CHAPTER SEVEN
My neck had seized up. Pain shot through me as I slowly straightened and blinked the sleep from my eyes. I rubbed at the offending muscles, trying to get them to unlock. “Ow.”
David took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out, rubbing the back of my neck with strong fingers. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I must have slept funny.” I shuffled up in the seat, taking in our surroundings, trying not to enjoy the neck rub too much. Because of course he was crazy good with his hands. Mr Magic Fingers cajoled my muscles back into some semblance of order with seemingly little effort. I couldn’t be expected to resist. Impossible. So instead I moaned loudly and let him have his way with me.
Being barely awake was my only excuse.
The sun was only just rising. Tall, shadowy trees rushed by outside. Trying to get out of LA, we’d gotten caught in a traffic jam the likes of which this Portland girl had never seen. For all my good intentions we hadn’t really talked. We’d stopped and gotten food and gas. The rest of the time, Johnny Cash had played on the stereo and I’d practiced speeches in my head. None of the words made it out of my mouth. For some reason, I was reluctant to call a halt to our adventure and go off on my own. It had nothing to do with pulling up my big girl panties and everything to do with how comfortable I’d begun to feel with him. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful. Refreshing even, given the last day’s worth of drama. Being with him on the open road … there was something freeing about it. At around two in the morning, I’d fallen asleep.
“David, where are we?”
He gave me a sidelong look, his hand still massaging my muscles. “Well …”
A sign flew past outside. “We’re going to Monterey?”
“That’s where my place is,” he said. “Stop tensing up.”
“Monterey?”
“Yeah. What’ve you got against Monterey, hmm? Have a bad time at a music festival?”
“No,” I backpedaled, fast, not wanting to appear ungrateful. “It’s just a surprise. I didn’t realize we were, umm … Monterey. Okay.”
David sighed and pulled off the road. Dust flew and stones pinged off the Jeep. (Mal wouldn’t be pleased.) He turned to face me, resting an elbow on the top of the passenger seat, boxing me in.
“Talk to me, friend,” he said.
I opened my mouth and let it all tumble out. “I have a plan. I have some money put away. I was going to go someplace quiet for a couple of weeks until this blew over. You didn’t have to put yourself out like this. I just need to get my stuff from back at the mansion and I can be out of your hair.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “Well, we’re here now and I’d like to go check out my place for a couple of days. So why don’t you come with me? Just as friends. No big deal. It’s Friday now, the lawyers said they’d have the new papers sent to us Monday. We’ll sign them. I’ve got a show Tuesday night back in LA. If you want you can lie low at the house for a few weeks till things calm down. Sound like a plan? We spend the weekend together then go our separate ways. All sorted.”
It did sound like a solid idea. But still, I deliberated for a second. Apparently, it was a second too long.
“You worried about spending the weekend with me or something? Am I that scary?” His gaze held mine, our faces a bare hand’s breadth apart. Dark hair fell around his perfect face. For a moment I almost forgot to breathe. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Outside a motorcycle roared past then all fell quiet again.
Was he scary? The man had no idea.
“No,” I lied, throwing in some scoff for good measure.
I don’t think he believed me. “Listen, I’m sorry about acting like a creep back in LA.”
“It’s okay, really, David. This situation would do anyone’s head in.”
“Tell me something,” he said in a low voice. “You remembered about getting the tat. Anything else come back to you?”
Reliving my drunken rampage wasn’t somewhere I wanted to go. Not with him. Not with anyone. I was paying the consequences by having my life upended and splashed about on the internet. Ridiculous, given nothing in my past was even mildly sordid. Well, apart from the back seat of Tommy’s parents’ car. “Does this even matter? I mean, isn’t it a bit late to be having this conversation?”
“Guess so.” He shifted back in his seat and put a hand on the wheel. “You need to stretch your legs or anything?”
“A restroom would be great.”
“No worries.”
We pulled back out onto the road and silence ensued for several minutes. He’d turned off the stereo sometime while I slept. The quiet was awkward now and it was all my doing. Guilt sucked first thing in the morning. It probably didn’t improve later in the day, but first up, without even a drop of caffeine to fortify me, it was horrible. He’d been nice to me, trying to talk, and I’d shut him down.
“Most of that night is still a blur,” I said.
He lifted a couple of fingers off the steering wheel in a little wave. Such was the sum total of his response.
I took a deep breath, fortifying myself to go further. “I remember doing shots at midnight. After that, it’s hazy. I remember the sound of the needle at the tattoo parlor, us laughing, but that’s about it. I’ve never blacked out in my life. It’s scary.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
“How did we meet?”
He exhaled hard. “Ah, me and a group of people were leaving to go to another club. One of the girls wasn’t looking where she was going, bumped into a cocktail waitress. Apparently the waitress was new or something and she crashed her tray. Luckily, it was only a couple of empty beer bottles.”
“How did I get involved?”
He darted me a glance, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. “Some of them started giving the poor waitress shit, telling her they were going to get her fired. You just swooped in and handed them their asses.”
“I did?”
“Oh, yeah.” He licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling. “Told them they were evil, pretentious, overpriced a*sholes who should watch where they were walking. You helped the girl pick up the beer bottles and then you insulted my friends some more. It was pretty f*cking classic, actually. I can’t remember everything you said. You got pretty creative with the insults by the end.”
“Huh. And you liked me for that?”
He shut his mouth and said nothing. A whole wide world of nothing. Nothing could actually cover a lot of ground when you put that much effort into it.
“What happened next?” I asked.
“Security came over to throw you out. Not like they were gonna argue with the rich kids.”
“No. I guess not.”
“You looked panicky so I got you out of there.”
“You left your friends for me?” I watched him in amazement.
He did a one-shoulder shrug. As if it meant nil.
“What then?”
“We took off and had a drink in another bar.”
“I’m surprised you stuck with me.” Stunned was closer.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “You treated me like a normal person. We just talked about everyday stuff. You weren’t angling to get anything out of me. You didn’t act like I was a different f*cking species. When you looked at me it felt …”
“What?”
He cleared his throat. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, you do. And it does.”
He groaned.
“Please?”
“F*ck’s sake,” he muttered, shifting around in the driver’s seat all uncomfortable-like. “It felt real, okay? It felt right. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
I sat in stunned silence for a moment. “That’s a good way to explain it.”
Suddenly, he got decidedly smirky. “Plus, I’d never been propositioned quite like that.”
“Yeeeah. Okay, stop now.” I covered my face with my hands and he laughed.
“Relax,” he said. “You were very sweet.”
“Sweet?”
“Sweet is not a bad thing.”
He pulled the Jeep into a gas station, stopping in front of a pump. “Look at me.”
I lowered my fingers.
David stared back at me, beautiful face grinning. “You said that you thought I was a really nice guy. And that it would be great if we could go up to your room and have sex and just hang out for a while, if maybe that was something I’d be interested in doing.”
“Ha. I have all the moves,” I laughed. There might have been more embarrassing conversations in my life. Doubtful, though. Oh, good God, the thought of me trying out my smooth seduction routine on David. He who had groupies and glamour models throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. If there’d been enough room under the car seat, I’d have hid down there. “What did you say?”
“What do you think I said?” Without taking his gaze off me he popped the glove box and pulled out a baseball cap. “Looks like the restrooms are around the side.”
“This is so mortifying. Why couldn’t you have forgotten too?”
He just looked at me. The smirk was long gone. For a long moment he held my gaze captive, unsmiling. The air in the car seemed to drop by about fifty degrees.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt.
“Sure.”
I finally managed to unbuckle the stupid thing, heart galloping inside my chest. The conversation had gotten crazy heavy toward the end. It had caught me unawares. Knowing he’d stood up for me in Las Vegas, that he’d chosen me over his friends … it changed things. And it made me wonder what else I needed to know about that night.
“Wait.” He rifled among the collection of sunglasses, pulled out a pair of designer aviator shades and handed them to me. “You’re famous now too, remember?”
“My butt is.”
He almost smiled. He fit the baseball cap to his head and rested an arm on the steering wheel. The tattoo of my name was right there, in all its glory. It was pink around the edges and some of the letters had small scabs on them. I wasn’t the only one permanently marked by this.
“See you in a bit,” he said.
“Right.” I opened the door and slowly climbed out of the car. Tripping and landing on my ass in front of him must be avoided at all costs.
I saw to the necessities then washed my hands. The girl in the restroom mirror looked wild-eyed and then some. I splashed water on my face and did a little damage control on my hair. What a joke. This adventure I was on was undoing any and all attempts at keeping control. Me, my life, all of it seemed to be in a state of flux. That shouldn’t have felt as strangely good as it did.
When I got back he was standing by the Jeep, signing an autograph for a couple of guys, one of whom was busy doing an enthusiastic air guitar performance. David laughed and clapped him on the back and they talked for a couple of minutes more. He was kind, gracious. He stood smiling, chatting to them until he noticed me hovering nearby. “Thanks, guys. If you could keep this quiet for a couple of days I’d appreciate it, hey? We could do with a break from the fuss.”
“No worries.” One of the guys turned and grinned at me. “Congratulations. You’re way prettier in person than in your pictures.”
“Thanks.” I waved a hand at them, not quite knowing what else to do.
David winked at me and opened the passenger door for me to hop in.
The other man pulled out a cell phone and started snapping pictures. David ignored him and jogged around to the other side of the vehicle. He didn’t speak till we were back out on the road.
“It’s not far now,” he said. “We still going to Monterey?”
“Absolutely.”
“Cool.”
Hearing David talk about our first meeting had put a new spin on things. That conversation had aroused my curiosity. That he’d chosen me to some degree that night … I don’t think the possibility had occurred to me before. I’d figured we’d both let tequila do the thinking and somehow fallen into this mess together. I was wrong. There was more to the story. Much more. David’s reluctance to answer certain questions made me wonder.
I wanted answers. But I needed to tread carefully.
“Is it always like that for you?” I asked. “Being recognized? Having people approach you all the time?”
“They were fine. The crazies are a worry, but you handle it. It’s part of my job. People like the music, so …”
A bad feeling crept through me. “You did tell me who you were that night, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, of course I did.” He gave me a snarky look, his brows bunched up.
My bad feeling crept away, only to be replaced by shame. “Sorry.”
“Ev, I wanted you to know what the f*ck you were getting into. You said you really liked me, but you weren’t that keen on my band.” He fiddled with the stereo, another half smile on his face. Soon some rock song I didn’t know played quietly over the speakers. “You felt pretty bad about it, actually. You kept apologizing over and over. Insisted on buying me a burger and shake to make up for it.”
“I just prefer country.”
“Believe me, I know. And stop apologizing. You’re allowed to like whatever the hell you want.”
“Was it a good burger and shake?”
He gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “It was fine.”
“I wish I remembered.”
He snorted. “There’s a first.”
I don’t know what exactly came over me. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make him smile. With a knee beneath me I pulled out a length of seatbelt, raised myself up and kissed him quick on the cheek. A surprise attack. His skin was warm and smooth against my lips. The man smelled so much better than he had any right to.
“What was that for?” he asked, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eyes.
“For getting me out of Portland and then LA. For talking to me about that night.” I shrugged, trying to play it off. “For lots of things.”
A little line appeared above the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. “Right. No problem.”
His mouth stayed shut and his hand went to his cheek, touching where I’d been. The frown-faced side-on looks continued for quite some time. Each one made me wonder a bit more if David Ferris was just as scared of me as I was of him. This reaction was even better than a smile.
*
The log and stone house rose out of the trees, perched on the edge of a cliff. The place was awe-inspiring on a whole different level to the mansion back in LA. Below, the ocean went about its business of being spectacular.
David climbed out of the car and walked up to the house, fiddling with a set of keys from his pocket. Next, he opened the front door, then stopped to punch numbers into a security system.
“You coming?” he yelled.
I lingered beside the car, looking up at the magnificent house. Him and me alone. Inside there. Hmm. Waves crashed on the rocks nearby. I swore I could hear the swell of an orchestral accompaniment not too far off in the distance. The place was decidedly atmospheric. And that atmosphere was pure romance.
“What’s the problem?” David came back down the stone path toward me.
“Nothing … I was just—”
“Good.” He didn’t stop. I didn’t know what was going on until I found myself hanging upside down over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“Shit. David!”
“Relax.”
“You’re going to drop me!”
“I’m not going to drop you. Stop squirming,” he said, his arm pressing against the back of my legs. “Show some trust.”
“What are you doing?” I battered my hands against the ass of his jeans.
“It’s traditional to carry the bride across the threshold.”
“Not like this.”
He patted my butt cheek, the one with his name on it. “Why would we wanna start being conventional now, huh?”
“I thought we were just being friends.”
“This is friendly. You should probably stop feeling my ass, though, or I’m gonna get the wrong idea about us. Especially after that kiss in the car.”
“I’m not feeling your ass,” I grumbled and stopped using his butt cheeks for a handhold. Like it was my fault the position left me no alternative but to hold onto his firm butt.
“Please, you’re all over me. It’s disgusting.”
I laughed despite myself. “You put me over your shoulder, you idiot. Of course I’m all over you.”
Up the steps we went, then onto the wide wooden patio and into the house. Hardwood floors in a rich brown and moving boxes, lots and lots of moving boxes. I couldn’t see much else.
“This could be a problem,” he said.
“What could be?” I asked, still upside down, my hair obscuring my view.
“Hang on.” Carefully, he righted me, setting my feet on the floor. All the blood rushed from my head and I staggered. He grabbed my elbows, holding me upright.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. What’s the problem?”
“I thought there’d be more furniture,” he said.
“You’ve never been here before?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Apart from boxes there were more boxes. They were everywhere. We stood in a large central room with a huge stone fireplace set in the far wall. You could roast a whole cow in the thing if you were so inclined. Stairs led to a second floor above and another level below this one. A dining room and open plan kitchen came next. The place was either floor to ceiling glass, neat lines of logs, or gray stonework. The perfect mix of old and new design techniques. It was stunning. But then all the places he lived in seemed to be.
I wondered what he’d make of my and Lauren’s tiny, bedraggled apartment. A silly thought. As if he’d ever see it.
“At least they got a fridge.” He pulled one of the large stainless steel doors open. Every inch of space inside had been packed with food and beverages. “Excellent.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“Ah, the people that look after the place for me. Friends of mine. They used to look after it for the previous owner, too. I rang them, asked them to sort some stuff out for us.” He pulled out a Corona and popped the lid. “Cheers.”
I smiled, bemused. “For breakfast?”
“I’ve been awake for two days. I want a beer then I want a bed. Man, I hope they thought to get a bed.” Beer in hand, he ambled back through the lounge and up the stairs. I followed, curious.
He pushed open one bedroom door after another. There were four all up and each had its own bathroom because cool, rich people clearly couldn’t share. At the final door at the end of the hall he stopped and sagged with relief. “Thank f*ck for that.”
A kingdom of a bed made up with clean, white sheets waited within. And a couple more boxes.
“What’s with all the boxes?” I asked. “Did they only get one bed?”
“Sometimes I buy stuff on my travels. Sometimes people give me stuff. I’ve just been sending it all here for the last few years. Take a look if you want. And yes, there’s only one bed.” He took another swig of beer. “You think I’m made of money?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Says the guy who got Cartier to open so I could pick out a ring.”
“You remember that?” He smiled around the bottle of beer.
“No, I just assumed given what time of night it must have been.” I wandered over to the wall of windows. Such an amazing view.
“You tried to pick some shitty little thing. I couldn’t believe it.” He stared at me, but his gaze was distant.
“I threw the ring at the lawyers.”
He flinched and studied his shoes. “Yeah, I know.”
“I’m sorry. They just made me so mad.”
“Lawyers do that.” He took another swig of the beer. “Mal said you took a swing at him.”
“I missed.”
“Probably for the best. He’s an idiot but he means well.”
“Yeah, he was really kind to me.” Crossing my arms I checked out the rest of his big bedroom, wandering into the bathroom. The Jacuzzi would have made Mal’s curl up in shame. The place was sumptuous. Yet again the feeling of not belonging, of not fitting in with the décor, hit me hard.
“That’s some heavy frown, friend,” he said.
I attempted a smile. “I’m just still trying to figure things out. I mean, is that why you took the plunge in Vegas? Because you’re unhappy? And apart from Mal you’re surrounded by jerks?”
“F*ck.” His let his head fall back. “Do we have to keep talking about that night?”
“I’m just trying to understand.”
“No,” he said. “It wasn’t that, okay?”
“Then what?”
“We were in Vegas, Ev. Shit happens.”
I shut my mouth.
“I don’t mean …” He wiped a hand across his face. “F*ck. Look, don’t think it was just all drinking and partying and that’s the only reason anything happened. Why we happened. I wouldn’t want you to think that.”
I flailed. It seemed the only proper response. “But that’s what I do think. That’s exactly what I think. That’s the only way this fits together in my head. When a girl like me wakes up married to a guy like you, what else can she possibly think? God, David, look at you. You’re beautiful, rich, and successful. Your brother was right, this makes no sense.”
He turned on me, face tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t run yourself down like that.”
I just sighed.
“I’m serious. Don’t you ever give what that a*shole said another thought, understood? You are not nothing.”
“Then give me something. Tell me what it was like between us that night.”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. “Nah. I don’t want to dredge it all up, you know, water under the bridge or whatever. I just don’t want you thinking that the whole night was some alcohol-fueled frenzy or something, that’s all. Honestly, you didn’t even seem that drunk most of it.”
“David, you’re hedging. Come on. It’s not fair that you remember and I don’t.”
“No,” he said, his voice hard, cold, in a way I hadn’t heard it. He loomed over me, jaw set. “It’s not fair that I remember and you don’t, Evelyn.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m going out.” True to his word, he stormed out the door. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallway and back down the stairs. I stood staring after him.
*
I gave him a while to cool off then followed him out onto the beach. The morning light was blinding, clear blue skies all the way. It was beautiful. Salty sea air cleared my head a little. David’s words raised more questions than they answered. Puzzling that night out consumed my thoughts. I’d reached two conclusions. Both worried me. The first was that the night in Vegas was special to him. My prying or trivializing the experience upset him. The second was, I suspected, he hadn’t been all that drunk. It sounded like he knew exactly what he was doing. In which case, how the hell must he have felt the next morning? I’d rejected him and our marriage out of hand. He must have been heart-sore, humiliated.
There’d been good reasons for my behavior. I'd still, however, been incredibly thoughtless. I didn’t know David then. But I was beginning to now. And the more we talked, the more I liked him.
David sat on the rocks with a beer in hand, staring out to sea. A cool ocean wind tossed his long hair about. The fabric of his T-shirt was drawn tight across his broad back. He had his knees drawn up with an arm wrapped around them. It made him seem younger than he was, more vulnerable.
“Hi,” I said, squatting beside him.
“Hey.” Eyes squinted against the sun, he looked up at me, face guarded.
“I’m sorry for pushing.”
He nodded, stared back out at the water. “S’okay.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Are we still friends?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Sure.”
I sat down next to him, trying to figure out what to say next, what would set things right between us. Nothing I could think of saying was going to make up for Vegas. I needed more time with him. The ticking clock of the annulment papers grew louder by the minute. It unnerved me, thinking our time would be cut short. That it would soon all be over and I wouldn’t see or talk to him again. That I wouldn’t get to figure out the puzzle that was us. My skin grew goose pimples from more than the wind.
“Shit. You’re cold,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer against him.
And I got closer, happily. “Thanks.”
He put down the beer bottle, wrapping both arms around me. “Should probably get you inside.”
“In a bit.” My thumbs rubbed over my fingers, fidgeting. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s a lovely place.”
“Mm.”
“David, really, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey.” He put a finger beneath my chin, raising it. The anger and hurt was gone, replaced by kindness. He gave me one of his little shrugs. “Let’s just let it go.”
The idea actually sent me into a panic. I didn’t want to let go of him. The knowledge was startling. I stared up at him, letting it sink in. “I don’t want to.”
He blinked. “Alright. You want to make it up to me?”
I doubted we were talking about the same thing, but I nodded anyway.
“I’ve got an idea.”
“Shoot.”
“Different things can jog your memory, right?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“So if I kiss you, you might remember what we were like together.”
I stopped breathing. “You want to kiss me?”
“You don’t want me to kiss you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m okay with you kissing me.”
He bit back a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
“And this kiss is for the purposes of scientific research?”
“Yep. You want to know what happened that night and I don’t really want to talk about it. So, I figure, easier all round if you can maybe remember some of it yourself.”
“That makes sense.”
“Excellent.”
“How far did we go that night?”
His gaze dropped to the neck of my tank top and the curves of my breasts. “Second base.”
“Shirt on?”
“Off. We were both topless. Topless cuddles are best.” He watched as I absorbed the information, his face close to mine.
“Bra?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips, breathing hard. “So, you really think we should do this?”
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Sorry.”
“And stop apologizing.”
My mouth opened to repeat the sentiment but I snapped it shut.
“S’okay. You’ll get the hang of it.”
My brain stuttered and I stared at his mouth. He had the most beautiful mouth, with full lips that pulled up slightly at the edges. Stunning.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.
“You said not to think. And honestly, I’m not.”
“Good,” he said, leaning even closer. “That’s good.”
His lips brushed against mine, easing me into it. Soft but firm, with no hesitation. His teeth toyed with my bottom lip. Then he sucked on it. He didn’t kiss like the boys I knew, though I couldn’t exactly define the difference. It was just better and … more. Infinitely more. His mouth pressed against mine and his tongue slipped into my mouth, rubbing against mine. God, he tasted good. My fingers slid into his hair as if they’d always wanted to. He kissed me until I couldn’t remember anything that had come before. None of it mattered.
His hand slid around the nape of my neck, holding me in place. The kiss went on and on. He lit me up from top to toe. I never wanted it to end.
He kissed me ’til my head spun and I hung on for dear life. Then he pulled back, panting, and set his forehead against mine once again.
“Why did you stop?” I asked when I could form a coherent sentence. My hands pulled at him, trying to bring him back to my mouth.
“Shh. Relax.” He took a deep breath. “Did you remember something? Anything about that familiar to you?”
My kiss-addled mind came up blank. Damn it. “No. I don’t think so.”
“That’s a pity.” A ridge appeared between his brows. The dark smudges beneath his beautiful blue eyes seemed to have darkened. I’d disappointed him again. My heart sunk.
“You look tired,” I said.
“Yeah. Might be time to get some shut-eye.” He planted a quick kiss of my forehead. Was it a friend’s kiss or more? I couldn’t tell. Maybe it, too, was just for scientific purposes.
“We tried, huh?” he said.
“Yeah. We did.”
He rose to his feet, collecting his beer bottle. Without him to warm me the breeze blew straight through me, shaking my bones. It was the kiss though that had really shaken me. It had blown my ever-lovin’ mind. To think, I’d had a night of kisses like that and forgotten it. I needed a brain transplant at the earliest convenience.
“Do you mind if I come with you?” I asked.
“Not at all.” He held out a hand to help me to my feet.
Together, we wandered back up to the house, up the stairs into the master bedroom. I tugged off my shoes as David dealt with his own footwear. We lay down on the mattress, not touching. Both of us staring at the ceiling like there might be answers there.
I kept quiet. For all of about a minute. My mind was wide awake and babbling at me. “I think I understand a little better now how we ended up married.”
“Do you?” He turned his head to face me.
“Yes.” I’d never been kissed like that before. “I do.”
“C’mere.” A strong arm encircled my waist, dragging me into the centre of the bed.
“David.” I reached for him with a nervous smile. More than ready for more kisses. More of him.
“Lie on your side,” he said, his hands maneuvering me until he lay behind me. One arm slipped beneath my neck and the other was slung over my waist, pulling me in closer against him. His hips fit against my butt perfectly.
“What are we doing?” I asked, bewildered.
“Spooning. We did it that night for a while. Until you felt sick.”
“We spooned?”
“Yep,” he said. “Stage two in the memory rehab process, spooning. Now go to sleep.”
“I only woke up an hour ago.”
He pressed his face into my hair and even threw a leg over mine for good measure, pinning me down. “Bad luck. I’m tired and I wanna spoon. With you. And the way I figure it, you owe me. So we’re spooning.”
“Got it.”
His breath warmed the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Relax. You’re all tense.” His arms tightened around me.
After a moment, I picked up his left hand, running the pads of my fingers over his calluses. Using him for my fidget toy. The tips of his fingers were hard. There was also a ridge down his thumb and another slight one along the bottom of his fingers where they joined the palm of his hand. He obviously spent a lot of time holding guitars. On the back of his fingers the word Free had been tattooed. On his right hand was the word Live. I couldn’t help but wonder if marriage would impinge on that freedom. Japanese-style waves and a serpentine dragon covered his arm, the colors and detail impressive.
“Tell me about your major,” he said. “You’re doin’ architecture, right?”
“Yes,” I said, a little surprised he knew. I’d obviously told him in Vegas. “My dad’s one.”
He meshed his fingers with mine, putting the kibosh on my fidgeting.
“Did you always want to play guitar?” I asked, trying not to get too distracted by the way he was wrapped around me.
“Yeah. Music’s the only thing that ever really made sense to me. Can’t imagine doing anything else.”
“Huh.” It must be nice, having something to be so passionate about. I liked the idea of being an architect. Many of my childhood games had involved building blocks or drawing. But I didn’t feel driven to do it, exactly. “I’m pretty much tone deaf.”
“That explains a lot.” He chuckled.
“Be nice. I was never particularly good at sports either. I like drawing and reading and watching movies. And I like to travel, not that I’ve done much of it.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm.”
He shifted behind me, getting comfortable. “When I travel it’s always about the shows. Doesn’t leave much time for looking around.”
“That’s a pity.”
“And being recognized can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Now and then, it gets ugly. There’s a fair bit of pressure on us and I can’t always do what I want. Truth is, I’m kind of ready to slow things down, hang out at home more.”
I said nothing, turning his words over inside my head.
“The parties get old after a while. Having people around all the damn time.”
“I bet.” And yet, back in LA he’d still had a groupie hanging off him, cooing at his every word. Obviously parts of the lifestyle still appealed. Parts that I wasn’t certain I could compete with even if I wanted to. “Won’t you miss some of it?”
“Honestly, it’s all I’ve done for so damn long, I don’t know.”
“Well, you have a gorgeous home to hang out in.”
“Hmm.” He was quiet for a moment. “Ev?”
“Yeah?”
“Was being an architect your idea or your dad’s?”
“I don’t remember,” I admitted. “We’ve always talked about it. My brother was never interested in taking up the mantle. He was always getting into fights and skipping class.”
“You said you had a tough time at high school too.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I wriggled around, turned over so I could see his face. “I don’t usually talk about that with other people.”
“We talked about it. You said you got picked on because of your size. I figured that’s what set you off with my friends. The fact that they were bullying that girl like a pack of f*cking school kids.”
“I guess that would do it.” The teasing wasn’t a subject I liked to raise. Too easily, it bought back all of the crappy feelings associated with it. David’s arms didn’t allow for any of that to slip through, however. “Most of the teachers just ignored it. Like it was an extra hassle they didn’t need. But there was this one teacher, Miss Hall. Any time they started in on me or one of the other kids she’d intercede. She was great.”
“She sounds great. But you didn’t really answer my question. Do you want to be an architect?”
“Well, it’s what I’ve always planned to do. And I, ah, I like the idea of designing someone’s home. I don’t know that being an architect is my divine calling, like music is for you, but I think I could be good at it.”
“I’m not doubting that, baby,” he said, his voice soft but definite.
I tried not to let the endearment reduce me to a soggy mess on the mattress. Subtlety was the key. I’d hurt him in Vegas. If I was serious about this, about wanting him to give us another go, I needed to be careful. Give him good memories to replace the bad. Memories we could both share this time.
“Ev, is it what you want to do with your life?”
I stopped. Having already trotted out the standard responses, extra thought was required. The plan had been around for so long I didn’t tend to question it. There was safety and comfort to be had there. But David wanted more and I wanted to give it to him. Maybe this was why I’d spilled my secrets to him in Vegas. Something about this man drew me in and I didn’t want to fight it. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“That’s okay, you know.” His gaze never shifted from mine. “You’re only twenty-one.”
“But I’m supposed to be an adult now, taking responsibility for myself. I’m supposed to know these things.”
“You’ve been living with your friend for a few years, yeah? Paying your own bills and doing your classes and all that?”
“Yes.”
“Then how are you not taking responsibility for yourself?” He tucked his long dark hair behind an ear, getting it out of his face. “So you start out in architecture and see how you go.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is. You either stick with that or try something else, see how it works for you. It’s your life. Your call.”
“Do you only play guitar?” I asked, wanting to know more about him. Wanting the topic of conversation to be off me. The knot of tension building inside me was not pleasant.
“No.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—he knew exactly what I was about. “Bass and drums, too. Of course.”
“Of course?”
“Anyone passable at guitar can play bass if they put their mind to it. And anyone who can pick up two sticks at the same time can play drums. Be sure to tell Mal I said that next time you see him, yeah? He’ll get a kick out of that.”
“You got it.”
“And I sing.”
“You do?” I asked, getting excited. “Will you sing something for me? Please?”
He made a noncommittal noise.
“Did you sing to me that night?”
He gave me a small pained smile. “Yeah, I did.”
“So it might bring back a memory.”
“You’re going to use that now, aren’t you? Anytime you want something you’re going to throw it at me.”
“Hey, you started it. You wanted to kiss me for scientific purposes.”
“It was for scientific purposes. A kiss between friends for reasons of pure logic.”
“It was a very friendly kiss, David.”
A lazy smile lit his face. “Yes, it was.”
“Please sing me something?”
“Okay,” he huffed. “Turn back around then. We were in spoon position for this.”
I snuggled back down against him and he shuffled closer. Being David’s cuddle toy was a wonderful thing. I couldn’t imagine anything better. Pity he was sticking with the scientific rationale. Not that I could blame him. If I were him, I’d be wary of me.
His voice washed over me, deep, rough in the best way possible as he sang the ballad.
I’ve got this feeling that comes and goes
Ten broken fingers and one broken nose
Dark waters very cold
I know I’ll make it home
This sorry sun has burned the sky
She’s out of touch and she’s very high
Her bed was made of stone
I know I’ll break her throne
These aching bones won’t hold me up
My swollen shoes they have had enough
These smokestacks burn them down
This ocean let it drown
When he finished I was quiet. He gave me a squeeze, probably checking I was still alive. I squeezed his arms right back, not turning over so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. The combination of his voice and the moody ballad had undone me. I was always making a mess of myself around him, crying or puking. Why he wanted anything to do with me, I had no idea.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Anytime.”
I lay there, trying to decipher the lyrics. What it might mean that he’d chosen that song to sing to me. “What’s it called?”
“‘Homesick.’ I wrote it for the last album.” He rose up on one elbow, leaning over to check out my face. “Shit, I made you sad. I’m sorry.”
“No. It was beautiful. Your voice is amazing.”
He frowned but lay back down, pressed his chest against my spine. “I’ll sing you something happy next time.”
“If you like.” I pressed my lips to the back of his hand, to the veins tracing across, and the dusting of dark hair. “David?”
“Hmm?”
“Why don’t you sing in the band? You have such a great voice.”
“I do back-up. Jimmy loves the limelight. It was always more his thing.” His fingers twined with mine. “He wasn’t always the a*shole he is now. I’m sorry he hassled you in LA. I could have killed him for saying that shit.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. He was off his face. He didn’t have a f*cking clue what he was talking about.” His thumb moved restlessly over my hand. “You’re gorgeous. You don’t need to change a thing.”
I didn’t know what to say at first. Jimmy had said some horrible things and it had stayed with me. Funny how the bad stuff always did.
“I’ve both puked and cried on you. Are you entirely sure about that?” I joked, finally.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I like you the way you are, blurting out whatever shit crosses your mind. Not trying to play me, or use me. You’re just … being with me. I like you.”
I lay there speechless for a moment, taken aback. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime, Evelyn. Anytime at all.”
“I like you too.”
His lips brushed against the back of my neck. Shivers raced across my skin. “Do you?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Thanks, baby.”
It took a long time for his breathing to even out. His limbs got heavier and he stilled, asleep against my back. My foot went fuzzy with pins and needles but never mind. I hadn’t slept with anyone before, apart from the occasional platonic bed-sharing episode with Lauren. Apparently, sleeping was all I’d be doing today.
In all honesty, it felt good, lying next to him.
It felt right.