by Jodie Larson
Linda taps her fingers together. “Because Kade wasn’t the one flirting with all the girls to bring the hype. That was your job, and you did it well. Since Tatum has been on the tour, and you two reconciled or whatever, the girls aren’t flocking anymore. Talk has been down.” She tosses one of those stupid gossip magazines at me. “And this isn’t helping.”
The first thing I see is a pic of me and Tatum, snuggling together in a café back in Phoenix. I remember her having that morning after glow and I just had to kiss her. She looked so damn beautiful that I couldn’t help myself. The happiness doesn’t last as I realize our private moment was captured for millions of people to see and judge with their narrow minds. Kind of like the two people sitting at this table.
“Fuck them. What we do is our business.” I turn to Don. “And fuck you for not sticking up for us. This whole scheme was your idea. You wanted the two of us together and now that we are, you’re taking it back?” I can’t remember a time I’ve been this angry. Not even after she left. Blind rage flows through me.
Don looks almost sheepish. He fucking should. “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t think about what it would do to the band. From what Kade said, you two had chemistry. I thought maybe if we brought her along, it would help reignite some feelings and act as your muse again. Or get you to lighten up and be happy for a bit.”
“I am fucking happy.”
Linda rests back in her chair. “Tatum’s popularity has increased with each concert. Word has been travelling online like crazy, begging for more of her performances. I think I can get her booked as a headliner in some smaller venues to start. Her career could take off from this.”
I narrow my eyes. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Tatum needs to leave the tour so you can get your focus back.”
“And you think this will give me focus? Taking her away when we’re finally at a good spot? Years I’ve been pissed off at her, wondering what would have happened if she’d stayed. Now I know. We’d be together, like we were supposed to be from the start. And because you’re not seeing the dollar signs anymore, you can just play God and yank her away from me? Like she’s a goddamn toy for you to play around with?” The chair flies to the wall as I stand. “Fuck you. You’re not in charge of our lives.”
Don stands, holding his hands up defensively. “Look, no one wants to hurt either of you. We didn’t expect this result. Honestly, I thought you’d continue ignoring her because you were adamant on doing so in the beginning.”
“And if we refuse?”
Linda leans forward, a quiet wrath brewing behind her cold, blue eyes. “Check your contract. There will be repercussions if you decide to ignore what’s best for the band.”
And there it is. My hands are tied. Just when I’ve got Tatum back in my life, someone wants to rip her away. This time, it’s up to me to decide which is more important: my career, or Tatum. I want both. Why does it have to come to this? How am I going to tell her?
“That’s what I thought.” She takes the paper back, folding it in half. “Don’t say anything to Tatum yet. We have a meeting set up with her at the end of the tour for an evaluation so the situation will be brought up then.”
Don’s somber face gives me little comfort. Fucking asshole. He and Kade are the ones who pushed this, pushed me to her for the past couple months. Does Kade know about this? There has to be another solution. Maybe they can play off the media hype in a good way – “Bad boy rocker gets his shit together thanks to the love of a good woman”. Reporters eat that shit up. Instead, I get an ultimatum: Tatum or the band.
Trying to curb my bad mood, I pace the elevator on the way up to the condo. How in the hell am I going to tell her? More importantly, how am I supposed to let her go? I shouldn’t have to pick between Tatum and my career. Why can’t I have both? Kade has both. I’m sure Don does, though I’ve never actually asked. Maybe if I show them that I can focus when she’s around they’ll change their mind.
All thoughts drop from my head the minute I see her dancing around my kitchen in an outfit that gives little to the imagination. Her blond hair is piled high on her head with a few strands hanging down her long neck. The black tank top hugs her breasts, showcasing her flat, toned stomach, while her apple-shaped ass peeks out from her boy shorts. It’s like she walked out of my dreams. Wet ones.
She’s dancing around like no one’s watching. In her mind, I guess it’s true. I hang back in the shadows, admiring her curves and lines, the cute way she scrunches up her nose when she can’t quite hit the high notes. The soft cadence of her feet has me smiling at her carefree moment.
How can I take this away from her? From us? I’ve worked through my anger and pushed past the knife digging in my heart. Slowly the blade has retracted, giving me time to let the hole close just enough so it doesn’t hurt anymore. Tatum was the person I leaned on most. I knew as long as she was around, everything would be fine. Now it all will change. Again.
Before I have the chance to leave, Tatum leaps in the air, her startled gasp sounding above the music pouring out of the speaker on the counter.
“Jesus, you scared me.” She turns the music down. “Why are you lurking in the shadows?”
I take a step forward. “I don’t lurk.”
“Creep.”
“Stalk.”
“Spy.”
“All predators watch their prey before they devour them.” I scoop her up in my arms and push her against the counter. Every time we kiss, there’s a frantic need buzzing between us. This time, I want it to be different. I want to show her how much she means to me; how I’m more than the man I’ve become recently.
Her lips are like heaven, warm and inviting, soft and pliant as my tongue parts them to explore the treasure inside. Everything about this woman drives me nuts, like we were cut from the same mold. No other woman has made me feel this way. All the pretenders and wannabes that weren’t her, they never set my soul on fire. They never left an empty hole in my center like she does when she isn’t around. If I was being honest with myself, I’d admit that I never stopped loving her.
But I’m a liar.
I can’t open myself up to her again, especially since I know our fate. Instead, I’ll enjoy her now, pretend we have all the time in the world rather than the ticking time bomb looming over our heads.
Tatum pulls back, concern playing in her eyes. “Are you okay?” She runs a hand over my cheek. A simple touch, comforting and full of emotion. I kiss her lips once more, letting her sweetness fill my mouth.
“Fine. Just missed you is all.”
The smile on her face cracks my heart a little. How can I give up this beauty? Shaking off the negative feelings, I walk her back to my room.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.”
She blinks a few times. “Where? I mean, what should I wear?”
I laugh. “It’s Cali. Shorts are pretty much required everywhere.” When she looks at me unamused, I relent. “Something comfortable. I want to take you sightseeing today, show you L.A.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. Not the reaction I was expecting. “Well, okay, I guess.”
“What?”
“It’s just.” She sighs and sits on the bed. “We travel so much and see so many different cities. I was hoping we could just stay here today and relax. Spend time with each other.”
Once again she possesses the uncanny talent of reading my thoughts. Dealing with crowds on a rare day off isn’t really appealing, but I figured she’d want to get out, see the sights instead of being cooped up here all day long. I was wrong.
Sitting next to her, I grab her hand and kiss the back of it. “That sounds better. What did you have in mind?”
Tatum hops into my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. “I want to reconnect, get back what we had. I know we’re still fragile and you don’t fully trust me. I wouldn’t either if you had done the same to me.” She kisses me once. “I want us to be us again.”
I wrap my arms around
her waist, pulling her close. “I want that, too.”
This woman drives me crazy. She’s different than the girl I knew, yet there are still glimpses of the carefree spirit of her past. Before we would go out, explore, see what the world had to offer. Now, she’s careful, methodic. Not one to seek trouble, with the exception of the night at the club. She was the girl I had fallen in love with. If she wants to get back to that point, I know I’ll easily fall again. It wouldn’t be hard not to fall right now, if there wasn’t something holding me back. Knowing we’re not going to last kills every cell in my body.
How can I choose?
I can’t remember a time where I’ve laughed this much. Tatum has been telling jokes nonstop for the past hour. Horrible jokes, almost to the point where I can’t roll my eyes at her any longer. But listening to her laugh makes me endure the torture.
We set up camp in the living room, ordering takeout and gorging on pizza and Chinese. We’ve watched TV, or attempted to. Not sure that Seven is an appropriate make-out movie, but once we hit lust…we hit lust. Say what you want, but sex outside of the bedroom is nothing short of amazing.
Tatum was still amazed she’s the first girl I’ve ever brought home. I try not to talk about the women of the past. Every time I change the subject, she brings it back up. I don’t know if she’s trying to torture herself or come to grips with my old life. Or maybe she just wants to know. She stopped asking once we christened the entire apartment, putting any further discussion to rest.
“Do you still have that green notebook we used to write songs in?” Tatum twirls her finger over my naked chest, drawing invisible circles. The kitchen floor barely feels cold anymore as I snuggle her closer.
“Yeah. Where do you think a lot of our songs came from?”
She smiles. “I know, but I wasn’t sure if you still had the book or not. Maybe you were going off those awful demo tapes we recorded.”
I sit up, taking her with me. “Those I got rid of years ago. They were terrible. Like holding two radios next to each other to dub a tape.”
We lean against the cabinets and start getting dressed. “But they were the first ones. You should have kept them for nostalgic reasons.”
“Maybe Breck still has them. He’d do something like that. I’m convinced he has an entire attic of crap from high school still.”
Tatum shoves my shoulder. “Um, what about that box in your closet?”
“That’s different.”
“Pretty sure it’s the same.” Her eyes twinkle with humor.
I stand and snap the waistband of my boxers into place. “Do not compare those horrible tapes to years of us together. We were better than those train wrecks.”
Tatum leans against the counter, sliding my shirt on. Damn, that girl is trying to kill me. Naked with only her toned legs showing. It’s no wonder why she’s my muse.
“They weren’t train wrecks, just starting points. You knew you had to improve them and you did. I will compare our memories to those tapes because they were a part of each other. The good, the bad, the really good, the terrible. We were scratchy at one point, too. Then we worked together and turned it into something good. We’re a work-in-progress.” I look at her small hand in my own. So soft and gentle. It’s a hand that was made to fit mine. She’s right. We are like those old tapes. They’re a part of us, who we were. I can’t forget the past, no matter how hard I try.
“You’re right. If you really want to listen to them, I’ll ask the guys. Until then.” I sling her over my shoulder, her feet kicking wildly as she screeches in surprise. “We need to work. I have words running through my head and you’re going to help me.”
“Put me down!” I smack her bare ass and she yelps.
Once we reach the spare bedroom, I let her slowly slide down my body, inching the hem of the shirt higher until her feet touch the floor. Tatum’s still laughing as I walk to the desk and pull the notebook from a drawer. Before I even get back to her, she grabs it from my hands and sits in the middle of the room.
“Hey,” I say with little annoyance. It’s useless trying to be upset with her. All it takes is a look and she controls my very existence.
I watch her eyes flitter back and forth as she reads page after page of the words I’ve poured straight from my soul. After she left, I couldn’t bring myself to write in that notebook anymore. Too many memories that I didn’t want to deal with. It was easier to get a new one, start from a clean slate, which is what I had been using. Now that she’s here, I want to make magic again.
Sneaking out, I grab my guitar and find her still paging through the book. When she looks up at me, her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“I remember all those nights we spent working on these songs. Some of my happiest memories were writing them with you.”
Getting down on my knees, I lean forward and push my lips against hers. “Mine too.” Sitting back on my heels, I tune the guitar and hand her a pen. “You write, I’ll play. We’ll do this just like before.”
Her glowing smile lights up the room as we toss ideas back and forth. The words from earlier easily flow from my mouth, one after another, bearing my soul to the world. She doesn’t judge or interrupt me. Instead, she writes furiously, a perma-smile plastered on her face. This is what we were, partners working together to make something out of nothing. It’s a magic not everyone possesses. When we’re together, you can’t help but see the sparks around us.
Hours pass and we finally take a break. Tatum stands first, stretching from one side to the other. “Between the sex and this, I don’t know what’s making me more sore.”
I brace myself against the wall as I stretch my quad. “I’ll take either as a complement.”
“It’s just been a while for either. Takes a bit of getting used to.”
What? I freeze, letting her words invade my racing thoughts. Is she implying…?
“Getting used to?”
The color drains from Tatum’s face. “It’s just…forget it. It’s nothing.”
I set the guitar back in its case and grab both of her arms. “No, not going to happen. What were you going to say?”
Tatum looks down, keeping her focus on the floor. I place a finger under her chin, drawing her gaze back to mine. Her bottom lip quivers and judging by the rapid rise and fall of her chest, she’s breathing a little heavier. What is she nervous about?
“Okay, so, I know I keep focusing on your past conquests, even though you change the subject when I do.” She twists the hem of my shirt.
“Because it doesn’t matter.”
“And you haven’t asked about mine.”
“For the same reason.”
She shakes her head. “You need to know.” I don’t like where this is going. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. I don’t know what I expect to find when she opens them again, but it doesn’t compare to what she tells me next.
“I need you to know that my past isn’t quite as colorful as yours.” I slide my hands down her arms, hesitant to keep the contact. Tatum grabs my hand, squeezing tightly as she coaxes me to look at her. “When I say it’s been a while, I mean it.”
“How long is a while?” I’m surprised the words even form as I swallow around the lump in my throat. The world pauses as she brushes the back of her hand across my cheek.
“Nine years.”
Man, when Tatum delivers a blow, she doesn’t hold back. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I was morbidly curious to know her past, to prolong the torture that’s kept my mind racing since the first moment I saw her. Now I’m regretting this decision.
“So you haven’t…?”
She shakes her head again.
“Then who the fuck is Paul?” Her brows draw together as she stares at me.
“How do you know about him?”
Is she being coy on purpose? “You called out his name while sleeping. Most women don’t do that unless they’re emotionally attached to someone.”
Her eyes soften, hurt cros
sing her features. “Paul was my mom’s ex. They were together for a few years. He was in love with her. Then I showed up. At first, he was okay with it, but after a while, it wasn’t working anymore. Paul said he didn’t sign up to be a parent. So he left.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “I felt horrible for breaking them up, but my mom told me it was for the best. Anyone who couldn’t see I was someone worth knowing wasn’t needed in our lives.” She forces a smile. “You remain the only person I’ve ever been with.”
Fuck. Why’d she have to say it out loud? She stayed true, loyal, and I fucked every pussy from coast to coast because I was hurt.
I really am a manwhore.
I need to make this up to her.
She searches my face, waiting for an indication that I’ve understood her correctly.
I frame her face with my hands and kiss her properly. We start slow, soft caresses and nips. I drag her bottom lip through my teeth, leaving her moaning into my mouth. Just what I was looking for. I repeat the motion then run my tongue along the edge to soothe the sting. My cock stirs to life as I knead her tender ass. Each sigh and gasp fuels my lust – or love – and we haven’t even started yet.
One small shudder runs through her body before the tension leaves, making her pliant in my hands. I wrap my arms around her waist and pick her up as if she weighed as little as a feather. I seek entrance into her mouth with my tongue and she grants it with no hesitation.
Damn me for not putting a proper bed in here. I won’t take her like this, like some animal in heat because the urge hit me. She’s a woman worth savoring, taking my time to worship and adore every inch of her body. I won’t let her believe she’s just one of many. Not anymore.
Somehow I manage not to kill us as I blindly carry her into my bedroom. There are too many clothes in our way.
“Take it off,” she says, tugging at my pants.
