River James (Rockers Of Steel #3)

by Mj Fields

  “She was funny?”

  “No! Hell, she didn’t even smile unless I was making jokes. She begged for jokes.”

  Keanna reaches over and touches my chest. “The Joker?”

  I hold my hand over hers. “Yeah.”

  “She made you smile.”

  “She made me a lot of things.” I shake my head. “Stupid being one.”

  “Stupid?”

  “Yeah. Well, I think so. She got pregnant. Then she got dead.”

  “I’m really sorry.” She props her head on her hand and looks at me.

  “Fuck, I have no idea why it’s so fucking easy to spill this shit to you.”

  “It’s not me, River. From what I have been able to piece together, you have an amazing career because you’re extremely talented. There was an accident, a secret revealed, and everything changed. So now you are running in the opposite direction because you, River James, think that Finn …?” I nod at her questioning his name, mesmerized by the insight she has. And being high as hell, I allow the truth to unfold. The buzz numbs the pain of the truth, always has. “Because Finn Beckett is better than you?”

  I don’t answer right away. I don’t say shit while I look into her light brown eyes. Then I tell her, “The dark and the light.”

  “You made her laugh. Are you sure you’re the dark?”

  “Oh, I’m the dark. I gave her the cash she used to buy the drugs that she OD’d on … Or she got so fucked up she drowned at her foster family’s home on April fifth.”

  “Not your fault. It was her choice, River. You were kids.” I sit up, and she grabs my hand, stopping me, “Don’t go.”

  “I can’t do this. Fucked up or not, I can’t do this.” I try to get up, but she doesn’t let go. “If you’re gonna keep me in this bed, you better give me a damn good reason to stay.” I look back at her.

  “Like what? Let you fuck me after”—she swallows hard—”the Barbie?”

  I nod. “Gotta give me something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Something personal, something fucked up and embarrassing, and … I don’t know, Keanna, but I just gave you a shitload of way too much, and you’re giving me sympathy doe eyes, and of course I wanna fuck you. Jesus, Keanna.”

  “And I don’t want to feel used,” she says, dropping her eyes.

  “You know damn well I’ll get you there first.” I have no idea why I am reminding her of this.

  She knows.

  She. Knows.

  She smiles, yet her clear, white eyes get a little misty. “My embarrassing moment … If that’s what you need, then fine.” She takes a deep breath. “I suspected Miguel was cheating on me for a couple years. Hell, I saw him tripping over himself over some dumb, little, stick-thin Barbie bitch my last semester of nursing school, but I ignored it because I had to get through finals. I had to graduate because my grandmother was so damn proud that her granddaughter was getting her bachelor’s and becoming a nurse. So, as much as I would love nothing more than to get naked and sweaty with you, there is no way in hell I will allow myself to feel second best to another skank again.”

  “Okay, okay. But—”

  “No buts,” she demands, standing up from the bed.

  “Look, if it means anything, if you were around, I would have much rather come in your mouth.”

  “You really are an ass; you know that?” She shakes her head as she walks quickly into the bathroom and shuts the door.

  I look down at Tink, who is looking up at me. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no fucking clue how to deal with a woman like her.”

  I get up and head to the bathroom door, knocking once before pushing it open.

  She’s using my damn toothbrush!

  “Why wouldn’t you kiss me?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” I say, grabbing my toothbrush out of her hand, licking it, and then handing it back. “My mouth was on it before you put it in your mouth, too, so don’t look at me like I’m crazy.”

  “You, you—”

  “Just answer the question. Why wouldn’t you kiss me?”

  “It’s more intimate than a one-night stand.” She grabs the washcloth and runs it over her face.

  “It was a night and a day,” I argue.

  “It was—” She spits the toothpaste out, and for some fucking reason, that’s hot to me. “It is still a rough couple of days.”

  “You know my shit now, Keanna; how much more intimate can that be? I mean, I can fuck whomever I want, but trusting you with all that shit out there? That was fucking intimate, so stop fucking with me and give me those lips.”

  “You’ll stop trying to fuck me if I kiss you?”

  “Is this a game?” I ask because I am so fucking confused. Where did she come up with that?

  “No, it’s not a game.”

  “Then what is it?” I wonder.

  “Well, hell if I know!” She throws her hands up.

  “Trust is given, taken, and then pissed on in ten minutes,” I tell her.

  “All because I won’t fuck you?” She seems to be getting pissed, but fuck, so am I.

  “Hell, you won’t even kiss me.”

  I scratch my head and ponder the thought while she continues washing her face.

  I look up when she sets the washcloth down and reaches toward my face. I think shit’s going down. Shit I need to go down is going down.

  She cups my chin and pulls my face down. “You still have blood on your nose,” she says sorrowfully. “Let me.”

  She grabs the washcloth that’s sitting next to the sink, the one she used to wash her face, and wipes under and around my nose softly, gently, and fuck if that doesn’t do something to me.

  “Now let me see your hand.”

  I give her the good one, but she shakes her head, so I give her the one with all the scars. She turns my palm facing down.

  “All this talk about grip and being able to make a fist doesn’t mean you’re supposed to fight all the time to test your recovery.” She places my hand under the faucet, rubbing over it, moving it all around, making a fist while she washes it. “It’s not your grip River. It’s your wrist.”

  I nod since it’s true.

  “Have you told Natasha?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug.

  “Because you’re afraid you’ll be ready faster and have to face him?”

  I shrug again.

  “Well, the way I see it, he tried to make amends today.”

  “Because she made him,” I point out as she massages my wrist.

  “You give the woman too much credit. We can’t make men do or be anything. People can’t really make people do anything. We can just suggest, support, and help.”

  “You give men a lot more credit than they deserve,” I inform her, shaking my head. “If you’re the owner of a hot, little twat with an ounce of kindness and confidence, you can rule the world.”

  She smiles at me and shakes her head.

  “What?”

  “Women can fake confidence just like they can fake an orgasm.” She turns off the water and grabs a towel, drying my hand off.

  I reach out and push her hair away from her face. She has little cuts that are now exposed without her makeup on.

  “That motherfucker made you fake orgasm and marked up your face. He shouldn’t be breathing.”

  “Like I said, today was a rough day.”

  I lean in and kiss her cheek, which she allows.

  “As much as I want those lips, I won’t push anymore,” I promise. “I am a selfish fuck, Keanna. I don’t know what kind of friend I can actually be to you.”

  She looks up at me and nods. “One day at a time.”

  I take her hand this time, not because I know it’s the right thing to do, but because it feels right. We then walk to the bed, and Tink is off of it now. We both look around to find her next to the glass door, her face and body squished against it, holding her up.


  I chuckle, and Keanna lets go of my hand and almost skips to her. When she squats down and hugs her, Tink leans into the hug, and they both fall over. It’s kind of beautiful.

  Keanna giggles as Tink buries her nose into her neck. I grab my phone and take a picture.

  I get lost in it, lost in an exchange that is nothing but the real thing. The woman is happy, the dog feels loved, and—

  “A little help here,” Keanna says, still giggling.

  “Shit, sorry.” I toss my phone on the bed and grab Tink, pulling her upright. “You gotta take a piss?” I hold her collar while reaching down for Keanna’s hand. She takes it, and I pull her up.

  “Thank you, kind sir.” She snorts and then lets go to open the door. “Come on, Tinker Bell; let’s go potty.”

  Tink pushes herself up on all fours, and it clearly takes some effort. Then Keanna steps into my boots and walks out the door.

  I find my slides and shove my feet in them before walking out behind them.

  Tink starts licking the deck, gobbling up some of the snow.

  “I’ll go and get her bowl.”

  “Water bowl.” Keanna reiterates.

  “Right.” I nod and start to turn toward the room.

  “Pants!” Keanna giggles, and I stop dead and look back.

  The light surrounds her again, and I am so fucking painfully aware of how drawn to her I am.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Keanna. So fucking beautiful.”

  She looks like she is about to cry.

  “Sorry, babe, but it’s the truth.” I grab a pair of shorts out of my dresser and throw them on. “Tink gets water; what do you want?”

  I look back to see she is still looking at me the same way.

  She swallows down some sort of emotion and whispers, “The same.”

  Tinker Bell falls asleep with her nose next to the shallow, stainless steel bowl River brought in as a water dish.

  “Should I put her on the bed?” he asks, looking at her. “She can’t be comfortable.”

  “She’s a dog, River.” I smile. “And she’s high. She probably doesn’t care where she is sleeping or how uncomfortable she is.”

  “No shit, right?” He smiles and nods, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

  “Haven’t we all?”

  He drags his hands over his head, then walks over and grabs a pillow and the throw from the end of the bed.

  “Are you sleeping down there with her?” I ask, almost immediately regretting it. I mean, it’s pretty ballsy to think he wouldn’t expect me to. “I mean, I could.”

  He doesn’t bat an eye at what I said. He kneels down next to her, lifts her head, and places it on the pillow, and then covers her up with the blanket.

  “You think she’ll be too warm?”

  “No. She’s right next to the door. It’s colder down there.”

  “Do you think she’ll be too cold?” he asks, putting his hand on the glass.

  “No, Goldilocks. I think she’ll be just right.”

  “Who the hell is Goldilocks?” he asks as he stands up.

  “Goldilocks and the Three Bears? A childhood fairytale? You know, like the kind your mom read to you at bedtime?”

  He just looks at me and shakes his head. “No one read to me at bedtime.”

  Immediately, I want to know how that is possible.

  “Did you …? I mean, were you … poor?”

  “Fuck no.” He chuckles uncomfortably. “I was privileged.”

  “Oh.” I want to ask a million questions, but I feel like he might get upset, angry, and we have made progress tonight.

  He jumps in the middle of the bed and pats both sides of him. “Which side, Keanna Sutton?”

  I look at him and shake my head.

  “Look, as much as I wanna be inside you, I want you to get some sleep, too. I will behave.”

  I kick off his boots and climb in. “This side. That way, if she wakes up in the middle of the night, I’ll hear her.”

  He covers me up, tucking me in tightly, and then kisses my scratches before lying down on his back.

  “You want me to tell you about Goldilocks and the Three Bears?”

  He glances over and smiles. “That would be cool.”

  As I tell him all about the little girl who was lost in the woods and finds a cottage, tries out three chairs, three different porridges, and then three beds until she finds the one that is just right, I lightly scratch his hair with one hand, and he holds the other against his chest.

  When I know he’s asleep, I look at the alarm clock on the dresser. It’s three in the morning.

  “Happy birthday, River James.” I bend down and brush my lips against his, careful not to wake him up.

  *****

  I wake to soft whimpers and small movement.

  When I open my eyes and my ears have the time to adjust to my surroundings, I realize it’s him again.

  “Get the fuck off me. No, don’t. No,” he mumbles as he thrashes under the covers like he is trying to fight something.

  It’s the same way I woke yesterday after our nap. I don’t want the same thing to happen, and I know I should leave him alone, but it hurts my heart to see him suffering.

  “River, it’s okay,” I whisper gently, sitting up. “River.” I take his hand in mine, and he immediately pulls it away as if I hurt him. His movements get angrier, but then he curls up again, and I swear, in the darkness, I hear him cry.

  I wait it out, continuing to watch him as he falls back to sleep. I lie back down and put my hand on his head, rubbing his scalp with my nails.

  “Keanna,” he mumbles in a whisper. Then his body uncurls, and his breath evens out as he rolls to his back. Through the moon’s light coming through the window, he looks peaceful.

  I lie closer to him, knowing his nightmare has subsided, and he rolls to his side, trying to get comfortable. His head lies against my chest, his arm snaking around my waist, and he sighs as he finds peace and comfort in a warm body.

  After a day like yesterday, it feels so odd that I would be able to sleep without wonder or worry that my ex would try to come after me … again. I eventually doze off, feeling safe and protected by a man who became an unlikely hero to me today.

  *****

  I wake again to River practically on top of me. The hand that was around my waist is now on my boob, his nose buried in my neck, and his knee is snug against my lady parts.

  I want to be annoyed. I’m tired and have had little to no sleep, and my dog is still sleeping. But as I glance down at him, knowing what I now know about the sexiest drummer in the world, I could stay here all day.

  I haven’t had a weekend off since I took the job in the pediatric wing, so this is just fine with me. Plus, I start my job at the center, Monday with a seven to three job, Monday through Friday. Life is about to change.

  “Morning,” he grumbles, squeezing my boob. “I pick this bed, these pillows, and—”

  I smack his hand away, and he looks up at me with shiny, clear, hazel eyes; a devilish grin. He lays his head back down, then lazily moves his hand down my body until it comes to rest on my hip. I feel him relax.

  “Happy birthday, Riv—”

  He pulls me up and on top of him, and I squeal in horror and delight.

  “It is now.” He chuckles.

  I look down at a much different River than I saw last night or yesterday morning.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asks as his hands grip my hips.

  “Yes. And you?” Immediately I regret asking the question, and I see his eyes squint for a second, recognizing my regret.

  “Not sure. I was asleep, but I woke up really fucking well.”

  I lean down and cup his face. Then I rub his stubble. “You look amazing in the morning.”

  “And how do I feel?” He gives a sleepy, sexy smile.

  I reach up and touch his forehead. “Fine.”

  He snickers. “I’m talking about the nine inches
pressing against your pussy.”

  Before I have a chance to hit him, my phone goes off. I lean over to grab it, climbing off him to see it’s Natasha.

  “Oh, shit, I never even left a note,” I grumble, hopping off the bed.

  “Hey,” I answer, and Tink sits up when she hears me. “Sorry. Tink had an issue, and I needed to come. You were asleep.”

  Tink walks to the door and starts to whine. I look back and smile at River, pointing to his boots, asking his permission to wear them. He nods, stands up, yawns, and stretches.

  “Damn,” I remark as I open the French doors to let Tink out.

  “Damn, what?” Natasha asks.

  “Nothing,” I answer.

  “Spill it,” she whispers.

  I know leaving her was wrong, but I did make sure she was asleep. Still, I feel I have to give her something, and River can’t hear me.

  “River James in ball shorts and morning wood, dayum.”

  She laughs, and I do, too.

  “Did you get some more last night?”

  “No, not even the tip.” I giggle as I grab Tink’s collar and drag her to the steps when she starts to squat to pee on the deck … again.

  “What? Why?” she gasps.

  “Long story, no time. Tink, come on; I am freezing,” I say as I try warming my body by jumping up and down.

  I look back to find a very amused-looking River standing in the doorway.

  What? I mouth.

  “River James in ball shorts and morning wood, dayum,” he mocks, using some sort of chick voice. My jaw drops, and he grins. “It’s my birthday, babe; why not come and give me some?”

  “Call the car sales girl,” I retort smugly, then turn around so he can’t see the fact that I am incredibly embarrassed that he heard me.

  “The what?” Natasha asks.

  “Nothing, nothing. Do you know how freaking cold it is outside?”

  “Go inside. I’ve got this,” River says from behind me.

  I turn around and look at him. “You’re half naked. At least I have a tank top and sweats on.”

  “You see how hot I am?” He winks. “Go inside. I wouldn’t want you to get a chest cold, babe.”

  “Did he just call you babe?” Natasha asks.

  “Yeah.” I walk past River and mouth thank you.

  Once in the bathroom, I shut the door behind me. “I’ve had to pee for fifteen minutes, so I’m gonna mute you.”