Deep (15 page)

“Yep.” Funny, I’d always loved it when he called me that. This time, however, was different. I took a sip of the apple juice to try to cool myself down.

Brows drawn in, Vaughan looked back and forth between the two of us, obviously confused. “Didn’t realize.”

“Yeah. Sorry to put the fear of Mal into you, but she’s out of bounds. Okay, man?” Ben planted a kiss on top of my head, then went that last irrevocable step too far and actually ruffled my hair like I was snotty-nosed kid. “Word with you in the bedroom, Liz?”

“Sure thing, Ben,” I said through gritted teeth.

He ushered me through the crowd, with a hand to the small of my back once more. The door to the main bedroom was closed—probably the only reason it too hadn’t filled up with people.

I didn’t say a word until he’d closed us in. Then I still didn’t say a word.

Instead, I threw my drink in his face.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, wiping apple juice out of his eyes.

“How dare you ruffle my hair like I’m your kid sister or something.” I dropped my empty glass onto the carpet. “How dare you?”

“I was doing you a favor.”

“Like hell you were.”

The man set aside his beer aside and stormed forward, towering over me. “The guy is a fucking man-whore, Liz. Nearly every night on tour he’s had a different woman.”

“What utter crap.”

“I’m not lying to you. He was flirting with you, trying to get into your pants. It’s what he does.”

“I’m not talking about him.”

Ben blinked.

“You and I, we are not together, remember? If I want to flirt with a guy, I will. It is none of your business.”

“You’re pregnant with my child.” The anger in his eyes—a smarter woman would have stepped back. Screw that. I went nose to nose with him. Well, as close as I could get to it, with the height difference. Next time we fought I was definitely bringing a ladder.

“That’s right, Ben, I’m carrying
our
child,” I said, breathing hard. “And I’m on tour to help us to figure out how to get along and be parents. Something that involves us having mutual respect for one another.”

“I got respect for you, Liz. What I haven’t got is the ability to stand by while some player tries to chat you up.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me you haven’t had sex with one of those wonderfully liberated, barely dressed ladies out there. Let me know this isn’t just some messed-up double standard you’re trying on me.”

He couldn’t do it. His lips slammed shut and he shifted, edging back, putting room between us. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Hearts are dumb like that. At least he didn’t try to give me excuses.

“No?” I asked.

Still nothing.

“We’re not together. You have no right to try and warn a guy off me. And treating me like you did—like a child, ruffling my hair, calling me ‘sweetheart’ that way.…” My eyes were itchy, turning liquid. Like hell. “How fucking dare you.”

I should have stormed out. I wanted to. The thought of losing it in front of the cool party crowd, however, stopped me cold. There had to be an alternative. Just a few minutes and I could pull myself together, go find my room. “I need to use the bathroom.”

My dignity was small, about the same size as my bladder since the invention of Bean. I pretty much had to pee constantly, so it wasn’t a complete lie, despite the sudden rising damp in my eyes. Dumb hormones. Idiot men and their god damn sperm. I strode into the grandiose bathroom and slammed the door shut. A tear trickled down my cheek, followed fast by another.

And the girl in the mirror, she still wasn’t glowing. How fucking unfair.

I went and did my business in the toilet, scrubbed my hands and then my face. All of the emotions inside of me kept building up, threatening to leak out again. This situation with Ben was doing my head in. So I did what any sensible knocked-up twenty-one-year-old college dropout would do and climbed into the massive, empty sunken tub to cool down and reassess my life. It was actually quite comfortable. In the distance I could hear the party carrying on with chatter and music. You’d think an upmarket hotel such as this would have thicker walls.

For a good five, ten minutes I sat in there, calming myself, coming to grips with the situation. Perhaps Ben and I shouldn’t talk for a while. We didn’t have to be friends to raise a child together, if indeed that’s what was going to happen. Him changing his mind on being involved would surprise approximately no one. Harsh but true.

Whatever. Come what may, I’d manage.

“Where’s Lizzy?” asked a muffled voice in the next room, male and abrupt. Jimmy Ferris. Why he’d be interested in me I had no idea.

“In the john,” said Ben. “What do you want with her?”

“Take it Mal and Anne are busy making up for lost time. Lena thought she might like to come hang with her.”

“We’re in the middle of something right now. I’ll ask her in a few.”

Jimmy snorted. “You’re having a nice chat, huh? That why you’re dripping wet and there’s an empty glass on the floor? Try again, Ben.”

“None of your fucking business.”

“You’re right about that. It’s not. But oh well…”

For a moment there was nothing, during which I strained to hear something, anything.

“Man, you are fucking shit up with her so damn bad,” said Jimmy, breaking the silence. “One way or another, this girl’s going to be in your life from now on. Way you’re playing it, won’t be in a good way.”

“What do you know about it?” growled Ben.

“What do I know about fucking up things with girls? You serious?”

No reply.

“How many times you talk to Lizzy in the last month?”

“We talk.”

“Not face-to-face or I’d have heard about it from Mal. Another fucking mess you’ve failed to fix.”

“I’m working on it,” said Ben, his voice full of anger. “I’ll smooth shit over with him.”

“Believe it when I see it.”

“Don’t lecture me on messing with the band. Where the fuck were you that last practice session before Seattle, huh?”

Jimmy scoffed. “Taking Lena to see her obstetrician. Do you even know what the hell one of them is?”

“Of course I fucking do.”

“Yeah? You taking Liz to her visits? Looking after her? ’Course not. Because if you were, every other member of this band would have a shitload more respect for you than they got right now.”

“We were heading on tour,” said Ben.

“Some things are more important, man. Take looking after the woman carrying your child, for example.”

“Jim—”

“How many times have you even called that girl since we’ve been on tour?”

“What the fuck? You a relationship counselor now?”

Jimmy laughed. “My woman isn’t throwing drinks in my face, so as far as you’re concerned, I might as well be.”

“She’s not my woman.”

“She’s the girl you put a baby in, asshole. And if she’s been going through half the shit Lena’s been dealing with, then you are just about the lowest cunt I’ve come across in a long time for making her do it alone.”

Guess Ben had no answer to that.

Have to admit, I felt bad for him. He loved these guys like brothers, and I’d been coping okay on my own, give or take. And yes, I did feel a little guilty for listening in on the conversation. Given that I was the topic, however …

“The baby’s got her moods bouncing all over the place. One minute she’s depressed as hell, worrying how we’ll deal with this, sure things are gonna go to shit and I’ll leave her. As if. Then the next, everything’s great and she’s excited again about becoming a mom.”

A pause.

“It’s hard on her, man, all the changes. And it’s scary as hell to be facing, I know.”

“Jim—”

“No. Just shut up and listen. I’m nearly finished.” Jimmy exhaled roughly. “None of us planned this. But you need to drop out of the running for dickhead of the year and get yourself sorted out before it’s too late.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

“Think, Ben. Just think. How the hell are you going to explain this to your kid in five or ten years’ time, hmm? That your baby momma doesn’t talk to you because you spent her entire pregnancy hiding behind a bottle and getting blown by groupies?”

My stomach contracted sharply. There we go. I knew he’d been with other women, of course. It still hurt, however.

“It’s not like that,” yelled Ben.

“It’s exactly like that. Give me a fucking break, dude. Just because I don’t come to your nightly soirees doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on here. Hell, anyone can see it.”

Silence again from Ben.

“I don’t know if you want her or not. But I’m telling you now, you’re gonna lose her, and you’re gonna lose your kid, and any shred of self-respect you might still have along with them. Your parents were useless, same as mine, so you know what it’s like. Get your shit together.”

The bedroom door opened, the noise from the party coming in clearer.

“Lizzy wants to hang with Lena, just bring her on over. She’s welcome any time.”

Ben didn’t reply.

Noise from the party dropped in volume once again as the bedroom door closed. Then there came the
boom.
Once, twice, three times. I stared at the bathroom door in surprise, with just a small dash of fear. It’d been damn loud.

Might be time for me to go.

“Liz, can I come in?”

“It’s not locked,” I told the door.

Ever so slowly the handle turned. Then Ben stuck his head in as if he was expecting more projectiles, liquid or otherwise, to be lobbed his way.

“It’s safe,” I said.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He said no more, instead turning to the sink to wash off his face and neck. Guess I’d done a good job of juicing him, because he stripped off the Arizona T-shirt and tossed it aside. Next, he spent some time washing his hands.

Only then did he approach. “Mind if I join you?”

I shrugged. “It’s your bath.”

With a sigh, he climbed in and sat down opposite me at the other end of the tub. I tucked my legs up, ensuring he had plenty of room without us being required to touch. He stretched out his long legs on either side of mine, gaze glued to my face. What a sight we must have made, me fully dressed in the dry tub and him in his jeans and big black boots. Man, he had a nice chest. I did my best not to notice, but some things are beyond my control. A half-naked Ben was most definitely one of them. The fight with Jim, however, concerned me. As did the raw pink knuckles of his right hand. These guys obviously enjoyed hitting walls when they got testy. I could remember Mal once doing the same. Males. So violent.

Because of course I hadn’t thrown anything at anybody lately.

“Take it you heard me and Jim fighting,” he said.

“Hard not to.”

A nod.

“He was right about one thing: it’s been a while since we talked. I mean really talked.”

“Yeah.”

No one spoke for a moment. I sure as hell wasn’t going first. Right in that moment, I just wasn’t that brave.

“I, um … shit’s been busy with the tour.” He stretched his arms out around the edge of the tub, obviously getting as comfortable as hard ceramic and the situation would allow. A small line of blood down his right hand, ignored. “Weeks leading up to it, Adrian had us talking to every damn reporter in the country. It was insane.”

“Oh.”

“The producers think the music just makes itself. Once Dave’s written the songs, they think it’s a round or two in the studio and we’re done. But that’s bullshit. Takes hours, sometimes days, to get the sound right.” Fervor shone bright in his eyes, beyond the booze and whatever. His passion for the music. “Dave used to be a perfectionist about it too, but all of the guys are distracted now, eyes on the clock, wanting to get home to their women. I’m the one sitting there with Dean and Tyler till four in the fucking morning, getting it perfect.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is. Jimmy and Mal go off onstage and Dave’s still the poet writing the songs. In the band, it’s all down to me now, though, to work the sound.” He scratched at his chin. “Know it makes me sound like a self-congratulating art geek, but it’s important, you know? Whatever we put out there, I need to know in my gut it’s the best we’ve got.”

“I can understand that.”

“Wasn’t avoiding you, Liz, but I wasn’t putting any effort into seeing you, either. You might have noticed.”

“Right.”

“Thought I’d let things with Mal and Anne calm down. That’s just another excuse, though.” Dark eyes bored into me, as if he could see my soul. Who knows, maybe he could. I always felt too open, too exposed, around him. He made me so messy with all these wants and needs. I don’t know if it was love that I felt for him or lust. But whatever it was, it sucked.

“I’m sorry, Liz,” he said, his soft, deep voice filling the room. “I said I’d have your back and I didn’t. I disappeared on you again, and this time you were actually going through shit. Serious shit.”

Huh.

“Jimmy was right. You shouldn’t have had to go through it alone.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” I turned away. A lot of emotion for one day. “I had Anne.”

“Yeah, but this is our baby, and Anne isn’t me.”

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, nice and slow, trying to calm my racing heart. It was true. His absence had left a bruise, and no amount of go-girl lectures delivered in the bathroom mirror could alter the fact.

“Is she?” he asked.

“No, Ben, she’s not.”

He slowly nodded, like something had been decided.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Talk to me.” The fingers of his left hand flicked and fiddled with the hard upper rim of the bathtub. Nerves or what, I had no idea. At least the blood from the knuckles on his right hand had dried.

“About what?”

“All the stuff I should have been hearing the past month.” The man was serious. Very much so. “No more of this useless fucking texting, Liz. Talk to me. Right now, face-to-face. Help me prove Jim wrong.”

Give him another chance.

I stared at him, lost, my brain searching for the words. Any easily retrieved information lacked in either dignity or strength. Ah, man. Could I trust him with my weaknesses and issues? That was the question.