well with me.
I cleared my throat and smoothed the front of my t-shirt nervously before knocking on the door. It made no sense why I was nervous—nothing was going to happen, nothing was going to change. I was here to see Christopher, not Natalie. But I would have been lying if I said I didn’t want to see her. The truth was, I missed her, more than I wanted to admit to myself.
The door flew open, breaking my train of thought, and I wiped a hand over my face to make sure she couldn’t tell what I was thinking before. I hesitated before saying anything and we stood there for a minute, both of us unable to speak. Natalie wore an oversized white t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and I tried unsuccessfully to keep my eyes from following the line of her clavicle where it disappeared under the hem of her shirt before my gaze trailed down. Her sable-colored hair was pulled back in a messy bun on top of her head, a few wavy strands escaping to frame her face. My eyes flicked to her lips before meeting her hazel eyes.
“Hey!” She said the word too loudly and followed it with a slight frown. I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
“Hey, Nat,” I responded, as she stepped back and waved her arm to invite me in.
She turned away from me for a moment, smoothing a hand over her hair and adjusting her shirt. I almost told her she looked sexy the way she was but knew it wasn’t the appropriate thing to say right then. Or think. Fuck. I was doing a terrible job of ignoring this thing between us that I was supposed to pretend didn’t exist.
When she turned back around, a slight smile graced her full bow-shaped lips and I almost groaned with my body’s reaction to her.
“Christopher is actually still napping and I hated to wake him.” She pointed towards the family room, which was right inside of the front door, and I walked over to where the same overstuffed couch from her New York apartment sat facing a fireplace and coffee table.
The couch, like Natalie, fit this home better than it had the apartment. I plopped down onto the soft cushions. She sat down next to me and I didn’t miss how she curled herself up as far away from where I sat as she could. At least one of us was demonstrating some restraint, or maybe she didn’t want me to get the wrong idea. That last thought made me frown, but I ignored it, telling myself again I was here for Christopher. Only Christopher.
“I’m sorry you drove all the way up for him to be sleeping.” Natalie gestured wildly with her hands before folding them together in her lap and letting out an anxious giggle.
“It’s all right. I had to be up here anyway for a show, remember?” She nodded as I spoke, and I saw her wringing her hands in her lap. I wondered if maybe she was even more nervous than I was. The last few times we were together weren’t this awkward and I was curious why it was so hard this time.
I had to break the tension. If we were going to have an amicable relationship for Christopher’s sake, we couldn’t let awkwardness get in the way or it would be a long eighteen years.
“Relax, Nat. I won’t bite,” I said with a smirk.
Natalie laughed, throwing her head back and guffawing loudly, before she realized what she did and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh no! I’m going to wake up Christopher.” She picked up her phone from the coffee table and
glanced at the screen before flipping it towards me.
On the screen was our baby boy, sleeping peacefully on his back in a bassinet, his arms thrown over his head and his lips moving as if he were sucking an invisible pacifier. He looked angelic, and my chest squeezed with finally being able to see him after several weeks.
“He’s still asleep, thankfully.” Natalie sighed, feigning wiping sweat from her brow and sat back against the couch.
I gave a soft laugh. “How has he been?” I worried every day about Christopher’s health.
“Great, really great. We saw the new pediatrician a few days ago and she said he’s really developing by leaps and bounds for being born so early. His breathing has been excellent and he’s even hitting some milestones that he should hit based on his gestational age.” Her eyes lit up as she talked about our son.
“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to see him.” I wanted to say so much more, but emotion clogged my throat. A few months ago, we didn’t even think he would leave the hospital. To make it to this point, where he didn’t need any medical intervention, was a miracle.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long…” Her voice trailed off and she turned away from me.
I couldn’t see her face to gauge her mood, but something suddenly shifted between us, again. I no longer felt awkward, even though the conversation lulled, and we sat there in silence. There was an urge to comfort her, to tell her it wasn’t her fault I hadn’t been to see Christopher. Mostly, it was true. I hadn’t been able to fly out to New York, but she also didn’t tell me they moved to LA. We were both terrible at communicating. Something had to give.
“We need to be better at this,” I voiced my thoughts aloud.
Natalie whipped her head back towards me. “At what?” The way she asked it let me know she thought I meant something else.
“Communicating. For Christopher, I mean. We have to at least be friends. Can you do that?” Right now, it didn’t matter that she once again rejected me when I was putting myself out there with her, or that I still couldn’t squelch the feelings that seemed to grow every time I was around her. All that mattered was my son and the need to not only see him grow up, but to be involved in his life.
“Oh, right. Yes. You’re right.” She paused, her hand on her face. It looked like she had more to say, like words were bubbling in her chest to escape, but she was holding them back. She opened her mouth twice and closed it again before she finally began to speak again. “Truthfully, I moved out here so that Christopher could be closer to you. I mean, I wanted to get away from New York, my past, and my dad, but I would be lying if I said I chose LA on a whim. Bi-coastal parenting wouldn’t work, and since you need to be out here, I came to you. I want Christopher to have a relationship with you, even if…” She shook her head and cut the sentence short.
Even if we couldn’t be together, I finished in my head.
This was her way of telling me nothing more was between us. We would be friends and co-parent Christopher, but that would be it. What she was asking would have to be enough because being away from the both of them for the last few months was hell, and I didn’t want to scare her all the way back across the country. But it was my turn to be honest, and I had been lying to myself for too long where Natalie was concerned. I meant was I said a couple of months ago in Christopher’s hospital room—I wanted them, both of them, as a family, and eventually Natalie would see that being friends just wasn’t enough.
26
Natalie
“I can’t believe how big he’s gotten since I last saw him,” Rhys said with a wide grin on his face as he held Christopher on his lap.
He wasn’t looking at me so I had a moment to stare. The way his eyes lit up and the same grin spread across his face when I brought Christopher out from his nap made my heart stop for a moment, my breath catching in my chest. I had to look away or he would have known I wasn’t as immune to him as I pretended to be. As I had to pretend to be.
“It’s amazing how fast he’s growing. Even the pediatrician was impressed.”
Rhys looked away from the baby for a moment, our eyes meeting. My breath hitched again and I froze. Why was this happening? I thought I was able to shut down all my feelings for Rhys back in New York, in that cold hospital room when I turned him down. But here we were, our eyes locked and my heart racing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
We can only be friends, I repeated over and over in my head.
I made my choices, I ruined it all up to now, and I wasn’t going down that road again. Just friends. It would have to work because Rhys was too kind, too good, for me to destroy him the way I had everyone else.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked him as I stood up and walked around the couch towards the kitchen.
I had to get out of this room. The walls were closing in on me and I felt panic rising in my chest.
Rhys blinked and I could tell he didn’t comprehend my question right away.
“Uh, sure.” He turned quickly back to Christopher.
I ignored the pang in my chest. “Is iced tea okay?” I called from the kitchen.
Rhys nodded without looking up. Sighing, I poured us both a glass before returning to the living room. I set both glasses on the coffee table before settling back onto the couch in the corner I had been squeezed into since he arrived. Christopher was cooing in Rhys’s arms and I smiled at the sounds of a happy, healthy baby. My eyes shifted up to Rhys again, like a magnet was pulling them towards his face. His beard was shorter now, more like thick sandy stubble than an actual beard. I could make out the shape of his jaw underneath the light strands. My hands itched to trace the line of stubble and I clasped them tightly in my lap.
The same sandy-colored strands hung just over his eyebrow, not quite obstructing my view of his beautiful blue eyes. Those eyes could pull me into their depths like the ocean they were colored for. I had to be careful not to be caught in a rip current. Gripping my hands tighter, I allowed my eyes to travel lower, over the curve of his bicep straining against the form-fitting white t-shirt he wore and down his thighs, to the tips of his black boots.
When I looked back up his eyes were on me again. I felt a hot flush creep up my neck and flame over my cheeks. He caught me inspecting him.
“See something you like?” he asked in a teasing tone.
My cheeks were on fire. I couldn’t respond but being silent only solidified what I had been doing.
“New boots?” I asked, for lack of something else to say.
Rhys laughed, startling a cry from Christopher as the sound burst from his chest loudly. He gripped the baby to his chest, patting his back to calm him, his eyes never leaving mine.
“It’s the boots, huh?” The sexy smirk that made my stomach somersault sat firmly on his face as his eyes bored into mine.
“Uh, yeah. The boots.” I waved my hand at him dismissively.
“Whatever you say, Nat.” Rhys chuckled again, still patting Christopher who had stopped fussing.
“They’re nice boots.” I shrugged, digging myself into an even deeper hole.
Way to go, Natalie. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Oh, yeah. And you’re right. They are new.” He was messing with me now.
“Well, maybe next time, take them off in my house.” The bitchy comment left my lips before I could control myself. The old Natalie, the one who used meanness to recover from embarrassment, was trying to surface.
“Well, excuse me.” Rhys raised one hand in surrender. “But you’re right, I should have taken them off. Christopher will be crawling soon and I don’t want to track any germs in.”
And just like that, I felt less foolish and defensive. How did he do it? Rhys didn’t argue with or taunt me but accepted and diffused my bitchy attitude. No one had ever done that before.
“That’s what I meant.” I hadn’t but it was easier to say than an apology at this point.
Rhys nodded. “I have about an hour before I have to head out to
sound check. It’s a really nice day, should we take Christopher for a walk?” He stood up and gestured towards the door.
Since the sexual tension was closing in on me in the house, I thought that was a wonderful idea.
“Okay. Let me change him first.”
I took Christopher from his arms and went back into his bedroom. For the first time all morning, I was finally able to breathe, and I gulped air like a drowning woman. The whole business of changing the baby took less than two minutes, but I stood in the room, my back against the closed door, for an extra few minutes to get my bearings back. By the time I went back out to the living room, I felt a little more centered.
“Ready?” Rhys asked.
I nodded. “The stroller is the trunk of my car.” I angled my head towards the door.
Rhys reached for the baby and I handed him over, wondering at actually having an extra set of hands when I needed them. I gathered my keys from the dish on a table in the foyer before pushing my feet into a pair of slip on sneakers. Rhys and I made our way outside. I stopped at my car, which was brand new and unusual for this New Yorker, and unloaded the stroller from the trunk. Rhys placed Christopher in gently, strapping him in though the straps were still too big for him even all the way tightened. We started to walk down the tree-lined sidewalk without talking. Rhys pushed the stroller and for the first time in a while, I felt like my hands were missing something. It was an odd feeling.
“What’s that face about?” Rhys asked me, startling me from my thoughts.
“I was just thinking about how the last few months, my hands have been constantly full, but today, with you here, they feel empty. It’s an odd feeling.”
“A bad feeling?” he asked, his eyes trained on mine.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice because his gaze was unnerving me. “No, not really. Just different, I guess. It’s nice to have help with Christopher.”
One Song: book two in the one series Page 17