Never Tied Down (The Never Duet Book 2)

by Anie Michaels

  “Was that a bad one?” he asked, but I could tell he already knew the answer. I nodded.

  “Is she having an asthma attack?” Patrick asked, and I could hear the genuine concern in his voice. I wanted to curl into a ball and go to sleep. I wanted to simply disappear.

  “Panic attack,” Riot answered for me. I was grateful he was taking control, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about all my friends knowing my weakness.

  “Does this happen often?” That question came from Ella and she sounded like she was near tears.

  “I’m not really sure. She has triggers. This is the second one I’ve seen her have this month.”

  “Oh, God.” That was Ella again, but her voice was muffled. I couldn’t see her, but I imagined her hand over her mouth. I wanted to cry.

  “Just give us a minute,” Riot said to everyone, but then his face was in front of mine again. “I’m gonna pick you up and take you in the bathroom, okay?”

  I nodded and felt his arm slip under my knees while the other came to my back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest as he carried me through the house and up the stairs to our room. He continued into the bathroom and gently set me down on the counter. I gripped the edge, trying to keep my balance as he let me go. His hands came to my shoulders and he leaned down so I could see him.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I managed.

  He stood up and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, bringing me into him, gently rubbing his hands up and down my back. I wasn’t having a hard time breathing anymore, but my throat still felt raw and my heart was still pounding. I let his hands soothe me and we stayed that way in that bathroom for a while.

  Eventually he pulled away and found a washcloth. I watched as he ran the faucet, wet the washcloth, came to me and wiped it gently over my forehead and cheeks. I let him take care of me, let him help, mostly because I knew he needed it, but partly because I needed it too. My eyes stayed on his face, but he was concentrating on making sure I was cool and dry.

  “You’re flushed,” he said softly. “Are you sure it’s over?”

  I shrugged. “I think so. I’m feeling a little better. Just tired now and my throat is dry.”

  “Do you want to go to bed? I could go get you some more water.”

  I thought about his question, and bed seemed like a good place to be at that moment. The idea of slipping into our plush, comfortable bed, wrapping myself up in the fluffy comforter and Riot’s arms seemed like the smartest step I could make. But then I thought about Ella’s voice, how she and Megan sounded so concerned, and I didn’t want to disappear. I didn’t really want to face them, to talk to them about what I’d just been through, but I cared too much about them to let them come to their own conclusions. I shook my head at him and he nodded, touching his lips to my forehead again.

  After a few minutes, when I’d felt more like myself, I took in another deep breath and then pushed it out slowly.

  “I think I have to go back out there.”

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said, protective Riot making an appearance.

  “I know,” I said, bringing my hand up to cup his cheek, “but I do want to. I want to go back out there and show them that I’m okay. And I want to try and play Monopoly like a normal person.”

  “If you start to feel stressed out at all, or like you’re going to panic again, I want you to tell me, and we’ll come back in here. Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He held my gaze for a moment longer, but then backed away and helped me hop down from the counter.

  When I came back into the kitchen both Ella and Megan stood up straighter and both their men flanked their sides. I felt Riot at my side as well, and then he laced his fingers through mine.

  “I’m sorry about that.” I took in a deep breath then pushed it out. “Ever since Marcus passed, sometimes when someone says his name, or brings him up, or something that reminds me of him, it makes me panic. It usually happens when I least expect it, and the only thing I can do is ride it out, try to keep breathing through it. I’m really sorry if I scared you, but I’m okay.”

  “How can we help?” Ella asked immediately.

  “Forget it happened?” I replied, giving a weak laugh. She wasn’t amused.

  “Seriously, Kalli.”

  I shrugged. “There’s really nothing to do. Riot reminds me to breathe, breathes with me, sometimes he counts. But besides that, try not to tiptoe around me. The only way it gets easier is to get through it. So don’t treat me any differently.”

  “Riot said you have triggers,” Megan said.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Marcus and I played Monopoly almost every night.” I felt Riot’s lips on the top of my head, and I’d never needed a kiss more than I needed that one.

  “Oh, Kalli,” Ella whispered, her hand coming to cover her mouth as Porter turned her into his arms.

  “We didn’t know,” Megan whispered, Patrick wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

  “No, I know, and this is what I didn’t want,” I said, tears starting to form in my eyes, stinging and burning. “I don’t want you guys to feel like I’m fragile, because I’m not. I can handle all this, I can handle the panic and the sadness and the emptiness, because I know it’s only a fraction of my life. Yes, I miss Marcus, and no, nothing will ever replace him, and sometimes the loss of him overcomes me, but I’m okay.”

  My friends seemed stunned by my declaration, but I didn’t want to be the poor emotional friend. I needed them to look at me like they had before his death, before they saw me crumble.

  “So, I need a shot of vodka and I call the thimble.”

  It took a little while for my friends to relax after I’d basically yelled at them that I was emotionally stable. But the shots Porter and Patrick brought to the table helped immensely. We all gathered around their big kitchen table and began playing Monopoly. I wanted to make it through the game, or at least last as long as everyone else, without having a breakdown. And surprisingly, actually playing the game didn’t send me into a spiral of depression or anxiety.

  On my first roll of the dice, when I’d landed on the railroad, it was almost as if Marcus had rolled the dice for me, leading me to my old comfortable routine. Whenever I used to play with him I’d buy all the railroads, never trying to buy properties. I recognized that strategy for what it was. It was the same way I’d coped with life: never put down roots, have a soft spot to land wherever I went, but heaven forbid I invest in anyone else, or myself for that matter. So, when I landed on the railroad, I made the decision not to buy it. No one really noticed how big of a decision it was for me, but I knew. It was symbolic of how my life had changed in the last few months, how it was a representation of how my life had changed since Riot came into it.

  Later, when I bankrupted everyone with my purchase of Boardwalk and Park Place, as I watched all of my friends and the love of my life slowly lose all their money and curse my name, I realized I’d been playing the game all wrong my whole life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Viewpoint

  Riot

  “See, this is why I love road trips.”

  I turned my head to see Kalli sitting in the passenger seat of our rental car, sunglasses on, holding a bottle of Diet Coke in one hand and a package of mini chocolate donuts in the other.

  Fuck if I didn’t love her.

  “You love road trips because you can eat crap and not feel guilty about it?” I gave her my sexiest smile.

  “Correct! I love road trips because every time you stop to get gas, it’s like a wonderland of crap and anything you could possibly think of that you would never regularly buy are the only things available. You’re hungry? Eat a bag of dehydrated potato bits covered in flavored dust that contains ingredients so bad for you, even the government has given up on regulating it. Oh, you’re not hungry? Doesn’t matter. The crap you ate earlier tricks your stomach into thinking you are, so grab those
pastries that are so full of preservatives they’d survive a nuclear apocalypse.”

  “So, what you’re telling me is that you want me to pull over at the next exit with a gas station?”

  She laughed and I felt it in my whole body. My heart skidded to a stop, then thundered back to life. My fingers tingled with the need to touch her. My dick hardened in my jeans. Even my arms wanted to wrap around her at the sound of her unrestrained laughter. When she was done laughing, she leaned over the console and kissed my cheek. I wanted to pull over and show her what kind of kiss I needed. But instead I reached for her hand and held it in my lap as I continued down the highway.

  When planning our trip to Oregon for Thanksgiving, we decided to fly up, but rent a car and drive back, taking Highway 101 down the coast, planning to stop at every viewpoint we came across. So far we’d managed to get quite a few selfies with the Pacific Ocean behind us. A few times there’d been other people admiring the view who offered to take the photo for us, but most of the time it was only the two of us, and I preferred it that way.

  I preferred to have Kalli in front of me, facing away, my arms around her waist, the scent of her shampoo mixing with the scent of the ocean, and everything important to me within my grasp.

  When we weren’t admiring the beauty of the west coast, or indulging in convenience store fare, Kalli was bound and determined to keep us entertained with a plethora of road trip games. This was day two of games and I’d given up trying to win because she was much better at spotting letters in license plates and road signs, what with all the driving I was doing.

  “Okay, I have something better for us to do,” she said, her thumb moving on the screen of her phone. “I found this list of 100 Things You Should Know About Your Significant Other.” She looked at me with another brilliant smile. “Are you my significant other?”

  “You better fucking believe it,” I said, bringing her hand to my mouth and kissing her knuckles. I caught her blushing and I wanted so badly to pull over again so I could make her whole body turn that same color.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to pretend as though my words hadn’t affected her. “I’ll ask you a question and then after you answer, I’ll tell you my answer. They look pretty run-of-the-mill.”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  “Favorite color?”

  “Orange.”

  “I’ve never seen you wear orange.” Her tone was accusatory, as though I’d lie about my favorite color.

  “So?”

  “So how can it be your favorite color if you don’t own any clothes that color?”

  “I didn’t realize I had to advertise my favorite color in my wardrobe.”

  “My favorite color is purple. Half the shirts I own are purple.” I thought about her statement, and she was right; she did wear a lot of purple. The color looked great against her pale skin and straw-colored hair. “If I was judging by your wardrobe, I’d think your favorite color was blue.”

  “I look good in blue,” I said, shrugging.

  “You do. Although,” she said, leaning back so she could take more of me in, “You have the right coloring to do orange. Not many guys can pull orange off. But your skin is tan enough and your hair is dark enough. I’ll get you an orange shirt. Don’t worry.”

  “Crisis averted,” I said with a smile as I checked my blind spot and switched lanes.

  “Dogs or cats?”

  “Dogs.”

  “Agreed. Summer or winter?”

  “Uh, summer in the north, winter in the south.”

  “Agreed,” she said, her voice rising an octave, as if our agreement on these trivial questions was proof of the fact we were meant to be.

  “City or country?”

  “That’s not really a great question. Ideally, I’d like to live close to a city, but on the outskirts. But not so far out in the country it’s going to take me thirty minutes to get to a grocery store.”

  “Hmm. Good point. I think I’d like to live in the city until I have kids, but then move to the suburbs.”

  “Kids?” This was the first she’d ever mentioned having kids of her own. “You think you want to have kids?” I glanced over at her and suddenly she looked nervous, like she’d stumbled into some sort of relationship quicksand. I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand. “Don’t freak out, just answer honestly. You can’t give me a wrong answer unless it’s a dishonest one.”

  It took her a moment, but she finally spoke.

  “There was a time in my life where I thought kids weren’t really an option for me. You know how I was: I never wanted to be with someone long enough to get to a third date, let alone have kids with them. I thought, with Marcus, it would be too disruptive or too difficult. So I kind of accepted that kids wouldn’t be a part of my future. But I guess, in the last month or so, kids have become a reality again.”

  Fuck but I loved her.

  “So how many kids do you think you’d like?” I asked gently, not wanting to freak her out by having a serious relationship conversation over Cheetos and Diet Coke.

  “Well, I mean, I guess the smart thing would be to start with one and see how it goes from there, right?”

  “Like with dogs?” I asked, laughing. Luckily, she laughed too.

  “Yeah.” Her laughter tapered off and then she asked, “How do you feel about kids?”

  “I’d love to have kids with you, Kal.”

  “That’s really sweet, Ri,” she said shyly. “But how do you feel about kids in general? How did you feel about them before you met me?”

  This time it was I who shrugged. “I hadn’t thought too much about it. Kids were just always a part of my future. It was usually a distant, hazy future, but they were there.”

  “How distant is it now?” Her voice was still painfully shy and I could almost feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.

  “The vision is becoming clearer every day.”

  She paused but then asked, “Have you ever had a near-death experience?”

  “Well that escalated quickly.” I laughed. “And no, I never have. You?”

  “Thankfully, no.” I saw her thumb move over her phone out of the corner of my eye, but then I heard her say excitedly, “Viewpoint!”

  Sure enough there was another viewpoint one mile up the road. As we pulled off the highway and onto a glorified shoulder with a few parking spaces, I noticed a lot of the lookout points in Oregon and Northern California were abundant with trees, but the farther south we headed, the dryer and more brown everything became. This viewpoint was drastically different from the one we’d first met at back in Seattle so many months ago.

  We met at the front of the car and she took the hand I held out for her. We walked toward the railing and she leaned into my side, resting her free hand over my heart. We watched for a few minutes as the waves crashed onto the rocks below. Sometimes my eyes wandered out to the horizon, like they had my whole life, straining to see as far as I possibly could. I don’t know what I thought would magically appear at that imaginary line where water met sky, but sometimes I thought if I looked long enough I’d see something spectacular—like the edge of the earth or something.

  We were still a few hours outside of LA and the sun was getting lower in the sky, inching toward the water, coloring the horizon the oranges and reds I loved to look at. I could smell the flowery scent of Kalli’s shampoo, feel her soft curves pressed along the side of my body, and for as far as I could see was blue water with the shiny reflection of the sunset. I couldn’t remember a moment more perfect than that one. It was remarkable.

  Gripping Kalli’s chin between my thumb and forefinger, I angled her face toward me and then feathered my lips across hers. She melted into the kiss, turning her whole body into mine, moving her hand up my chest to grip my shoulder. I pressed our still linked hands into the small of her back and swept my tongue into her mouth.

  Her hair was up in a messy knot atop her head, she was wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of leggings, she had no makeu
p on, and her mouth tasted slightly of chocolate donuts and Diet Coke. I loved her. More than anything in the world, I loved her.

  “I want a life with you, Kalli. I want this, us, forever.” My forehead was pressed against hers, our lips still barely touching, and I could feel the grip she had on my shoulder tightening.

  “You’ve got me.” Her voice was a whisper, almost as though it hurt her to say the words. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  I moved my free hand up to her nape and gripped her there, using it for leverage as I covered her lips with mine, taking the kiss I so desperately needed at that moment. I needed to feel her, to feel like I had everything from her I could. My tongue took wide, deep, swipes through her mouth, and she met me at every pass, giving me exactly what I was looking for: reassurance. I wasn’t in this alone. I could give and give and give, without having to worry that she wouldn’t give right back.

  She let a moan slip into my mouth and it nearly undid me, and much like the first night we met at a viewpoint, I had to stop kissing her before I took it too far. I had to rein in my basic urges to push her onto the hood of our rental car and claim her right there, and instead I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and walked her to the passenger side of the car.

  Before she climbed in she turned and went up on her tiptoes, pressing her mouth against my ear.

  “One day, I’m going to get you to make love to me at a viewpoint.” She drew my earlobe into her mouth, biting gently, forcing my eyes to close as a wave of tremors rolled through my body.

  “Fuck, Kalli, you can’t say shit like that and then expect me to walk away,” I said, gripping her waist and pushing her against the frame of the car. My mouth went directly for her neck, sucking on her delicate skin until I heard a gasp, then gently kissing the same spot.

  “Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” she breathed. Her leg then came up and wrapped around my hip and I could feel the heat radiating out from between her legs through the thin fabric of her leggings. I couldn’t stop myself from pressing into her, showing her how turned on I was by her. She moaned again as I ground my erection against her, loving the way I could practically feel her melt against me.