Spin My Love

by Chantal Fernando

  I love Italian food, and he knows it. “Sounds good.”

  I unlock my car door and get in. I watch Tane do the same, and then follow his car to the restaurant. We park right next to each other, and he gets out first to open my door.

  “Thanks,” I say as I get out, close the door, and stand right in front of him. I look up into his handsome face as he places his hand on my lower back.

  “Come on,” he says with an amused smile when I don’t move.

  Why is he so … Tane-ish? I like everything about him, and I don’t even know why. Okay, maybe not everything, but still. It’s like I’m hanging onto my young image of him, and whenever his behaviour matches that image I fall deeper into his trap.

  My heart is being stubborn and won’t let him go. Or let him in, either.

  We get seated near the window, and then look over the menu. I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep my gaze down.

  “I’ll have the carbonara,” I tell him. “What are you going to get?”

  I look up to see his eyes on me and not the menu. I raise an eyebrow, but he just smiles. When the waitress arrives, he orders for the both of us.

  His phone buzzes, so he puts it on silent and then looks up at me. “I want to talk about us.”

  I instantly turn wary. “What about us? Everything is fine the way it is.”

  “You’re not even a little bit curious if there could be something more between us?” he asks, resting his fist against his cheek.

  Curious? “I don’t think being curious is a good enough reason to get my heart broken again, do you?” I ask, unable to hide the bite in my tone.

  “So you haven’t forgiven me,” he muses, nodding his head thoughtfully.

  “No, I have forgiven you. I just haven’t forgotten, nor will I ever,” I return, quieting when our drinks are brought to the table.

  “I don’t want you to forget, but I want another chance,” he says softly, watching me with my son’s eyes.

  I sigh. “Look, it’s really not even about that. The way things are? I want them to stay that way. We can’t go taking chances like this when we have Parker. We need to put him first.”

  “And you think that taking a chance with us will be bad for him?” he asks, staring me in the eyes. “What if it works out, Giselle?”

  “What if it doesn’t?” I counter.

  “I don’t want to live out the rest of my life wondering what if,” he says. “Potential failure isn’t a good enough reason not to try. What message does that send to Parker?”

  Manipulative bastard.

  “What about one date night a week? After a month, if you decide you don’t want to give me a chance, I’ll back off.”

  Do I want him to back off? I don’t think I know what I want.

  “Four dates?”

  “Four dates,” he replies, bobbing his head.

  “Okay, deal.”

  His satisfied smile makes me slightly nervous. Four dates with Tane Miller.

  I can survive that with my heart intact … right?

  Chapter Twelve

  Tane

  I ignore the call from my personal assistant, Julia, who has been ringing non-stop. I don’t know what she could possibly want to contact me for. I know it could be important¸ but I’ve taken leave. I’ve already said that I won’t be making any appearances or doing any club events until I’m ready to. I need this break. It’s the first time I’ve taken time off in years, and I know I’ve earned it.

  I’ve been mixing some beats at home, in the studio I’ve set up just for me. They remind me of why I got into this industry in the first place: my love for music.

  I love how a song can bring back memories. I love it even more when you connect to a song so much, you feel like that artist wrote it about you. I’ve been mixing samples of songs that remind me of Giselle with the beats of other tracks, blending the old and making something completely new.

  Kind of like us.

  I call it Spin My Love.

  I listen to music as I get dressed. Tonight is my first date night with Giselle, and I’m so fucking thrilled she agreed to give me a chance. As I drive to her house, I try to calm my nerves. I need to change her mind about me. I park my car in her driveway and walk to her door, which opens before I can even knock.

  “You’re on time,” she says in greeting, stepping out and locking it behind her. Her red dress is long-sleeved but short, showing off her shapely legs.

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her, my eyes greedily roaming over every inch of her.

  She turns and smiles shyly. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure where we were going so I hope I’m not overdressed.”

  She is definitely overdressed. I’d love to help her out with that and peel off every bit of clothing she’s wearing. She looks fucking edible.

  “You look perfect,” I tell her, putting my hand on the small of her back and leading her to my car. I open the door and stare at her creamy thighs as she slides in.

  “Enjoying yourself there?” she calls out dryly just before I close the door. I grin unrepentantly as I walk to the driver’s side and hop in.

  “Can you blame me?” I ask her as I start the car.

  She turns to me and flashes a smirk. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “I don’t like surprises,” she says.

  “You say you don’t like surprises, but you actually do,” I reply, gazing at her profile. “You just can’t stand the anticipation.”

  At least, that’s how I remember her.

  I take her silence as confirmation that I’m right. Nice to know that some things haven’t changed.

  “I can’t believe I’m on a date with you,” she finally says with a strange laugh, wringing her hands. I reach over and take one hand in mine, stopping her nervous gesture.

  “I’m still me, Giselle,” I whisper, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

  “You are and you aren’t,” she replies, staring down at our entwined hands. “Why did you turn to drugs? Was it because of your mum?”

  My hand grips the steering wheel. I hadn’t expected her to be so blunt. Tension builds, as I remain silent.

  “I guess that’s not really first-date material,” she backtracks.

  “We have a kid together, so I guess we have different rules.” I sigh. “I’ll tell you what, at the end of each date I’ll answer one question, and you can make it as brutal as you wish.”

  Giselle knew I handled it badly when my mother passed away, but she doesn’t know the truth of what happened with my dad.

  No one does, except my cousin Keiran.

  Keeping it bottled up inside wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I let it fester; let it grow into something I couldn’t control. That, mixed with my mother’s death and leaving behind everyone I cared about, meant I wasn’t in the best place.

  I turned to drugs because I was weak. Thinking back to those times makes me feel ashamed, but it is what it is. I fucked up, but I believe I’ve paid for everything.

  With interest.

  Now I want to claim my life back and move forward.

  She clears her throat. “I didn’t mean to be brutal …”

  “It’s okay, Giselle. I have nothing to hide from you. I guess I just don’t want you thinking even worse of me than you already do.”

  She doesn’t bother denying it.

  “I don’t know if four questions are going to answer everything I want to know,” she says.

  “I guess I’ll just have to take you on more dates then,” I reply with a winning grin. “Is Parker staying the night with Gage or should we pick him up on the way home?”

  “He’s staying the night,” Giselle replies. “Gage and Levi wanted to take him swimming tomorrow.”

  I’m thankful Gage and Levi have been there for Giselle and Parker, I really am. I’m still not sure if Levi is interested in her as more than a friend. I want to ask, but I’m almost scared of the answer.

/>   “I really miss him when he’s not around,” I admit, clearing my throat. “Thank you for letting him spend time at my house.”

  She’s quiet for a few moments before she answers. “He should have his dad in his life. I’m not going to take that away from him because you hurt me; I’m not that selfish. In the end what happened was completely between you and me and had nothing to do with him. It would be unfair to hold it against you, and it would punish Parker in the long-run. Ever since you found out you were a father you’ve been amazing, and Parker loves spending time with you.”

  I didn’t mean for our date to turn so serious so fast. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  She doesn’t reply. I decide to change the subject. “You going to get any more tattoos?”

  “Why, you don’t like them?” she replies, a little defensively.

  I raise my eyebrows. “I think they’re sexy as hell actually.”

  Something about a good girl covered in tattoos … it’s hot. Or maybe it’s just because it’s her. She could probably stop washing her hair and wear a potato sack and I’d still think she was irresistible.

  “Hmmmm,” she replies mysteriously, not looking my way.

  “What does that mean?” I ask her.

  “Nothing,” she says, before turning to face me. “Except I guess you must have liked them since you picked me out of all the women who wanted you that night.”

  That night.

  Both the worst and best night of my life.

  Worst because I hurt Giselle, and the best because we created Parker.

  I need a fucking do-over of that night. I’d be sober at that club, and I’d treat Giselle like she deserves. I’d talk with her, and recognise her after a little while, realising why I was drawn to her in the first place.

  Because she’s always been mine.

  How do I explain to her that she’s always been mine without coming across like an overbearing Neanderthal?

  Easy; I don’t. I keep my mouth shut and pray that she sees me and realizes how good we can be together.

  As we drive closer to where I’m taking her tonight, I hear her gasp. “No way.”

  I smile. “What, you don’t like this place?”

  I grab my phone and send a quick message to the waiter I hired, telling him I will be there in a minute.

  “You know I love this place,” she whispers, taking in the riverfront we used to play in when we were younger. “I haven’t been here in years.”

  I park the car and open the door for her. Taking her hand, I walk her down to the water, where a candle-lit dinner is set. I pull out her chair and gesture for her to sit.

  “How did you get all this stuff here?” she asks, glancing around curiously.

  “Magic,” I joke, taking my own seat.

  “It’s beautiful, Tane,” she says, smiling at me. “I have to say I am pleasantly surprised, but you didn’t need to do all this.”

  “I wanted to,” I reply, pouring the red wine for her.

  She picks up the glass and puts it to her lips. “Delicious.”

  “The food is from your favourite restaurant,” I tell her, as she lifts the silver tray. There are steaks with peppered mushroom sauce, baby potatoes, and grilled asparagus.

  She gasps. “From Revene? How the hell did you manage this?”

  I grin at her, loving the reactions playing out on her face. “I have my ways.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” she says, shaking her head at my evasion before frowning. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  She’s fucking adorable.

  “Yes, of course,” I say, swallowing my laughter.

  She takes a bite and moans, causing me to shift in my seat. As she wraps her mouth around her fork, I groan and look away.

  What I wouldn’t give to be that fork right now …

  When she finishes her mouthful she looks up at me. “So tell me how you got into DJing. I mean, I know you’ve always been into music, but how did you go from playing at school dances to sold-out music festivals?”

  “Well when I left Perth I went to stay with my cousin in London,” I say. My body tenses as I think about Keiran, but I don’t want to talk about that with her. Not now. Not when we’re enjoying ourselves. “He knew a lot of people and got me a weekend gig at a pretty good club in Soho. After a few months, a scout offered me a place in a local music festival’s line-up and I accepted. It went really well, and then the scouts kept coming.”

  It was weird, really. I’d been young as hell and all that attention and recognition had been a big shock. I definitely didn’t deal with it as well as I could have.

  “That must have been a massive change for you,” Giselle says.

  I nod. “Yeah it was pretty crazy. It was cool though, for a while. Things just got too hectic,” I say. I decide to change the subject so she won’t press further. “What about you? You always did say you wanted to be surrounded by books.”

  She laughs, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I seriously can’t get used to how stunning she is. She doesn’t even realise it. “I can’t explain it; I just love it. I don’t think anyone gets it, but it just makes me happy.”

  Her smile makes me smile. “That’s all that matters.” We finish our meal in comfortable silence.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Giselle

  The evening seems to end too quickly. It feels good to be able to ask him questions I’ve wondered about over the last few years. On our way home, I remind him about what he promised.

  “You said I get to ask you a question,” I say, wringing my hands.

  He groans. “I should have known you wouldn’t forget.”

  “Tane—”

  “Ask away,” he says, cutting me off from telling him he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to.

  My mind races. I have so many more questions I want to ask him, so many things I want to know. “After your mum passed away, you just left town. You hadn’t even told anyone you were leaving until the day you showed up to say bye. I want to know why.”

  He exhales heavily, staying quiet for a few tense seconds. “After Mum died, I was hurting. You know how much I loved her; she was everything to me. I was a mama’s boy, no point even trying to deny that.”

  I smile, because it was the truth. He loved his mum, and they had a great relationship, unlike what he had with his father. Their relationship was definitely strained.

  “Anyway, after she passed away, Darren gets piss-drunk and gets into one of his moods. I flip out on him as well because I was just tired of his shit. Then he tells me that I’m not even his son. He was yelling about how he had to spend his life raising a kid that wasn’t even his.”

  “No!” I gasp, his comment taking me off-guard. Darren wasn’t his father? “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t even know, really,” Tane admits. “He just said that he met my mum when she was already pregnant, fell in love with her and took me on for her. Well, Darren hadn’t been quite that articulate, and I remember him saying he wished I’d died instead of her.”

  “Wait, what? Did he say who your father was?”

  “Yeah he gave me a man’s name, someone I’ve never heard of. Then he told me to get out, because now that Mum was gone he didn’t have to put up with me anymore.”

  I make a choked sound. That bastard! How could someone be so cruel? Darren had been there for Tane’s whole life. How could he just disregard him like that? The fact that he wasn’t his biological son shouldn’t have mattered. My heart breaks for Tane, but anger overrides my system.

  “I better not see that bastard around town,” I mutter.

  Surprising me, Tane laughs.

  “You know you were always welcome to come stay with us,” I say, hating that he felt he had to leave town. Why wouldn’t he come to us? He and Gage had been friends since primary school. My parents would have welcomed him without hesitation if he’d said he needed somewhere to stay.

  He nods. “I know, I just … I ju
st wanted to get away, you know? I was hurting. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to escape.”

  I stay silent, thinking everything over. “Thank you for telling me,” I finally say.

  “I’ve never told anyone. No one else knows except my cousin, and now you.”

  My eyes widen at that. I feel like he’s trusted me with a sacred piece of his past. “Your cousin?”

  “Yeah, Keiran, I think you met him once when we were younger,” he replies, clearing his throat.

  I rack my brain. “I think I remember him. Blond hair and blue eyes?”

  “Yeah,” he replies, his voice sounding hoarse. I have a feeling this doesn’t have a happy ending.

  “Where does he live?” I ask.

  “He lived in London.” Past tense.

  I should have known something was up by the way he was acting, but I kept asking questions. “Where does he live now?”

  “He passed away last year,” he says in a low tone, his voice laced with sadness and pain.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, brows furrowed. I wait quietly.

  “Go ahead and ask,” Tane says suddenly.

  I turn to look at his profile. “What?”

  “I know you want to ask how he died, so go ahead.”

  “Tane, you don’t have to—”

  “He died from a drug overdose,” he continues, as if I hadn’t said anything.

  I look at his profile. His hands grip the steering wheel. “Tane, I’m so sorry.”

  “I was with him the night it happened.”

  My breath leaves me.

  Shit.

  I reach over and grip his thigh with my hand, a silent show of support.

  “Don’t comfort me, Giselle. I don’t deserve it,” he says quietly.

  “Shut up Tane,” I growl, squeezing his thigh.

  He sighs and touches my hand with his own. “I didn’t mean to ruin our date.”

  “You didn’t, and I asked.”

  Was Tane taking drugs with his cousin that night? Is that why he feels like he doesn’t deserve comfort? I want to ask, but I feel like this isn’t the right time. Not when it’s clear he’s hurting.

  I sigh, my heart feeling heavy. I still don’t regret asking. I need to know these things about Tane, to understand him and get to know why he was how he was.