I silently shook my head.
“Really?” Austin asked. “Not even your…”
“Baby daddy?” I filled in for him before laughing bitterly. “I really hate that phrase by the way, but no. Jordan wasn’t the type to commit. Hence the disappearing act when Wyatt was two weeks old. Jordan wasn’t interested in diapers and a colicky crying baby. Or celibacy. Apparently six weeks was an eternity to him.”
Austin blinked. “Fuck, babe. Maybe you should take the shot anyway. I feel like I need one after that.”
“Not the rules of the game. Besides, I stopped wishing Jordan was a different man a long time ago. There’s nothing I can do about it. I just wish he’d step up when it comes to Wyatt. My boy deserves so much more than the crappy hand he’s been dealt.” I blinked away the sheen of tears when I thought about Wyatt and how much I struggled to give him so very little. I cleared my throat roughly. “Anyway, I think it’s my turn. Uh, never have I ever posed mostly naked for a magazine.”
“Well, I guess I have to do two shots for that one. Touché.” Austin tossed me a look that said he knew I’d changed the subject and then downed his shot and mine before I could blink and without a wince from him.
I smiled feeling lighter than I had only a moment ago. He could be such a goofball sometimes. “Impressive. So, two almost-nude layouts? I only saw the one.”
“I shoot the second one next month.”
I wasn’t sure, but it looked like he grimaced as he said that. I tilted my head. “Do you like doing them?”
“Hell no. They’re fucking embarrassing, but the editor talked me into the first one before I knew what I was doing. The amount of shit I got for holding the muffler in front of my junk…” He shook his head with a soft laugh. “But it got more visibility than I’d ever had. My business really took off, and I had TV producers begging me for meetings. It was insane.”
“So, it was worth the price?”
“In the end, yeah, but at the time I was scared shitless. I puked in the dressing room before I came out in my little towel. I was so fucking nervous.”
I bit my lip. It was sweet to know that this big, tough, strong man had felt so vulnerable. Too often it was women pressured to be in the position he’d described. That he’d felt just as powerless was kinda powerful in its own right.
I refilled the shot glasses and tipped my head at him. “Your turn.”
“Hmmm, never have I ever… graduated college.”
I shook my head. “Me neither. I got through two years of my degree, and then I got pregnant.”
“Do you regret it?”
“That I had Wyatt? Never. That I sacrificed so much for my relationship with Jordan?” I sighed. “No. I’ll be able to tell my son that I did everything possible to make it work with his dad, but we’re just two different people. I try to live my life with no regrets. Sometimes that’s easier said than done though.”
“Like when you took this job.”
“It’s not that big of a regret. A small blip really. You’ve helped me see that.” I tilted my head and toasted him with my still full shot glass. “Thanks.”
Austin smiled, and the sight made my insides jiggle. Crap, I really shouldn’t let myself feel anything like that. We were short term. I had to remember that. No matter how sweet and gorgeous he was. After tonight, I’d never see him again.
He shrugged. “You can always go back, right? I mean to school?”
“Yeah. Never say never, right? But being a physical therapist is a pipe dream at this point. I still have a year and a half on my undergraduate degree, and I’d still have to do a doctoral program, and then complete a residency. Besides I don’t know if I want to go into that field anymore. I’ve had way too much personal experience.” Memories of my mom in the hospital and then later at home slammed into me. It’d been the hardest months of my life. Now, the thought of physical therapy was intricately tied to my mom. Aware I’d been lost in my own thoughts for too long, I met Austin’s concerned gaze then laughed uncomfortably before clearing my throat. “Anyhow, my turn, right?”
I reached for the tequila bottle but couldn’t see through the sheen of tears. I tipped the bottle, and in less than a second, tequila went everywhere. I slammed the bottle down and searched frantically for something to clean it up with. “Shit!”
Austin pushed a bunch of fabric into the puddle as he made a hushing sound. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s that saying? No crying over spilled milk? Same thing. Only a little sadder because, I mean, it is precious tequila.”
A sob escaped me and Austin cursed under his breath.
“Shit. It’s totally fine, baby.” Austin clasped my shoulders and pulled me toward his naked chest.
It was only then that I realized he must’ve taken his shirt off to clean up. And I really must’ve been a mess if I didn’t notice that he’d stripped. Damn, I was pathetic. After only one shot, I was already a weepy mess. I pulled back to swipe at my eyes. “I’m sorry. I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down if you don’t mind.”
“Fuck yes, I mind. And what the hell did I say about apologizing so goddamn much? You need to knock that shit off.”
“I’m sorry.” I bit my bottom lip and winced as I realized that I’d apologized again. “It’s like my default setting. I really don’t think I can do anything about it.”
Austin gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “Fine. Now how about you tell me what the hell caused your little break down there? What do you have against physical therapists?”
“It’s a long, sad story.” I shrugged uncomfortably and avoided his eyes. Despite our clothing disparity, I was the one who felt naked.
“Okay, how about this?” Austin said, drawing my attention to him. “I’ll trade you your one long, sad story for one of mine.”
“You have a sad story, too?”
“Sweetheart, everyone has a long, sad story. We’re all just a collection of walking war wounds. But how you pick yourself up and keep on moving makes you the person you are.”
I nodded slowly as I thought through what he’d said. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the only person in creation who’d had hard time. But sometimes it felt like the hard times were never going to end.
Finally, I sighed and told him. “A little less than four years ago, my mom was driving home from work in the middle of a snowstorm and lost control of her car. It rolled down the embankment and she was trapped inside for—I don’t even know—hours. She had broken bones—including three vertebrae in her back—frostbite, hypothermia. She wasn’t conscious when they brought her in. They didn’t even know if she’d live or if she would have brain damage if she woke up. It was the scariest night of my life. And then, miracle of miracles, she woke up, and she was my mom. She was whole. But she couldn’t feel her legs. She was paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Christ.” Austin hissed. “That’s—that really fucking sucks. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
I smiled sadly. I’d heard those words so many times when people found out about my mom. Although the irony of Austin using them now didn’t escape me. “Thanks.”
“Wait, you said four years ago? So that’s when…”
“Yeah. It was stressful, and I didn’t know if she would even wake up, so it was this whole cacophony of life and death and doctors and hospitals, and I just wanted to feel like something, somewhere in my life was real and safe. That whole cliched life affirming sex thing.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, Jordan and I were already together. Long enough that we’d done away with condoms and were relying on my birth control pill. Funny thing about that. When you’re up all night in the hospital and worrying about your mom, the last thing you think about is taking your daily pill.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. So, it is what it is. I got pregnant. Jordan showed himself for the ass that he was and had hidden for so long. Or maybe my threshold for asshole behavior had been larger before my mom’s accident. But I was pregnant and taking care of my mom—runnin
g her back and forth to specialists and trying to figure out benefits and all that—and two weeks after I had my son, Jordan just…bailed.”
Austin tilted his head. “But you didn’t. You stayed and took care of your mom and Wyatt.”
“Yeah. Of course I did.” My forehead wrinkled. “And despite being paralyzed, my mom helps a ton with Wyatt. We’re family. That’s what you do.”
“Jordan didn’t.” Austin spit his name out like an insult. “That asshole couldn’t hang because that’s the kind of man that he is. But not you. You take care of your mom and work two jobs to keep your head above water. And that’s pretty fucking amazing if you ask me.”
I ducked my head as a wave of heat burned my cheeks. It felt weird to accept praise for something like that. In my mind there hadn’t been another option. It’d never even occurred to me to compare. I just chalked Jordan up to being the asshole that he was and kept on swimming against the current of bills and doctor appointments and sadness, trying like hell to keep our heads above water.
“I guess.”
“Don’t diminish it. You stepped up. That says a lot. You kinda remind me of my Aunt Wendy.”
I reminded him of his aunt? That was…disconcerting. “That’s…nice?”
Austin snorted at the horror that must’ve been painted all over my face. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t have an Oedipal complex or whatever the hell it’s called. You don’t look like Wendy, and I don’t want to sleep with my fucking aunt. Shit.”
“Whew.” I clutched at my heart and sagged, overexaggerating how relieved I felt.
“Screw you,” Austin laughed. “I just meant that you’re the kinda woman who stepped up in the face of tragedy like my aunt did, and that’s pretty fucking awesome.”
I flushed as he repeated his compliment. It sounded like he thought the world of his aunt. I was touched that he’d put me in the same class.
“My turn to share my sad secret pain?”
“If you want.” I hitched a shoulder. “You don’t have to.”
“No, a deal’s a deal.” Austin grabbed his shot glass and downed the drink in one gulp. I watched as his throat worked with his swallow and couldn’t help it when my gaze wandered south to his gleaming muscles and the tattoos etched in his skin. God, he was built. All firm muscles with definition that I’d never seen outside of a magazine before. Only hours before I’d traced the lines of his abs with my tongue. And then I’d kissed my way down his happy trail until I found the object of my happiness. I’d made this big, strong man squirm using only my hands and mouth.
Austin cleared his throat. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”
My face burned for a second time as I realized that he’d caught me daydreaming. I lifted my eyes to meet his and shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, you’re just a little distracting, being all you.”
Austin’s lips curved with a smug little smile. “We can do something about that if you want.”
“Hey, a deal’s a deal. No reneging now. I spilled my guts, now it’s your turn.”
“Okay, okay. Do you need me to put a shirt on, so you don’t get all distracted again?”
I sighed. “I think I can contain myself. Barely. But you better talk fast.”
16
Austin
I shifted on the plush recliner, uncomfortable despite the luxurious material. I hadn’t talked about my father in forever. I refused to answer journalist’s questions about him—instead letting them piece together “facts” from old newspaper articles. No amount of words could capture my feelings about my parents, especially my father.
Rachel stared back at me expectantly. Christ, why did I think this was a good idea? I was tempted to come up with some bullshit story about some hidden pain, but after how she’d just bared her soul to me, I couldn’t disrespect her like that.
I cleared my throat roughly and avoided her soft eyes when I finally spoke. “My dad was granted parole yesterday. He’ll be out on the streets in two months’ time.”
“I didn’t realize that your dad was in jail. Sorry. That must’ve been hard, but at least he’ll be home with you guys soon.”
I stared at her in bewilderment. “I don’t want him anywhere near me or my brothers. He killed my mom..”
“Oh my God, Austin. He killed your mom?”
“Welcome to my nightmare.” I rubbed the back of my neck then saw Rachel’s amazed expression out of the corner of my eye. “You didn’t know about my mom? Really? The paparazzi bring it up every time they find me. It’s like they’re trying to bait me to get me to swing on them or something.”
“I mean, I knew you were a local celebrity, I saw your Urban Channel special, and skimmed one of your magazine layouts, but I don’t read every word written about you. I live with a three-year-old, my paralyzed mother, and work two jobs—I don’t have that kinda free time.”
“Huh.” It was then that it hit me what a self-important asshole I’d turned into. Did I really expect that everyone I met knew my life story? Like I was a rock star or something? I build custom motorcycles for rich bastards who could afford my fees and had had a few articles written about me. When did I turn into such a douche? “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry about your mom. Is that why your aunt raised you and your brothers? See, I remembered that much.” She shrugged as she raised her palms like she needed forgiveness for not knowing my life story.
Christ. I was an ass. “Yeah. My mom’s sister, our Aunt Wendy, took us in after Dad beat my mom and then shot her. It was pretty fucked up.”
“Holy shit. I can’t even… There aren’t words, Austin. That’s so, so horrible.” Rachel shook her head. “I’m so sorry you lost her.”
“That he killed her you mean.”
“Yeah. That too.”
An awkward silence fell between us, broken only by the heavy panting of Blue from his corner dog bed.
“So, your aunt went from being a single woman to taking care of four boys? That’s amazing.”
“She’s an amazing woman. Like someone else I know.” I smiled at Rachel and tipped my head. She flushed and looked down at her lap. “Wendy was a single mother herself at the time. My cousin, Sabrina, wasn’t even one yet, I think. Wendy went from taking care of a baby all by herself to having five children. But she kept us all together. And that couldn’t have been easy. My brothers were inconsolable for weeks—months after.”
If I closed my eyes, I could still hear my mom’s pleas, the smack of his fist hitting her, that gasping choked sound she made just before she died. Christ. Tears burned the back of my eyes. And Nathan. His screams that night. His sobs every night after for weeks, months. My throat grew thick with unshed tears. This, this right here, was why I refused to talk about my mom in interviews. I hated being weak.
And I hated the knowledge that I didn’t do a fucking thing to stop him that night.
“Austin. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t imagine going through all that so young.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s pretty amazing what you’ve been able to build for your family. People with everything going for them—all the support in the world—aren’t able to build a thriving business like you have. You’re the amazing one.”
Her words burned like acid in my stomach. “I’m not amazing. People who step up are the amazing ones. Like my Aunt Wendy. And you. I grabbed my brothers and hid when my dad started hitting my mom. I didn’t do a fucking thing. I hid. It’s my fault she’s dead.”
“Oh my God, Austin. No.” Rachel sprang from her chair to kneel at my feet. Grabbing my cold hands in hers, she peered earnestly into my eyes. “Don’t say that. There’s no way that’s true. I bet the night she died wasn’t the first time he hit her. That kind of crap builds. And you were a child. There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it. Your mother’s death is on your father and only your father. He’s the one who took her from you and your brothers.”
I shook my head. She didn’t know. She didn’t live twenty-five years with this burni
ng her soul. Fuck.
“Please, Austin, don’t do this to yourself. And you did do something. You took your little brothers and hid—you protected them. Don’t you deserve credit for keeping them safe that night?” She peered into my intractable face then sat back on her heels with a sigh. “What about your brother, Nathan? You said he was there, too, right? Did he do anything to stop your father?”
I frowned. “Are you fucking kidding me? Nathan was six. What could he do to stop our dad?”
“And how old were you?”
“That’s different. I’m the older brother. It’s my job to—”
“Answer the question.” Rachel interjected. “How old were you?”
I sighed. “Eight. I was eight.”
“How can you defend Nathan for being a child, and in the same breath hold yourself responsible when you were only two years older? How is that fair, Austin?”
I just shook my head. She didn’t get it.
“Here.” She whipped out her cell phone, her finger tapping onto the screen until she finally held it up for me to see. A ridiculously cute little boy smiled mischievously up from the screen. With his pencil straight brown hair and bright Crayola blue eyes, it was undeniable who he belonged to. “So, in five years, it would be his fault if he didn’t get between me and an abusive boyfriend? Would you blame him too?”
My heart dropped. The thought of Rachel and this cute little boy being in that same situation had bile burning the back of my throat. “No. Never.”
“Then give yourself a break, okay? You were eight. Eight. It was your parents’ responsibility to protect you. You went above and beyond by taking care of your brothers. Don’t take the weight of your mother’s death onto your shoulders. You don’t deserve that. And eight-year-old Austin really doesn’t deserve that weight either. Promise me you’ll think about it?”
I didn’t know if I believed what she was saying. But still I nodded in agreement. I’d think about it.
I had a feeling there’d be a couple things I couldn’t stop thinking about after this weekend.
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