Alcohol You Later (46)

I point to her note pad urging her to let me finish. “The truth is, I’m human and I’m flawed… deeply so. And I made a mistake. One that hurt the woman I love, my bandmates, and rightly upset many of you.”

“Hold up… did you just say the l-word.”

My cheeks flame. “Yeah.”

She nods, hollowing her cheeks to keep from smiling. “Continue.”

“And so, I come to you humbly seeking your forgiveness and for the opportunity to prove that it’s a misstep I intend to learn and grow from. And one I don’t intend to repeat. P.S. If you could put in a good word with Ms. Winters on my behalf in the comments below, I’d be supremely grateful. She is an absolute angel for putting up with my shit and doesn’t deserve any of the negative attention she’s receiving due to my shameful behavior.”

“Okay,” Anika says, “I can work with this.”

“Great. Thanks again for your help with the diaper situation.”

“Ah-ah.” She grips my knee, giving it a good squeeze. “Don’t dismiss me just yet. We still have one more issue to tend to.”

“That would be?”

She smiles just as the bus doors open. “Perfect timing, Lyle.”

He strolls in, like nothing is untoward, giving me a nod in greeting when what I deserve is a swift kick to the jaw.

“Hey, man.” I scrub a hand over my face, shame and regret churning in my gut. “I’m really sorry about yesterday…I took my own insecurities out on you, and you didn’t deserve that.”

He nods, seating himself in the chair across the room, near the kids whose faces light up when they see him. He greets each of them briefly before addressing me. “I need you to know that my feelings for Raven don’t extend beyond friendship.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a finger, cutting me off.

“I stepped up to help her in your place because you couldn’t…or wouldn’t…whatever the case.” He shrugs. “That’s neither here nor there. As you know, my sister is a single mom. I’ve watched her struggle, even with the help of my parents and myself—before I left. I understand how hard it is—how overwhelming it can become. And I was willing and able to help.”

“I appreciate it.”

He laughs. “No, you don’t. You can’t possibly, because you have no idea what it takes to raise children. You don’t have a clue how tired and stressed Raven was.” He shakes his head to himself. “I don’t even think you cared.” A wry grin curls his lips. “But I have a feeling you’ll realize it very soon.”

Anika cackles. “Oh, he’s realizing it, all right. Wait till you see the bathroom and what remains from this morning’s shit-splosion.”

Embarrassment colors my cheeks. “It’s been a rough start to the day, to say the least.”

“It’s probably good for you that I need a place to stay, then.”

I look at him quizzically.

“I’d prefer not to reside on the same bus as Raven after what went down yesterday. I know you’ve apologized, but those insecurities came from somewhere, and I do not want to add fuel to that flame.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Of course, you can stay here.”

“I’m not here to play manny.” He says this as he lifts both kids into his lap, resting their heads on his chest.

“Understood.”

“I promised Korie and Raven I’d take a back seat and let you do the heavy lifting.” He slinks down into the recliner, making himself comfortable and begins to rock.

“Got it,” I say, with a confused laugh. “Isn’t this the exact opposite of what you promised the girls?”

“Oh, contraire,” he says, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds to me like there’s some heavy lifting to do in my bathroom.” He snaps his fingers twice. “Chop-chop, mutha fucka!”





“Uh, Raven?” Korie flings the curtain to my bunk open right in the middle of a steamy scene.

“Yeah?” My cheeks heat, as if she can see what’s on the page, and I quickly stuff a bookmark into my novel and slam it shut. “What’s up?”

“The groveling has begun.”

“Huh?” I swing my feet over and duck out from the bed. “What are you talking a—whoa!” My voice dries up when I get a glimpse of the dining area—at the massive vase of what must be at least two dozen long-stem red roses. And there’s a life-sized stuffed bear propped against the wall with a gift box attached to its hands.

“Nicholas?” I mutter.

“Yep. There’s a card somewhere in the flowers.”

In what feels like slow motion, I drag my feet to the kitchen, digging the card out and reading it to myself.



Pretty girl,

Thank you for not walking out on me, although I couldn’t have blamed you if you did. I’ve been an absolute fool where you’re concerned. An idiot who couldn’t see what’s been right in front of him for so long. I’ve allowed fear to dictate my actions, never realizing I didn’t even know the true meaning of the word until I was faced with losing you. I want to build a life together—that’s never been clearer to me than it is right now. I know it’ll take time for you to be convinced that this is real. That I can change. But I want you to know that I’m all in—whatever it takes. I’ll dedicate my life to making you feel as safe with me as you’ve always made me feel with you.