Inhaling deeply, I push back the dread that makes its way up my throat. I don’t need to answer her. I’d rather show her I’m okay. I look over to her, she is on the left side of the bed, and I think about how much I love that we don’t care what side we fall asleep on as long as we’re together. Running my still slightly trembling hand down her back, I roll her on top of me.
A small smile quirks at the corners of her lips as she says, “Are you sure you even had a bad dream? Or did you just want to have sex in the middle of the night?” She leans her head down to my mouth and runs her nose over my stubbled jawline. I inhale her citrus scent; feeling thankful she is here with me.
I give her a small laugh and wish that were true as I brush strands of her hair out her face. “I didn’t think I had to fake a bad dream to have sex with you. But now that you mention it, I certainly like the idea. And I figure since we’re both up, why not?”
Connecting my lips with hers, I roll her to my side. Sucking on her neck, I roll my tongue along her skin as my hand glides up the inside of her thigh. Slipping my fingers inside her, a small moan escapes her lips as her body bows up, preparing for what I hope to be able to give her forever.
I had to approach the subject cautiously. I knew she had to go back there to see the place itself wasn’t a symbol of death. Yes, death had claimed her father too soon, but The Greek was the place where he enjoyed life to the fullest. It was where they both loved to be together, connected by their passion for music, concerts, and all that came with it.
I feel that before I can ask her to move forward with me in life, she has to accept her past. The fact that she refuses to go back there tells me she hasn’t. My father used to say that scars are the roadmaps to one’s soul, but her soul is beautiful and I don’t need a roadmap to find it; I am able to reach it every day that we’re together. What bothers me is what he said about scars that can’t be seen—the emotional ones. We all have them but hers are deep. Hers are from having endured a lifetime of sorrow; from being cut at such a young age. I want to be the one to help her heal those wounds. This is why I want to take her back there. It’s not only so she can see my band perform, although of course I want her to be there. It’s more for her and for the benefit of our relationship as it moves forward. But, I know I can’t help her with the scars his death left on her. I can’t even talk about him with her. I know it’s wrong and I try, I really do. I just can’t. I hate him and can’t get past that. I can only hope that loving her enough and being there for her has already started the healing process for those open wounds.
I was reluctant at first when Xander told me he arranged for The Wilde Ones to perform at The Greek. Yes, it was definitely a great opportunity for the band to preview some of the songs from our new album, but I wasn’t sure if I could get Dahlia to go. Then I realized this was my opportunity to bring her back there and make it a happy place for her, once again. Also, if truth be told, I want her there with me to kick off this tour, especially since I’m not really into it. Trying but failing miserably at coming up with the right way to persuade her, I decided to call Grace and ask her to meet me for lunch. I thought about calling Serena since she and Dahlia talk almost every day, but decided Grace was the better choice since she knows Dahlia so well and they are so much alike.
Meeting his mother to ask for advice seems odd but feels right at the same time. Asking her to lunch, I had to put aside the he was her son because in Dahlia's eyes, Grace is like a mother to her, ever since she lost her own. I just had to forget about him and what I know and push away my feelings like I’ve done since I saw his picture at her house.
On my way to the restaurant, I stopped by Dahlia's house to check on it. She still owns it. She’s gotten a few offers but none close to her asking price, so she’s refused them all. I don’t want to push her, but I know her refusals aren’t based on money. I think she is just having a hard time letting go of it, so I haven’t pushed her.