Alcohol You Later (21)

“That’s sweet,” she says, clearing her throat and stiffening her spine like she’s just remembered she’s supposed to be mad at me. These kids provide the perfect distraction for her to do just that, and I resent them even more for it. “The babies and I ate while you were out. I’m just giving them each a cup of milk before bed.”

Bitterness stirs in my gut as I toss the steaks into the fridge. “I’ll leave you to it then,” I say, trying not to let the anger that’s consuming me seep into my voice. Then I slip off to my room to keep from digging myself into an even bigger hole.

I wait an hour or so—till I haven’t heard any commotion in a while—before creeping back out. The bus is dark, apart from some running lights illuminating the walkway. The only sound to be heard is the bus’s engine and the occasional ice cube dropping in the fridge.

“Ray?” I whisper, first checking the living room and bathroom before realizing she must’ve put herself in one of the bunks near the kids.

“Get your ass outta there,” I whisper-shout when I rip the curtain open to find her curled up in the fetal position, hugging a pillow to her chest. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not in the mood tonight, Nick. I just wanna get some sleep.” She yawns for emphasis.

“Okay…” I say, feeling a little guilty that she just assumes that sex is all I want from her. “But I’ll be damned if you’re sleeping anywhere but in my arms.”

She stares at me for a beat, her eyes so weary. “That does sound nice.”

“Just let me hold you, pretty girl. That’s all I want.”

“Okay,” she says, climbing out of the bunk and lacing her fingers with mine. “Take me to bed, drummer boy.”

The smile on her face is all the invitation I need to scoop her up into my arms and smother her giggle with a kiss.

It’d be way too easy to take this further. Despite her words, the passion with which she’s delving her tongue into my mouth…the way her grip on my hair is tightening…the sexy little mewling sounds she makes as I collapse with her onto the bed…all tell me she’d be eager to get—in her words—down and dirty.

But as much I as I’d love to bury my pain in this woman, who would willingly take it all without complaint, I’m on a mission to prove to her, and even to myself, that this friendship we have is so much deeper.

With what feels like superhuman strength, I break away, nipping the tip of her nose and peppering light kisses over her brow before guiding her head to rest on my chest. I knead my hands into those thick locks of hers that drive me wild.

She smooths a hand over my pecks, pausing to swirl a finger around my nipple. My dick stands up and takes notice. If she doesn’t stop, this’ll be a hell of a lot harder than I thought.

I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to put an end to her exquisite brand of torture without hurting her feelings. “Ray,” I rasp, stroking her hair.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

My heart squeezes when she presses her lips to my chest. “You’ll never have find out.”

A lump forms in my throat. “Our friendship is everything to me, babe. I know I’m a lot, and I probably make you feel insignificant at times, but I… Fuck,” I growl, unable to figure out how to put into words what it is I’m trying to say. “I’m just so afraid to lose you. Afraid of what I’d become.”

“Shhh,” she whispers, pressing a finger to my lips. “I’m not going anywhere, drummer boy.” She folds her arms over my abs and stares up at me, her green eyes glistening by the light of the moon filtering in through the blinds. “I’ll keep you safe,” she whispers, planting a slow kiss right over my heart.

“And I’ll keep you wild,” I answer in turn, my voice heavy with emotion.





I awaken the next morning with a sense of serenity I haven’t felt since my arrival. It’s early, and the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon, bathing the room in an ethereal glow.

And suddenly life doesn’t seem so bad. All I needed was a good night’s sleep to put things into perspective.

So, Nick has two kids. Two crazy-adorable, sweet as pecan pie kids.

It’s not the end of the world.

Briefly the realization that there’s no baby momma drama to contend with intrudes on my thoughts, and I feel wretched for even thinking it. No doubt, I’ll be going straight to hell for that one.

Sorry, Ellie Mae Ritter. I didn’t mean it.

I cross myself, send up a kiss, and say a little prayer for my selfish soul before splitting the blinds with two fingers and peering out…

Sometime during the night, we must’ve made it to the venue, because we’re no longer moving, and I can see Rhett’s bus parked next to ours with the slides pulled out.

I take a quick glance at the baby monitors, finding the twins still fast asleep.

Their father is nowhere in sight. His absence, however, isn’t setting off any alarms this time. Sleep, for him, is extremely hard to come by. I know exactly where I’ll find him—hunched over a notebook scribbling his latest musical masterpiece—once I finally find the energy to peel myself out of this warm bed, that is.

I reach over to his side and tug his pillow toward me, smothering my face in it. I would bathe in that man’s essence if I could. Every self-centered, clueless, beautifully broken ounce of it.