All In (Miami Stories Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  "I thought it was gonna be Crazy Love," he said.

  I smiled. "It is Crazy Love," I said. "But there are other songs on the album, too."

  "I know, but I want to hear that one."

  "Why?" I asked, looking confused even though I wasn't.

  He stalked closer, squinting his eyes at me as if daring me not to know why.

  I giggled under his scrutiny. "It's track three. It's next," I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest and an effort to keep from squirming.

  "What's track three?" he asked.

  "Crazy Love."

  "Do you remember what's special about it?"

  I nodded. "It's the song we danced to at Abigail's wedding."

  He came close to me, staring down at me with a hungry expression. I swallowed hard. I wanted him to take me right there, cover me with his kiss, but the last thing I wanted was for him to start bleeding while I was trying to pay attention to other things.

  "Let me check on your cut real quick," I said, patting the chair next to me.

  He sighed, but he obeyed, sitting in the chair. "It's fine," he assured me again.

  It didn't look fine to me. From what I could tell, it was on the verge of needing stitches. It was about a quarter inch long and equally as deep. It was close to his hairline and a little lower than his eyebrow, and I stared at it feeling terrible that it had happened with one of my students.

  "I wish you would've had Michelle look at this," I said. "She's a nurse, you know."

  "I do know," he said teasing me.

  "But I have a fine nurse right here."

  "I'm serious. It maybe could've used a stitch or two."

  "It's really okay," he said. "I washed it with that tea tree soap. Just put a band-aid on it. Make it tight so it'll close back up."

  "No pressure," I said with shaking hands as I opened the bandage.

  I set the wrapper aside, looking at the cut again and making a plan of action. There was a tiny drip of blood under the cut, and I dabbed it with the antiseptic wipe. I stood so close to him that my legs were touching his, and he rested his palm on the back of my thigh. It was warm and big, and it caused all sorts of sensations to happen inside me.

  "I love you," I said.

  "What?" he asked, glancing at me like he didn't hear me.

  "I'm sorry. It's just that I was thinking about you getting hurt and then your hand on the back of my leg, and I just…"

  "What did you say?"

  "Nothing."

  "Say it," he said, looking straight at me as he gripped me tighter.

  The song started.

  It had no intro at all… it just started with the first words and the soft, subtle music kicked in instantly…

  I can hear her heart beat from a thousand miles.

  Yeah, the heavens open every time she smiles.

  And when I come to her that's where I belong.

  Yet I'm running to her like a river's song.

  We stared at each other during the whole first verse. My heart was pounding as I stared into his dark blue, stormy eyes. There was a band-aid shakily dangling from my fingertip, but I didn't even notice it.

  "Put the band-aid on my face," he said impassively.

  "What?"

  He turned to the side. "Get it on there, Sidney, so I can hold you."

  I was shaking as I did it. The beautiful chorus, singing about 'crazy love' was a soundtrack in the background as I delicately administered the bandage.

  "Okay," I whispered. "Done."

  Quick as a wink, Lance stood from his chair, causing me to gasp as he took me into his strong arms. He pulled me to him, holding me close as we began to sway. I felt like I could melt—like I was in actual danger of turning into hot liquid right there in his arms. I could not get enough him. I wanted more. I clung to him for dear life as we moved to the gentle rhythm of the song.

  "Say it, my sweet love," he said.

  His mouth was close to my ear, making it nearly impossible for me to take in the words he was saying.

  "Say what?" I asked since I was relatively sure he just asked me to say something.

  "Tell me you love me, Sidney."

  His request sent shaky, hot, liquid lightning through my stomach.

  "I do," I said nervously.

  We held onto each other with unrelenting but gentle pressure as we swayed.

  "Say the words," he said in a pleading tone—holding me, moving with me.

  I reached up, running my fingers through the hair on the back of his head—gripping onto him and causing a sound of approval to come deep from his chest.

  "I love you, Lance."

  He kissed me.

  He crushed my mouth with his, just like I wanted, opening to me instantly. He kissed me long and good—a lasting caress where our mouths moved and danced to the slow sultry music. It was full of tender passion, sweet barely-restrained desire. We didn't notice when the song ended. Nor did we notice when the following song ended. By the time we broke contact, side one of the record had finished, and all that could be heard was the slight popping sound of the needle moving along the middle of the record.

  We stood in the middle of his living room, still holding each other tightly. Both of us struggled to regulate our breathing. It was a beautiful feeling—our bodies pressed against each other while our lungs rose and fell.

  "My precious Sidney, my love, my fate."

  I smiled against his chest.

  "Guess what?" he said.

  "What?"

  "I love you too."

  Chapter 20

  Jonah's house was not at all what I expected. It made sense that an artist such as himself would live in a cool, eclectic, old-school beach house, but I assumed (when he said he wanted to have all of us over for a viewing party) that it would be some kind of big spread.

  It wasn't.

  It wasn't big at all.

  It was the opposite of big.

  He lived in a tiny, square, stucco beach house that was in a neighborhood full of other colorful homes. I had never seen anything like it. I figured you must have to pass some kind of coolness test to buy a house there. Actually, I felt like I needed to pass a coolness test just to park on the street and walk to Jonah's house. There were hipsters everywhere—tattoos, mustaches, and hi-waisted shorts on every corner.

  The house itself was definitely well under a thousand square feet. My condo was right under a thousand, and it seemed huge compared to Jonah's place. Of course, he had art everywhere—paintings, and figures, and tons of stuff to look at—colorful objects on every surface.

  Dale and the musicians had come, and some of them had brought their significant others. Ten or twelve of us were crammed into Jonah's tiny living room, and his air conditioner wasn't quite doing the trick. All of us had a sheen of sweat on our faces. Most of the guys had already given Jonah a hard time about getting an extra window unit.

  But, in spite of the heat and being cramped inside there, we were having a good time. Everyone was thrilled to see the finished product, and we were all in good moods, laughing and joking with each other.

  The only thing that was missing was Lance.

  He got to see some of the commercial during the process, but he hadn't seen the finished product, and we were waiting for him to do the big reveal. He had been in Orlando all day, helping with the transfer of a dolphin at SeaWorld. He would be here soon, though. I had talked to him on my way over, and I knew he was close.

  "Where's Lance?" Chris asked, reading my mind.

  "He had to go to Orlando to help move Shamu from one tank to another over at SeaWorld," Jonah said. "I guess his company's got a big tanker truck they had to use."

  "Daaang," Trevor said. "A tanker truck? He's big time."

  "What, you thought he just sold goldfish or something?" Jonah asked, teasing him. "How do you think he paid me the big bucks to do his commercial?"

  My heart sped up. I wanted to say something—tell them it was actually a dolphin he was transporting or clue t
hem in on just how big his company was. But I kept quiet. I was too nervous to say anything. They were all just talking a bunch of trash, anyway, and I didn't want to cut in with my two-cents because then it would've been obvious that I was madly in love with him. It would have been obvious that we were seeing each other.

  As far as I knew, none of them knew that. And, while I wanted to tell them, I couldn't think of a way to do it without sounding like a big goofball. So, I held my tongue.

  They had been talking about Lance's business the whole time that I was trying to figure out a way to tell them he was my boyfriend, and I only tuned in to the conversation when Dustin said, "We shoulda just watched it at his place. I bet he's got real chairs and an actual TV." He was still giving Jonah a good-natured hard time. Not only was it hot and crowded, but we were also planning on watching the big commercial on his computer monitor.

  "Hey, I choose not to have a TV," Jonah said. "How do you think I get so much done?"

  "Lance gets stuff done, too," Dale said, chiming in. "But I can assure you, he's got a television. I've been to his house. I watched a football game over there one time, and it was like I was on the field with the players. I think they were seriously life-size."

  "Baller!" Dustin said. "I guess you've pretty much arrived when you're the guy they call into move Shamu."

  "Speak of the devil," Jonah said motioning toward his front window.

  Dale turned to peer out of the window. "He's here? Awesome. Let's get this show on the road."

  "Chill, Dale," Jonah said. "It's less than a minute long. I'm not gonna start it the second he walks in the door. I'm going give him a minute to acclimate so he can wrap his head around this masterpiece."

  Dale flopped his head on the back of the couch dramatically, sighing as if to show how hot he was. "I am so acclimated already," he said, causing us to laugh.

  Jonah opened the door, and Lance stepped inside. He scanned the room smiling and looking only slightly surprised that we were all packed in there like sardines.

  "Hello everyone," he said with a little wave. "Sorry I'm late."

  Everyone called out to him at the same time, saying various funny things and welcoming him to the party. We had already found our places along the edge of the room. There was only one couch, and several people were piled onto it—five, actually—way more than it was meant to hold. Several other people were sitting on the floor, and a couple were on end tables, or footstools, or whatever they could find.

  Jonah had insisted that, as the star of the commercial, I sat in a place of honor. I got the only real chair in the room. It was a small armchair on the far side of the couch, which put me on the opposite side of the room from where Lance was standing by the door. He had jeans and his black work polo, and I felt dizzy with anticipation as I waited for him to notice me.

  "I like your place," Lance said, looking around. He scanned the room, and smiled when his eyes locked on mine.

  "We were just saying how we shoulda done this at your place," Dustin said, causing Lance to look at him.

  "You were saying that," Jonah said.

  "I was saying it too," Dale added.

  Everyone was happy to be there. The guys were just messing with Jonah, and he knew it.

  "Why don't you come take my seat," Trevor said, talking to Lance. He was sitting on a small, padded footstool, which, aside from mine, was probably the most comfortable seat in the house.

  Trevor was already in the process of standing up when Lance said, "That's all right. I'll just sit over here with my lady."

  He crossed the room, careful not to bump into anyone or trip over their legs. I couldn't help but notice that a few of the guys turned to look at me curiously as if wondering if I was 'the lady' Lance was referring to.

  I stood up when he got close to me, and he smiled and leaned in to me. In one swift motion, he shifted us both, trading places with me so that he could sit in the chair. He pulled me onto his lap, holding me around the waist with his arms around me like a seatbelt. I giggled at how quickly he did it, and he smiled at me before stretching up to kiss my cheek again.

  "Hi," I said, looking straight at him.

  "Hi," he said.

  He was so rugged and handsome. There was no other place in the world I would rather be than right there in his arms, on his lap. I felt warmth starting at the pit of my stomach and spreading through my body, warmth that had nothing to do with how hot it was in the room.

  "Are y'all seeing each other?" Jonah asked.

  "Well, I sure hope so," Dale said.

  "Y'all didn't know Sidney was my lady?" Lance asked casually as he adjusted in the chair and shifted me around where we'd both be more comfortable. I stood up a little, trying to take a little weight off of him, but he quickly pulled me back onto his lap clamping onto me with his big arms. "I was just getting comfortable," he said quietly to me before turning to look at everyone else.

  Everyone in the entire room was looking straight at us.

  "Were y'all seeing each other when we recorded?" Dale asked.

  "Yes," Lance said. He looked at me. "I don't know if you were sitting on my lap back then."

  "We weren't quiet lap-sitting," I agreed with a little smile.

  I half-expected Trevor to mention that I told him I was seeing a guy named Nick, but he didn't… he just regarded us with an expression that said he was a little confused.

  "She might have mentioned seeing someone else when she wasn't sure if we were telling everybody we were together," Lance said, talking to no one in particular but especially to Trevor.

  "I was gonna say…" Jonah said. "I didn't want to mention it, I but told her I wanted to take her out the first day we met, and she told me she was seeing someone from some other city—Cutler Bay, maybe."

  I looked at Lance who regarded me with a silly, wide-eyed smirk as if to say how many of these guys asked you out?

  I laughed and leaned into him as I regarded everyone else. "It was new back then," I explained, since they were all still looking at us. "I was nervous. I didn't know if I should tell everyone I was dating the boss."

  "That woulda got us to leave you alone more than saying it was some guy from Cutler Bay," Dustin said.

  Lance's smirk grew more pronounced, and I giggled as I looked at him. "Dustin did not even ask me out," I said. "I don't know what he's talking about."

  "I wanted to," Dustin said, "But Jonah told me you were with somebody."

  "Y'all need to leave Sidney alone," Dale's wife said from the other end of the couch. "You're gonna get yourselves in trouble with the boss if you're not careful."

  "Amen," Lance said, causing everyone to laugh.

  "All right, all right," Jonah stepped to the center of the room, clasping his hands comfortably in front of his body in the way of someone who was about to make a speech. "Let me just say that I had an absolute blast working on this project. You are all amazing musicians, so I knew you were gonna knock it out of the park on the sound recording, but then you stepped it up for me, becoming the rock stars that I really needed you to be to make it such a cool video." He paused and looked at Lance (which meant he was basically looking at me since I was on Lance's lap). "It's really rare in that someone comes to me with a unique, funny vision like this, and even more rare that they give me artistic freedom with it. Thank you for that. It was an absolute pleasure making this thing."

  "I appreciate your hard work on it," Lance said. "All of you. I'm excited to see it."

  Jonah smiled. "Well, then, it's without further ado that I present to you… Barracuda!"

  I was so thankful for Lance's steadying arms around me because I was shaking with nerves as he moved to start the commercial. Jonah switched off the light and clicked a button on his computer. The screen went black for a few seconds, and then it began.

  I grinned at the so-very-familiar guitar intro.

  And then I came in on vocals.

  It was not me.

  I mean, it was me… but at the same time, it
wasn't. The girl in the video was confident and cool, and best of all, she had a pretty okay voice—it actually sounded good. The whole thing sounded and looked really great—polished and well produced.

  It was one of the funniest ideas for a commercial I had ever seen, and I didn't just like it because I was in it. In fact, like I said, I didn't even really think of that girl as me. It was just a role that I had been willing to play—one that I had fallen backward into.

  I blinked as the logo for the store flashed across the screen at the end. It faded to black, and everyone began clapping at once.

  "Again!" Dale said.

  "Yeah, let's see it again!" Trevor agreed. "Did y'all see that close-up of me?"

  "You looked like David Bowie," Chris said.

  "More like Jim Bowie," Dale teased.

  "Who's Jim Bowie?" Trevor asked in a tone like he thought he should be offended but wasn't sure.

  Dale just laughed and shook his head.

  "Y'all want to see it again?" Jonah asked.

  Everyone was in the process of agreeing that they did, in fact, want to see it again when Lance tugged at my waist. He squeezed me in two, tiny jerking motions where I knew he was trying to get my attention. I turned to him, my face only inches from his. I stared into his sparkling blue eyes and he smiled.

  "That’s my girlfriend singin' that song," he said.

  "Did you like it?"

  He didn't answer. He just squinted at me for asking such a thing. I smiled, and he stretched up and kissed my smiling lips.

  "Y'all ready?" Jonah asked. His comment was directed at us since we were the only ones not paying attention.

  "We're ready," I said, smiling straight at Lance.

  I snuck one last kiss in before turning to watch it again.

  Epilogue

  A year later

  Lance asked me to marry him that summer, and we had the wedding in the fall. It was now May again, and I could not fathom how much my life had changed in a year.

  The commercial had been a big hit.

  Everyone loved the part where it said 'I bet they swim faster than me', and there were countless internet memes about it. I still didn’t quite see myself as the same girl who did that commercial, nor did I make singing in front of people a habit, but it had been an extremely fun, life-changing event that I wouldn't trade for the world. I sang a little bit for Lance when he asked me to, and that was enough for me.