Rock the Heart

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Rock the Heart Page 90

by Michelle A. Valentine


  Tyke leans his head back against the couch in my office and sighs. “Do you think it’s Arnold? The guy’s not right upstairs and could’ve been stalking you.”

  I sag my shoulders. “I don’t know, Tyke. It’s possible, I guess. I just don’t know what he’d gain from doing this to us.”

  “You don’t know what the asshole wants because they haven’t replied with their demands, and yet the video still hasn’t gone viral. I’ve got Trip keeping tabs on the tabloids for us, too.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “You told your brother?”

  Tyke shrugs. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. He won’t say anything. Besides, he’s cool with it.”

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “He is? He doesn’t care that you’re screwing your therapist?”

  He pulls me into his lap. “First off, this is more than just sex. We’ve already established that. Secondly, my brother’s happy when I’m happy, and you, Frannie Mead, make me happy.”

  I melt into him as he kisses my temple.

  He pushes my hair away from my neck and nuzzles into me. “I can’t wait until we can be together without all this secrecy.”

  “You really think there’s a future for us outside this place?”

  “Of course I do,” he states confidently. “Don’t you?”

  “I dream about it, but I don’t know how it will all work if we don’t see each other very often.”

  He sighs. “It’s true I’m away a lot, but that won’t stop me from flying out to you every spare chance I get, and you can fly out to wherever I’m at on the road.”

  I stiffen in his arms. “I don’t fly.”

  “At all?” he questions.

  “Like ever.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  Since we seem to be at a point where we are truthful with one another, I begin to tell him exactly why I won’t step foot on a plane again. “My sister...her plane went down in the Atlantic Ocean. None of the passengers survived, and all that was ever found of the plane was a partial piece of wing. Ever since then, I’ve been deathly afraid. It’s been four years, and yet I can’t seem to get over it.”

  “That’s understandable,” he says as he rubs my back. “I think that reaction is perfectly normal.”

  “Well, my family doesn’t think so. My mother thinks it’s ridiculous that I can’t get past my fear and pretend like they aren’t evil killing machines.”

  “Maybe someday you’ll feel differently but until then, no one should push you.”

  “Thank you.” I wrap my arms around him, loving that he seems to understand my feelings about the situation.

  I sigh as we stay locked in our embrace. “What are we going to do about this email? Do you think we need more time apart to throw people off our scent?”

  “What good would that do? They’ve already caught us on tape. There’s not much we can say to dispute that,” he answers.

  “I don’t know.” I pull back so I can look him in the eyes. “We can always deny it. The video doesn’t zoom in on our faces too much.”

  He shakes his head. “Believe me; your face was pretty clear. They’ll know it’s you.”

  I toy with his hair, thinking of a new plan. “Well, what if you appear interested in someone else here? Do you think that would lead people away?”

  “No. That’s a terrible idea. And I won’t do that to you.” The tone in his voice is adamant.

  “Come on, Tyke. We’ll both know it’s just for show, and I’m not asking you to sleep around—just be extra nice to other women.” I take a deep breath. “I know it’s a crazy, irrational plan, but will you just try until we can figure out who is behind all this?”

  He huffs. “I don’t like it.”

  “For me?” I bat my eyes at him. “Once it’s over and you’re out of here, we can come clean. By then it won’t matter as much if the world finds out we’re together.”

  His body shifts below me, uncomfortable. “Okay, I’ll do it, but you have to promise that you won’t get all jealous because this is your idea. If you start acting like a psycho stalker, I’m done with the fucking game.”

  “Fair enough. But I promise to keep my inner crazy on lockdown.”

  For the next week, after our little plan of diversion is set in motion, Tyke does exactly as he promised. He’s overly nice to every female within five feet of him, but I can honestly say it doesn’t bother me in the slightest because the moments when no one is looking and he winks at me, I know that I’m the only one on his mind. That he’s being overly flirtatious to protect me. Because I asked him to.

  It’s a completely weird and screwed-up situation, but one I feel is completely necessary until we find out who in this place has dirt on us.

  While most of the women respond to his innocent come-ons with blushes, smiles, and giggles, there’s only one person who seems to be taking it a little too seriously.

  Josie Sullivan.

  It’s no secret Josie demands to be the center of attention, but she’s completely eating up every ounce of what Tyke throws at her. I know it shouldn’t bother me that’s she’s reading too much into what’s going on between them, but I can’t help it. Her body is amazing, and she’s a celebrity. Any woman who tells you that type of competition doesn’t worry them is a liar. I wish he would focus on someone else more, but Josie seems to be putting herself in close proximity to him all the time now.

  I turn my attention back to the products in front of me. While Kimmy is on the other side of the store buying cleaning supplies for the facility, I’m being sneaky and checking out pregnancy tests in the pharmacy aisle.

  It’s been three weeks since Tyke and I first had sex, which by my calendar makes my period a week late. I know it’s probably just the stress of everything going on causing the delay, but it doesn’t hurt to know for sure.

  Once I find the test that most doctors seem to recommend, I quickly pay for it and shove it into my purse before I go and search for Kimmy.

  The entire ride back to Serenity, I listen quietly as Kimmy drives and babbles on about her design school courses. It’s totally rude of me to just pretend that she has my full attention, but I can’t help being distracted by the fifteen-dollar test that has the potential to be a gamer changer.

  “Frannie, are you okay?” Kimmy asks. “You seem distracted. Is it Tyke?”

  I shake my head. Even though Kimmy knows that Tyke and I’ve fooled around, I don’t feel the need to divulge any additional information about our relationship, especially until I find out who is behind the video.

  It could be anyone, so I’m on high alert with all my secrets.

  “No. That was a one-time thing. He hasn’t crossed my mind really since then,” I lie.

  She frowns. “I’ve noticed him being overly flirtatious with everyone but you lately. Do I need to nut punch him for being a dick?”

  I burst out laughing. For some reason, the thought of petite Kimmy punching Tyke is comical. “No. But thank you for the offer.”

  She smiles. “What are friends for?”

  It’s a nice thought—being friends—but I can’t allow myself to give in to the idea, no matter how genuine she seems. She has stuck to her word about keeping my secret, though, or at least I think so. Wayne hasn’t let on that he knows anything if she has blabbed to him.

  After I say my goodbyes to Kimmy, I make my way down to the little cottage that’s been my home for the last month and quickly lock myself inside. The plastic sack crinkles in my hands as I pull the pregnancy test out of it and read the directions. It says it’s best to use the first morning’s urine, but I can’t hold out until tomorrow.

  After peeing on the cotton tip of the white stick as instructed, I place the cap on and place it on a piece of toilet paper on my sink. I stare anxiously as I watch the saturated cotton inside the test begin to change the lines on the test. When not one, but two pink lines pop up in the window, my breath catches.

  No.

  No. No.

  No. No. NO!


  This is the completely wrong time for this to be happening. I knew it was a possibility, but never did I think it was going to actually happen. Tyke doesn’t want a baby. He told me that himself. And while I’ve just came around to the idea of trying to let my guard down and become something more than a friend who fucks from him from time to time, I know we’re not ready for this.

  Neither of us.

  Chapter 14

  “It Goes Like This” – Thomas Rhett

  Tyke The ringtone on my phone wakes me from a deep sleep. I roll over and grab it off the nightstand and answer when I see Trip’s name pop up.

  “No rest for the wicked or what?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “I’ve been up working, smartass. The track has a huge event coming up, so we’re running around like crazy trying to get things ready.”

  “Damn, another event? You’re making money hand over fist now with that place.”

  “I don’t know about all that, but it’s definitely doing a lot better financially than when I first got there. My girl has done some amazing things to promote our business.”

  My brother’s happy. Probably the happiest I’ve ever seen him. I’m glad he’s found someone. I didn’t understand his infatuation with Holly before, but now that I’ve met Frannie, I’m starting to understand wanting to spend all your time with one woman.

  “That’s great, Trip,” I tell him. “But what does all that have to do with calling me before the rooster even fucking crows?”

  “Sorry, bro, it was the only time I’d have time to call you today. I wanted to let you know that Noel spoke with the label yesterday. They want the new album done within two months. Do you have any songs for it yet?”

  I sigh. “No, not yet, but I’ll get cracking, and as soon as I get out of here, hopefully I’ll have some decent lyrics and melodies together so we can go straight into the studio.”

  “Awesome. I knew we could count on you. We’d never be able to make the new record without your crazy ass. You’re a lyrical genius. Hold on, Tyke.” The rustling sound of him putting his hand over the receiver while he speaks to someone else pours through my phone. “Sorry, man, gotta go. I’ll call you soon.”

  “All right. Later,” I reply before we disconnect.

  As I lay there, Frannie’s face is the first thing that pops into my mind as I think about leaving to reunite with my band.

  This idea Frannie has about me hitting on other women to draw attention away from us messing around is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I tried to convince her that it was a terrible idea, but she was convinced it wasn’t. She can be very persuasive because all I want to do is make her smile.

  I hum a rhythm that’s been working its way into my brain over the last few days. For some reason, the urge to get back to writing music has hit me hard. I’m not sure if it’s the small piece of happiness I’ve found recently with having Frannie in my life, or the fact that I want to finish this album and get not only the band back on track, but myself as well.

  I pull out my phone to type down the lyrics that hit me as I think of the melody.

  You . . . you don’t see how much you mean to me.

  How you make me work hard to be the man I’m supposed to be.

  Frannie’s face is all I see as I type out the words. It’s true she probably doesn’t see how I really feel about her. I mean, hell, why the fuck would she believe that a recovering drug addict like me, stuck in this place, would actually have feelings for her? I’m sure she still thinks this is a relationship of convenience.

  I mumble a few more sentences but nothing seems fitting so I close the app and check my email. It’s then I see the email that Frannie forwarded to me of the video of us fucking in the woods.

  I can’t resist. I open the video and turn the sound down low. My eyes drift down to Frannie’s face and the expression she wears is absolutely the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She wants me. She needs me.

  My cock begins to throb and swell as I remember what it feels like to be buried deep inside her. Absently, my hand drifts down into my boxers and I grab my shaft. The only way I’m going to get rid of this boner now is to rub one out.

  I pause the video, needing something to help me with the job at hand. I reach into my shower bag and grab a bottle of lotion before pulling my shirt off and lying down. My boxer briefs quickly get shoved down my hips, before I squeeze a small amount of lotion into my hand. The sensation of my fingers around my stiff cock, stroking, is nowhere as pleasurable as Frannie’s pussy, but it’ll have to do.

  I restart the video, the moans coming from Frannie, coupled with watching me fuck her on film quickly causes every nerve in my body to tingle. My pace quickens and the moment I see Frannie come, I lose it. I close my eyes and try to fool my brain into thinking I’m balls deep in her, sliding against her slick flesh while giving into my own pleasure.

  I shoot my load all over my stomach and lower chest as I stifle back a moan. I rub my thumb over my head and wipe the rest of the dripping come off my tip.

  Holy fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me if I don’t start banging her more than twice a month. After cleaning up, I’m finally relaxed, and drift off to sleep with thoughts of Frannie on my mind.

  The next morning I make it down to breakfast before Timothy even has time to make it up the stairs and get me. Ever since jerking off to that video of Frannie I’ve been horny as fuck. I can’t wait until all this treatment bullshit is over and I can get back to a normal life—one that includes fucking Frannie whenever I want.

  Most of the other patients—or clients as all the staff call us—are already in their seats ready for breakfast. Frannie isn’t here yet, so I sit next to an empty chair to save it for her.

  “Hey, hot stuff,” Josie purrs as she plops down in Frannie’s seat. “You’re looking good enough to eat this morning.”

  Her come-ons make me want to roll my eyes so fucking bad. This girl is so not my type—not that I even had a type, looking back on all the random groupies I’ve fucked around with over the last year. And Gabby Rodriguez, I don’t even want to think about that screwed-up mess. Trip had been right about her. She was absolutely no good for me.

  Josie’s still staring at me, waiting on me to flirt back with her like I’ve been doing lately. I’m really not in the mood to put up with this little game today, but I don’t want to piss off Frannie, so I play along.

  I lean back and casually throw my around the back of Josie’s chair and give her my most devilish smirk. “Well, why don’t you come take a bite?”

  She giggles and twirls her bottle-blond hair around her index finger as she slides her tongue along her top teeth. “Maybe I just might.”

  I’m still pretending to be loving this wicked banter between Josie and I as I turn my head and notice Frannie staring at me with a pained expression.

  Fuck.

  I told her this wasn’t a good idea.

  She’s pissed. How I’m ever going to drive it home to her that I am not some fucking douchebag, out to hurt her?

  That’s it. This little fucking game is over. Either way, Frannie is going to be pissed at me, but I’d much rather it be for me doing the right thing and not flirting with people in front of her face.

  The rest of the meal, Frannie doesn’t even look at me. Josie, on the other hand, won’t leave me the fuck alone.

  For the third time in the last ten minutes, I shove Josie’s hand off my thigh. I furrow my eyebrows at her and tell her to stop each time, but this bitch is persistent as fuck.

  I finish my meal in record time, because the second Frannie leaves this table, I’m going after her.

  My gaze never moves from Frannie. Her plate has hardly been touched and yet she continues to sit there and pick at it. I need her to at least look at me.

  Getting desperate for some sort of communication with her, I think of the only excuse I can to engage her in front of all these people. “Dr. Mead, is my appointment still right befor
e lunch?”

  She shakes her head but doesn’t look in my direction. “No, it’s after.”

  I knew that. It’s been the same time every other day since I started here. I just needed to ask her something, anything that would make her speak to me.

  Frannie pushes back from the table. “If you will excuse me, I have some work I need to get finished.”

  I go after her, careful to not seem too passionate in my chase in front of the others, but she speeds up when she notices me hot on her heels, rushing through the office door before trying to shut it in my face.

  I wedge my boot against the jamb, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Go away, Tyke.”

  “No,” I tell her firmly and push on the door. “Let me in and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  She rolls her eyes but steps back reluctantly, allowing me to enter. The moment we’re alone, I question, “What the hell was that back there? You promised you wouldn’t get pissed. This was your idea, remember?”

  She wraps her arms around her torso. “This isn’t going to work, Tyke.”

  “Your idea? Yeah, I already told you it wouldn’t.”

  “No, I meant you and me. We’re no good for each other.”

  I look at her confused. “Why would you say that? I’ve already told you how I feel about you. If you think I’m just going to throw that away—”

  “You say that now,” she cuts me off. “But soon you’ll be leaving. I’ll be just another woman you spent a couple months with, and that will be that. There’s no real tie between us—nothing forcing us to stay together when you’re on the road and I’m still here.”

  I need to make her see how ridiculous she’s being. She wants to push me away because of the fear she has that I’m just going to hurt her and leave her.

  Without permission, I take her into my arms. She stills like a statue, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing the back of her neck and grazing my thumb along her delicate skin. “I know what you’re doing, but I’m telling you right now that it isn’t going to work. You’re stuck with me, Frannie, so you might as well stop trying to push me away.”

 

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