Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (22 page)

“Never again,”  I whisper back.

I doubt he heard me, but it’s the truth. Nothing could possibly take me away from him again, and I don’t want it to. I’m absolutely fucking Alanis Morisette-style, head over feet, crazy in love with Tristan Scott.

Tristan

I’m surprised when I don’t feel my girl’s breathing even out. She usually passes out within a few minutes, but right now she's lying still against my chest. I cradle her soft tits in my arm. I love the fucking way they hang over like that. Goddamn.

“Tristan…” she whispers.

I lay a kiss against the back of her head.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you hate me?” she asks, her voice soft, pained.

Fuck.
Hearing it feels like someone just fucking gutted me.

“I never hated you. I- I guess you could say I was afraid of you.”

Holding her close, I close my eyes, feeling her. Her body shakes softly. I can’t fucking tell if she’s crying or laughing.

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” she finally lets out when she stops.

“
I
don’t make sense.”

Her body stills at my words. Right when I think she’s about to pass out, her angelic whispers break the silence.

“Tristan?”

My lips curl. God I love this fucking woman.

“Yeah, my girl?”

She hesitates for a second, but gets a hold of herself.

“Wh-what’re your parents like?”

Fuck!

My eyes close as a flash of numbness takes over.

“I don’t know. They’re fucking dead,” I say through gritted teeth.

Sophia jerks at the coldness in my tone. Fuck!

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

The way she said it fucking kills me. Don’t hurt for me, my girl. I have to try and explain it to her. Shit. I don’t want to fucking talk about them.

I loosen my arms from around her and roll to my back. Stretching one arm out, I rest my head on it as my left still cradles my girl. Sophia rolls over and rests her chin on my chest. The smooth, round feel of her belly rubbing against my side relieves me. She lifts her face up, her blue eyes wide, bright sapphires staring back at me through the darkness.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

The sound of her soft voice soothes something inside of me. Staring into her eyes, for some fucking reason… I actually want her to know about it. Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I blow out a shaky breath. Sophia’s eyes are still on me, her mouth closed, but her features soft, inviting.

“There’s not much to tell, really,” I shrug my shoulders slightly. “My mom was a drunken whore and left my dad when I was young. He was pretty fucked up over it, but we moved on. He died when I was eighteen.”

Those blue eyes drop for a moment hearing me call my mom a whore. Fuck, I wish I could make her understand.

“She cheated on my dad just so she could get fucking high or drunk.”

“How do you know?” Sophia says flatly, her voice quiet.

“Ah…” I look up toward the dark ceiling. “I can’t remember the exact details. I was pretty fucking young, but I always remembered Dad being there, not her.”

My eyes glance down at her.

“I wasn’t fucking dumb. As I got older, I would hear people talk shit. I’m from a pretty small town in the middle of nowhere. Everyone knows everyone else’s shit.”

Sophia looks up at me, waiting for me to finish. Biting the corner of my bottom lip, my eyes move back up to the ceiling.

“I remember my old man getting pretty bad sometimes. Drunk. But he always tried to hide it from me, like I wouldn’t fucking know. Well, by the time I was around thirteen,  he gave up hiding. He wasn’t an asshole.”

I want to get this over with. Exhaling through my mouth, I go on.

“My old man was a great guy, he just hurt, because of her. She fucked him.”

My voice cracks with hate at the end, remembering how he tried to fight, but couldn’t.

“So she left you guys? How old were you?”

“I think around four.”

“Aw, my,” Sophia says, then lays a feathery kiss on my bare chest before rolling over, adjusting her body along with the pillows. Her nice ass presses against my thigh.

“How did your dad pass away?” she asks, her voice still soft but sounding less tense than before.

“He pretty much drank himself to death. Cirrhosis of the liver.”

A small gasp comes from Sophia. She twists around and gazes sadly up at me. I bring my hand down so the back of my finger grazes her cheekbone.

“You scared me, because I never once felt like I was gonna be like my dad until you came into my life.” Shit. I look back up and toss my head. “When I first laid eyes on you, I knew it was game over. And that pissed me off.”

My grin widens. Looking back at Sophia, her own matches mine.

“Kind of a shitty way to deal with it.”

She lifts an eyebrow, smirking at me. Running my tongue over my bottom lip, her eyes dart toward it.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “It was shitty. I’m a piece of shit.” Sophia bites her bottom lip and grins at me. “Wanna marry me now?” I ask, grinning back.

She shakes her head no at me. Fuck. Laughing, Sophia crawls off the bed and heads for the bathroom. Bringing both hands back behind my head, my fucking smile takes over as I grin ear to fucking ear. 

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sophia

Today’s the day that Frankie has planned my coed baby shower up at Lux’s place in Holmby Hills. Today also marks my thirty-fourth week. Tristan and I are flying out to Michigan tomorrow to visit my folks before I have to go on total lock down, as I call it. Frankie has been on a roll lately, decorating the house, planning this get together and still being the best friend a girl could want.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I drop the towel from my body. My hands trail over the top of my belly, curving downward. I feel it now. I didn’t want to find out the baby’s sex and Tristan was fine with that. Frankie wasn’t, but he got over it and now thinks it’s totally exciting. And come to think about it, I think my boys and Tristan’s have some kind of pool going on.

The baby’s kicks that once tickled as they fluttered feel more like a switch blade is going off on my cervix or up in my ribs. But I panic if I don’t feel it. I’ve already had both Tristan and Frankie bring me to the hospital a couple times thinking something was wrong. Of course I was freaking. Where the baby used to do somersaults, he or she now twists more slowly.

Heading into my closet and opening my top drawer, I dig around ’til I feel a pair of cotton briefs. Not the sexiest, but they don’t look old school, either. Frankie would storm in here and burn ’em. They’re more like a soft peach colored string bikini.

Gripping the top of the drawer, I swing my arm low so my ankle hooks through. Yes! First shot. Carefully letting go, I stick my other ankle in, then slide my panties up. I kind of overslept and we have to be at Lux’s place by three and it’s already one thirty. Yeah, that’s probably not happening. Fucking west coast traffic.

“Baby!” I yell for Tristan, who is probably still in the bathroom finishing up.

He doesn’t respond back but I already hear him coming. Once he gets to the doorway, he rests his hands on top of the frame and leans in. Damn…

“What is it?”

I’m standing here huge and topless as Tristan’s eyes roam over me. Oh, shit. Not right now. Sometimes I wonder how the fuck Tristan thinks I’m sexy, but then, I shut that little bitch voice up. If anything, I have never seen Tristan more insane over me than I have lately.

“I-I...”

Tristan lets go of the frame and stalks toward me. Yeah, we ended up being late…

************

Arriving at Lux’s place, I immediately love that the guests are just both of our bands and a couple close friends. My eyes grow huge when I see Tiffany over by the sliding glass door to Lux’s ridiculous patio. I would trip out in his infinity pool, because it hangs off a massive cliff! It’s really muggy out today. With it being late spring, I decided to throw on a long, white eyelet backless maxi dress. My hair is in loose waves with a couple strands pinned off my face.

“Hey, you!” I reach in for a side hug as I approach her.

She brushes her full, red mane out of her face and throws her arms around me. I haven’t seen her in so long. I was actually feeling bummed and thinking Roger was an idiot. Well done, Roger.

“Aw… look at your tiny belly,” she coos at me while she softly strokes circles around my belly. “When are you due?”

“June twenty ninth,” I smile up at her.

“Oh, wow! Coming up.”

Thank God! I roll my eyes to myself. The pregnancy has been going good, but it’s starting to suck ass again. Resting my hands on my lower back, I cock my head to the side, my hair spilling over my shoulder.

We chat for a few more minutes before Roger comes barreling over. I take the opportunity to catch the bathroom. Since Lux has at least ten of them here, I venture off and choose one on the second floor. Fuck. It seems like everything here is made from granite or marble.

Just as I’m heading back down the main stairs, I hear heated whispers coming from the other room. Instead of turning left, I go straight and end up at some parlor looking room. I stop when I see Caleb leaning against a desk, his feet crossed at the ankles as his arms stretch out back behind him, supporting him. Tristan sits back comfortably in one of the oversized chairs, folding his arms over his chest.

“So, what the fuck is going on?”

Tristan’s voice, even though he tries to be quiet, rumbles through the room. Caleb tosses his head back.

“Katie!” he groans.

“Oh, fuck. Why don’t you just fucking call her if you can’t-”

“I don’t need to fucking call her!” Caleb loses his cool and shouts at Tristan, his heated words causing me to jump.

What in the fuck is going on?

“That’s what I’ve been trying to fucking tell you,” he gestures angrily with his hands. “I fucking seen her…” his voice lowers with his head.

“When?” Tristan raises his eyebrow.

“When I went out to Vegas a couple months back.” he says. “She’s… she’s fucked up.” He slowly raises his head. “
I
fucked her up…”

Huh? Who’s Katie?

“What the fuck do you mean, you fucked her up?”

Caleb chokes on his breath. Shaking his head, he pushes off the desk.

“I don’t know!”

It stays silent for a while. I’m almost getting ready to pretend I was just looking through the house ’til Caleb speaks up.

“She’s still there, I fucking know it.” He pinches his eyebrows together, looking lost. “But I…”

“So what the fuck are you saying?” Tristan’s voice jerks Caleb out of his trance.

“I’m fucking saying that the Katie I remember wouldn’t unbutton the fucking top button of her cardigan and now…
Now
, she fucking bares all of herself for the fucking sake of green!” He yells the last part.

What? Is she a stripper? Tristan’s face remains impassive when Caleb slouches in the chair in front of him, cradling his head. It’s hard to pick up what he’s saying.

“Watching her up on that stage, she was alive, but when I found her eyes, they were dead.”

“Did you get a hold of her afterwards?” Tristan asks, cocking his head to the side.

“I couldn’t. I think she fucking saw me. When she disappeared offstage, I tracked down the owner but she bailed before her shift was over. She uses the name Iris when she dances. But I couldn’t find out shit.”

Tristan’s eyes scan across Caleb’s pained features. Blowing out a breath, he looks over to the side.

“Maybe you should try harder,” he says.

Caleb huffs and shakes his head.

“I fucking
tried
! I’m even heading there when I’m done with your baby shower. I can’t stop fucking thinking about her.”

Tristan grins when Caleb says ʻhis’ baby shower. A deep laugh comes from his throat.

“Well, it’s good to see you got your fucking priorities together.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Caleb interrupts, clearly pissed at the tone of Tristan’s voice.

Tristan’s face hardens as he looks over at his friend.

“It means, why the fuck are you here when you should be getting your ass to Vegas?”

My heart stops. Holy fuck. Some may not be able to see the romance in that shit, but Caleb does. His grin creeps across his face as he stares back at his friend. Slowly he nods his head.

“Oh, there you are!” Frankie cheers behind me, causing me to jump.  Tristan’s and Caleb’s heads turn toward the doorway.

“Oh, hey, boys.” Frankie wiggles his fingers. “It’s game time.”

He smiles as he hooks his arm through mine and spins me around, heading for the stairs. Tristan quirks an eyebrow up, probably wondering what the hell I was doing standing in the doorway.

“So funny,” Frankie taps his fingertips against my elbow. “Lux has someone from the University here with some equipment.”

He starts giggling like crazy. What?

“Just wait,” he laughs again and glances back.

Following the direction of his stare, my eyes fall back on Tristan, who is a couple steps behind Caleb as they follow us out to the patio where everyone is gathered. Roger and Tiffany are with a couple guys that must be here because Lux and Tristan know them. Ryan is in the Jacuzzi by himself, drinking as he watches everyone around him. Over to the right is this gurney with a machine that looks like some kind of medical equipment.

A middle aged woman dressed in a simple pants suit pulls up a chair beside it. This piques my interest. Lux steps out from behind the bar that’s next to it and laces his fingers in front of him, grinning ear to ear. The look on his face tells you he has something planned.

“Sophia!” he nods as he steps in and wraps his arms around me. He gives me a light hug and a peck on the cheek. “You ready?”

“For what?” I laugh back at the look on his face.

Lux’s eyes scan the crowd.

“Anyone interested in ten thousand dollars?” he yells.

Of course Roger is the first to reply as some of the other guys laugh or whistle. Lux grins at him, shaking his head.

“No one is that desperate. You wouldn’t be game for this anyway, Roger. You’re too pussy.”

Laughs erupt at hearing Lux actually say ʻpussy’. It’s funny when he gets like this because ninety nine percent of the fucking time he is well spoken and professional.

“You are what you eat,” Roger yells back.

I roll my eyes at his lame comeback. Gawd, I still fucking love him. Tristan steps up behind me and circles his arms around my waist. Placing my hands on top of his, I hold him to me as we watch Lux continue on.

“Anyone willing to experience what Sophia has to go through?” He raises his eyebrow and continues.“Make it out and I have ten grand here in cash for the winner.”

He turns to his right and gestures with his hand to the woman.

“This here is Monica. Monica is certified RN and will be controlling this here. This simple device delivers an artificial version of labor that will let you experience what Sophia will have to go through. It will only be minutes, but whoever wants to try will have to complete all three stages of labor without asking for an epidural.”

Holy shit! My eyes widen as the nurse pulls out these suction cup thingies that I remember seeing as a kid that they put all over E.T. Aw, my, that’s still a sad movie when you think about it. Fuck! Hormones…

Frankie steps off to the side of me and lifts his hand.

“I’ll try,” he grins.

Lux beams over at him. Knowing right away that he most likely won’t make it, he waves him down. Frankie steps up to the machine with his hands out to his sides, bent at the wrist. His tropical floral print pants sway in the breeze.

Spinning around, he takes a seat on the gurney and crosses his sandal-clad ankles together. Monica smirks at him, her eyes clearly knowing something that he doesn’t as Frankie stares off into the sky, oblivious. He giggles here and there as she raises his shirt up, placing those things on him.

Frankie brings up his left hand and strokes his fingers through his silky locks as the blond reflects the California light, his bracelets falling down his wrist when he does.

“Ooh, that tickles,” he says when Monica places one of those pads on the back side of his torso.

She steps back and grins down at Frankie, who is stretching out on the gurney with his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed.

“Are you ready?” she asks, taking a seat. She picks up what looks like a remote when she does.

“You go, girl,” Frankie chirps back.

Watching her, I’m all of a sudden afraid for Frankie, seeing her smirk turn mischievous. Her thumb hits the remote a few times and Frankie twitches.

“Oh, my,” he giggles, but winces at the end.

The guys step in closer as they watch Frankie begin labor. Roger, with Tiffany tucked under his arm, steps off to the side, watching with a drink in his hand. Frankie puts up with it pretty good, trying to laugh it off, but then Monica’s thumb presses down again a few more times and Frankie’s eyes bulge. Less than a minute later, his arms start flailing.

“Okay, that’s good,” he cries through his laughter, but you can tell he’s covering up.

A minute later, he can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck! Get it off!” he screeches as the pain intensifies.

He tries to rip the suction cups off of him, but can’t grasp them.

Frankie immediately lets go and his hands reach for his lower back.

“AHH!!!!” he screams as he grits his teeth.

Tristan’s laugh rumbles through his chest and over my back, peeking over my shoulder at him, I see he’s watching Frankie make a spectacle of himself. I’m not scared. Frankie reacted the same way when he had a hangnail, so I’m not too worried, watching him now.

“Take it off!” he taps out beside him.

“You need something?” Monica hints at the safe word for him.

“Fuck! Epidural!” Frankie cries.

I’m laughing so hard that I’m fucking glad I didn’t drink anything earlier. Monica’s thumb presses once on something that instantly stops Frankie’s torture. His body falls limply onto the gurney. When she unhooks him, he stumbles toward me.