Then again, he had said last night that he’d bring breakfast, and then we’d talk. Whatever that meant.
“So…” I took another sip of the black coffee. “…what did you want to talk about?”
“Us.” He grinned.
At least I was getting used to his constant sarcasm and verbal sparring; I ignored the way his smile made my insides stir with heat and grabbed a fork. “Ah, there is no us, but do continue. I like a good fiction.”
“Ha!” He pointed his fork at me. “So, while I appreciate you letting me stay here while the band records — for free — I decided I want to help out around here.”
I stared him down and then started laughing so hard that I had tears running down my face. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! That was just not what I expected you to say! And it’s not exactly as if the house is falling apart at the seams.”
His eyes flashed. “Who the hell said anything about the house?”
I gulped. “Wh-what?”
He reached out and grabbed my chair then scooted it so close to him that his legs were nearly straddling me. I trembled a bit as he watched me closely and then confessed, “I talked with Braden last night after we all left, for at least three hours. I’ve known him for a few years — we’ve always been close — and I know the shit card you were dealt. I asked him what you needed the most, and you know what he said?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said, a slight shake to my voice. “Friendship?”
Drew’s grin was lethal. “Something like that…”
“Drew—”
“God, I love it when you say my name.”
“Be serious!”
“I am.” He trailed a finger down my cheek. “He said he wishes you had one week without responsibility, one week to go wild, one week where you weren’t worried about everything. And that he has no idea how to give it to you. You have money. Trust me, I know how much I paid him on his first tour, and I don’t exactly think I’m the friendship-pact sort of guy, so Braden and I made a truce. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“Huh?”
“He’s not going to ask. He left early this morning, and he’s going to pretend we’re playing chess and going for long walks the entire time he’s gone.”
“I take it—” I sucked in a deep breath… held it… then, “—we aren’t actually going to be playing chess?”
“Not unless you’re naked, then yes, let’s play all the chess.” He smirked, dropping his hand and leaning so close I could feel the heat from his mouth. “You need a week to be free. You never got to really date, to go skinny dipping, and tell the world to go fuck itself. You never got to experience what it was like to be bad. You were too busy being good, too busy being a mom when you were just a kid yourself.”
For some reason, my eyes filled with tears. I looked away. “And what makes you think I would even consider any of this?”
“I’m here.” Drew moved until his lips were pressed flat against my neck. “Use me. Let yourself be bad, just once, and when I’m gone… you’ll at least have that.”
“You’re forgetting one thing.” I couldn’t focus with his mouth on my neck.
“What’s that?”
“I have a daughter who still lives here, and I have responsibilities, and you… you’re you! This would be crazy. You’re basically asking me to just…” I couldn’t even say it. “…you know?”
“No, I don’t know, because you just waved your hands at me like a lunatic.” He slowly stood and then peeled his shirt over his head.
I quickly looked away. “No, no, what are you doing? You can’t just strip in the kitchen!”
“Exactly what I’m talking about.” His dark chuckle was so not helping. “You’re stuck in a world of rules and obligations, and what makes you think I’m not lonely? That you don’t tempt me? It’s your anniversary week, but have you ever really had the anniversary of your dreams?”
I was quiet. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, and all I could think of was how petrified I was that all it would take would be seven days in Drew’s arms for him to break it.
“Is this the part—” I still wouldn’t look at him “—where you tell me not to fall in love with you?”
He barked out a laugh. “You already really like me. I’m even cocky enough to admit I’m convinced you may have even…” He stood behind me, his hands pressing down on my shoulders, and lowered his voice to seductive levels. “…fantasized me.”
I let out a little moan. Damn his hands! “I’m not admitting anything,” I said, unable to speak above a whisper.
“Good thing Braden was Team Drew last night after our talk then. He mentioned something about a poster hanging on your ceiling and a certain album you played over and over and over—”
“I get it,” I snapped.
“—and over…” He just wouldn’t stop. “…and over again, to help you get through those first few months of being a new mom.”
Was my son too old for me to ground? In a moment of weakness, I’d confessed that to Braden. Only because I’d been in such shock that Drew had been standing in our apartment kitchen as if he owned the place.
I truly hadn’t recovered from that first meeting for weeks, and then when they went on tour and made a stop in Portland, and I had backstage passes, it was like living in a fantasy.
Drew always had smiles for everyone, but when nobody was looking, all I saw was a darkness in his eyes and an ability to make everyone and everything look totally fine when you were conversing.
“What do you get out of this?” I finally found my voice.
“I thought that was clear.” He slid his hands down
