Playing the Pauses (Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll Book 2)

by Michelle Hazen

  Jera swipes tears away. “Maya comes first. I know that, I wouldn’t do it any other way, and I certainly would never ask Jacob to. She’s a child, you know?”

  “But nobody wants to be second choice,” I say softly, so she won’t have to.

  She shoves a fist against her mouth to muffle her sob, tossing a wild glance out the sliding glass door to check on Maya before her eyes fall again. “It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid and it was cruel of me to even hesitate, but I just want him to marry me because he wanted to. For me, not because I love Maya.”

  I slide out of my chair and onto my knees, wrapping my arms around her as she begins to quake with sobs she’s fighting to keep silent. I can’t do anything to help the liquid wavering of my own vision as I hug her tight, hoping that Danny’s having better luck with Jacob.

  I let Jera cry until she finally has to pull away and go look for a tissue, and then I check on Maya before I get back into my chair.

  Jera blows her nose as she comes back to the table. “I’m sorry. This is so not your problem, and I promise I’ll be able to play our show tomorrow, no matter what.”

  “Don’t apologize, and I don’t even want to talk about the show right now.” I lean forward. “But can you answer me two questions?”

  She picks up another tissue and dabs at her eyes, nodding. “Yeah, whatever you need.”

  “It’s not about the show. Look, you want to marry Jacob, right?”

  “God, yes.” Her shoulders slump. “But after that whole scene in the airport, I’ll be lucky if he ever speaks to me again. Can you imagine? He proposed, and I ran. In front of everyone.”

  “I’ve seen you guys together, remember? When he was visiting, I practically had to get a winch to pry you two apart before you went on stage. I don’t figure talking will be a problem. But last week, it seemed like you were excited about adopting Maya, apart from worrying about the impact your career might have on her life.”

  “No kidding.” Jera wads up a tissue and looks out the glass doors. “That little girl has had such a hard life already, and the last thing she needs is a semi-absent mother.”

  “It’ll be tough. You can’t have it all, not in real life.” I grimace. “But semi-absent is better than no mother at all, right?”

  Jera huffs out a surprised laugh. “Wow, okay, when you put it like that.”

  “All right, before I say this, remember you need me to finish this tour and if you murder me, the logistics will be a nightmare. Also, I’m only opening my mouth because you are a super tough chick and I think you can take it.”

  Jera throws me a narrow, sidelong look through puffy eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re not freaking me out with all the disclaimers or anything. I’m uber calm. Like spa calm.”

  “Good, because there are a lot of sharp objects in here.”

  “Not helping...”

  I fold my hands on the table in front of me. “You and Jacob have identical dreams. You want to raise Maya as your own, and you’re stupid in love with each other, and want to get married, and probably have tons more gorgeous babies, right?”

  “Yes, but what if I would have said no to the adoption?” Her shoulders slump as she shreds a tissue.

  “Are you crazy? Your happily ever after just arrived by express mail, and you’re second-guessing it?” I slap my palm on the table and lean forward. “There are tons of people out there in love but held apart by unhappy marriages or career conflicts or religion or, I don’t know, herpes, and you’re what-ifing scenarios that didn’t even happen? You want exactly the same things at the same time! Be grateful!” Jera is starting to laugh now, and I fall back in my chair, half for the effect, half in relief. “And frankly, honey, if you’re not going to go fuck the brains out of that delicious man, God knows I will.” She snorts into another round of laughter and I cross my legs. “No, I’m serious. Give me his number.”

  “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

  “No. You’re having a completely understandable reaction to a complicated situation.” I pause to let my words sink in. “But if you let him slip away over a what-if, then you’re an idiot.”

  She looks down. “I don’t even know where he went, and I don’t want to do this over the phone. Running is...it’s sort of something I promised him I was done doing, and he already gave me a second chance I didn’t deserve, coming after me in the airport. I couldn’t even manage to say anything coherent to him. He kept telling me it was okay, that we would fix whatever was wrong, and I just told him I’d take Maya home and then walked away. I was such a crazy bitch.”

  “Logistics, I can fix. Just sit tight.”

  Jera bites her lip, watching me as I dial Danny’s number.

  “Kind of busy right now,” he answers. “What’s up?”

  “Do you know where Jacob is?”

  “I do.”

  “Is he with you?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, that explains the cryptic answers. “Where are you? And also, he doesn’t have a poised razor blade, does he?”

  Jera cringes.

  “Airport bar. And give me some fucking credit, woman.”

  An affectionate smile tugs at my lips. I don’t envy him trying to comfort a guy who just got semi-dumped in the midst of his very public proposal, but if anybody could pull it off without pity or disaster, it’d be Danny. “Bring him home.”

  Danny pauses. “Be sure.”

  My heart gives a hard thump, because that must mean he doesn’t think Jacob can handle another disappointment today. I don’t know which cuts me deeper: Jacob’s plight or Danny’s concern for his friend. “Give me some fucking credit, man.”

  He makes only a single sound, but I can tell he’s smiling when he hangs up.

  I turn to Jera. “Jacob’s on his way.”

  Chapter 16: Stay

  Jacob’s older sister comes to pick up Maya, and after that we still have way too much time for Jera to pace in front of the house as we wait. I spend it reassuring her while my imagination plays scenarios wherein Jacob comes home only to dump her in a loud and soul-crushing fashion, thanks to my brilliant advice. In between pep talks, I move my luggage to the front porch, so I can take off if it goes well and they need privacy. Or so I can use my meager wardrobe to staunch her tears if it goes poorly, I guess.

  I don’t recognize the old, battered car the guys are driving, but when Jera’s head comes up, so does mine.

  The car screeches to the curb, the passenger door bangs open, and Jacob leaps out. Through the open door I can see Danny in the driver seat, and he waves me in with two casual fingers, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m leaving with him. Jacob passes me without a glance, and I dart for the car, shoving my carry-on and suitcase in the back and dropping into the passenger seat.

  “Wait!” I protest when Danny puts the car in gear. “Don’t you want to make sure they’re going to be okay before we abandon her here?”

  “If they’re together, they’ll be fine.” He rolls his eyes and revs the engine a little as he drops it back into neutral. “You forget I’ve seen them fight before. It lasts about five minutes and ends in a lot of making out.” He gestures to the window and I turn my head, my stomach rising like a balloon until it’s lodged somewhere near my lungs.

  They met in the center of the lawn, and Jacob holds Jera so tightly his biceps bulge against the sleeves of his shirt. The toes of her shoes barely skim the blades of grass as he cradles her in his arms, kissing her like it’s the first time. Tears stream down Jera’s cheeks and I catch my breath, my hand rising to my face.

  “It’s okay, right? Those are happy tears?”

  Danny chuckles, and I reach over blindly to slap at his leg, unable to look away. Jera finally pulls back and her mouth moves as she says something to Jacob. I can’t hear her, but it looks like “yes” and the relief on his face when he swoops down to kiss her again confirms it.

  “Okay, you can go.” I sigh, turning around and squeezing Danny’s thigh with a sm
ile. “Thank you for indulging my girly moment. That was better than any rom-com I’ve seen in years.”

  His eyes are warm, his leg flexing under my palm as he switches from the brake to the gas. “No problem. I’m just glad I didn’t have to stay at the airport bar, watching Jacob try not to cry into his beer until we got to the crying into the toilet phase. Talk about the last way I wanted to spend my first night off.”

  “How are you going to spend your first night off, now that you’re free of bro-support duty?” I watch him thread the old car expertly into rush-hour traffic. It’s not a hint. Not really. Not that it would hurt to give him a tiny nudge in the right direction. I mean, what guy doesn’t want to get booty called, right?

  “Mmm...” He shifts gears and pretends to consider it. “I was thinking about going to a museum, possibly taking in a showing at the opera.”

  I snort. “Okay...so beer, pizza and South Park?”

  “Give me some credit for class.” He gives me a sidelong glance, his eyes dancing despite the casual façade of his relaxed features. “I was thinking more like porn and Tillamook ice cream.”

  I burst into laughter. “You are so busting me right now. As soon as I get off tour, I always promise myself I’m going to take the time to work out, start some classes in Spanish and wheel-thrown pottery, all that good stuff I never get around to doing. And for the first week, it’s nothing but porn and Chinese takeout.”

  He shifts in his seat, my hand ending up closer to his fly than it was originally. “Careful, woman. You really want to tell me you like watching porn while I’m driving a manual transmission on a borrowed car—in traffic—after not seeing a steering wheel for nearly two months?”

  I playfully raise my hand another inch, just enough for the edge of my palm to nudge his growing hard on. “Not just any porn. Good porn. And what is Tillamook ice cream? Is that a flavor?”

  He gives me a disbelieving look that nearly ends with us rear-ending the minivan in front of us. “You’re telling me a world traveler like you has never heard of Tillamook ice cream?”

  I gesture at the road. “Pay attention, Rock Star, or we’re not going to get to the world traveling portion of your tour.”

  He shakes his head, looking highly disappointed. “Tillamook ice cream, Kate, is what happens when regular ice cream gets born again and finds Jesus. In Oregon. It comes in about fifteen flavors that will make you write spontaneous love sonnets.”

  “More like epic poems, considering that was the most words I’ve heard you say at once since we met. I’m sold.”

  “I’ll have to buy you some before we have to go back on the road again.” He frowns at the sign listing upcoming exits. “So do you have a hotel I’m supposed to be taking you to?”

  “Did you just accuse me of forgetting to make a reservation for myself? Have you met me?”

  The corners of his eyes crinkle, but they smooth again as he coughs once into his fist and then checks the side mirror. “So, you wanna see my place?”

  Is he...nervous? I pause and find myself checking my own side mirror to stall. Did he mean that I should come over for a quickie or for the night? I sneak a look from beneath my eyelashes, but now his face is completely unreadable; one wrist draped over the steering wheel as he shifts with a casual flick of his fingers. I clear my throat, uncertain if seeing his home would be crossing any of the lines of our agreement.

  But the truth is, I do want to see it. He pays so little attention to his surroundings that it’s hard to imagine what sort of home he would create for himself. Will he have some minimalist condo with square, hard furniture, or an impersonally decorated McMansion? Maybe someplace with fountains in the foyer, but done up in the Bachelor Pad Chic of too little Ikea furniture and a kegerator?

  I re-cross my legs. “Actually, I’d love to see your place.”

  For a second, he has absolutely no reaction, and then Danny smiles, his whole face brightening. I tuck my hands into my lap and keep my eyes forward, my chest inexplicably warm.

  He turns the car up a steep hill and when he parks, it’s in front of a tall building that’s all dark slate and glass. It’s broken up like condos or apartments, slim units lined up next to each other with one-car garages tucked underneath. They look upscale, but not fancy, and actually kind of...small.

  I glance at my suitcase in the backseat, but only take my purse. He might just be inviting me over for drinks, or more likely a swift hook up. I have no idea if he’d want me to sleep over. He pockets the car keys and has to go to his suitcase in the trunk to dig up another keyring, but he leaves our luggage behind when he locks the car. At the other side of the apartments, the hill drops steeply away so the houses below disappear. My eye falls immediately on the river beyond them, and the snowy mountain far away on the skyline. Tearing my gaze away from the view, I let Danny lead. He shoves his beanie harder onto his head as he climbs the stairs.

  “I always saw these lofts from the road, imagined myself living there.” He shrugs tightly. “They’re only a few hundred more than I was paying, but on what I made tattooing, it didn’t seem like it’d probably ever happen. But when we got signed...” He flashes me a half-smile as he unlocks the door. “I moved. Bought a new bed. Oh, and a coffee table, because I had to give Jera my old one after I broke hers.”

  I smile. In his hometown, he’s almost...talkative. I kind of like it, and wow, how freaking adorable is it that he got an advance that would buy a pretty respectable sports car and all he did was upgrade his apartment a notch?

  He leads me inside, and the first thing I see is the wide-planked dark wood floor. A bench rests by the door with abandoned shoes scattered all around it. Danny toes his off and I do the same as I glance around. The first part of the apartment is cozy, a little kitchen with deep blue stoneware tiles and cabinets that match the floors. A bar lined with mismatched barstools borders the kitchen, and then the whole room opens up into a living room—high ceilings end in rough-wood rafters, fronted by endless windows that look past the neighborhood below to the Willamette River.

  My eyes widen and I move farther into the room, drawn by the view. It feels expansive inside, but as I glance around, the place is actually tiny. There’s a door open into a half bath, though no bedroom. The living room has two long, comfy-looking leather couches around a sleek coffee table that matches the floorboards, remotes and video game controllers resting in a square basket on top. The flat screen TV sits off to the side, not competing with the windows.

  “This is gorgeous...” I breathe. Not that I knew what to expect, but this is a different animal than any of my guesses. Classy but not ostentatious, uncluttered but inviting. Most of all, there’s an easy quiet to the space that matches the man who lives here, and it makes me want to sink down onto one of the leather couches and just...exhale.

  “You haven’t seen the best part yet.” Danny catches my hand and tugs me over to a spiral staircase tucked into the corner of the room. Excitement shines in his eyes, and I find myself grinning, happy because he’s happy and for no better reason.

  He jogs up the stairs into an open loft, an espresso-colored wood railing guarding the edge but not obscuring the views from the window beyond. It borders a large master bedroom, but the lamps and bureaus and even the incredible sweep of the river fade away when I see the king-sized bed.

  Black leather pegged in a diamond cushioned design pads the large headboard and a wide border around the mattress. Each tuft is anchored in the center by shining chrome rings that make me catch my breath, my body responding in a heedless rush to what is, hands-down, the most gorgeous piece of bondage equipment I’ve ever seen.

  “Holy fuck,” I murmur, and I can feel Danny’s smile without even looking at him.

  He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and resting his chin on the top of my head.

  “Stay,” he says quietly.

  My heart flutters against the steadiness of his arms, and I smile. “You just brought me here to lure me in w
ith that bed.”

  He makes a sound that could mean any number of things, and bends his head to kiss my hair. “Stay,” he says again. “We can do our own things this week. But when we’re both free, I’d like to show you around, help you enjoy your time off. You don’t have to go to a hotel if you don’t want to.”

  “You asking me to move in with you?” I tease. “Or wait, is this about the porn and spiritually fulfilling ice cream you promised me?”

  Danny’s thumb rubs once over my shoulder and he doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond.

  My brain runs through roughly two hundred possible motivators for his behavior in the space of thirty seconds. At the end of that period, I’m hopelessly confused, more nervous than I want to admit to being, and my throat is tight because he’s still holding me and he hasn’t said a thing.

  “Okay,” I whisper, and have to clear my throat before I trust my voice to sound normal again. “I’ll stay.”

  Chapter 17: The Best Part of Waking Up

  After a week of testing, I’ve decided that the morning hush of Danny’s apartment has a different feel than any other kind of silence I can remember. Softer, maybe.

  I blame the setting for my languorous mood. Instead of taking a shower, I wound my hair—still tangled from Danny’s fingers—into a lazy swirl secured with one of his stubby pencils. And on the kitchen bar in front of me, my iPad is showing the entertainment news instead of the list of people I should be emailing to try and line up my next job.

  I wish I could afford to take a few weeks off before I start hustling after the next opportunity. Though I’m not entirely sure I need it this time, considering I’m more relaxed after five days in Portland than I usually get after even three weeks off the road. Probably it’s the drug of all those orgasms, loosening my muscles. Or maybe the hot yoga class I hit with Jera yesterday.

  The stairs creak, and I look up as Danny comes downstairs wearing shorts and a hoodie unzipped over a muscle shirt.