Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (6 page)

“Damn, Sophia.”

I let out a heavy breath. Cradling her in my arms, I gently lift her up so I can bring her over to the bed. We’re not crashing here, that’s for damn sure. But my girl is spent and it’s still early. We could chill in here for a couple more hours before someone can give us a lift back to the hotel. I kiss her slow and deep one last time, before pushing off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Her body lays there, beautifully naked and shining in the dim light of the room with our sweat. Goddamn.

Walking across to the other side of the room, I step into the bathroom, flicking the switch on the wall. My eyes squint for a second to adjust to the brighter light. Yawning, I clasp my hands together and bring them up over my head, stretching. Fuck. I’m spent, too. Ripping some toilet paper off, I bring it back for Sophia. She was up less than a few minutes ago; now, she sleeps.

The sight of her causes me to stop and gaze. She’s lying on her side with her back turned toward me. Those thick locks of hers cascade off her smooth back and fall over the pillow. The look of how her hips curve and that soft, round ass…damn.

I want her again, but I know I have to wait. So instead, I walk over to the side of the bed, lowering myself down on it, using my elbow to prop my head up so I can watch my girl sleep. May sound kind of creepy, but it’s one of the many things I can’t control when it’s about her.

Everything about her right now looks at peace. Maybe I’ve never noticed before, which is hard to imagine because this woman has been in my fucking brain non-stop for over two years now. My eyes roam over every fine feature on her face, trying to figure out if she might have done something different. She didn’t change anything that I can tell. Still so fucking beautiful.

Using the back of my other hand, I gently run my knuckles down her arm. She stirs in her sleep for a moment, but then relaxes again as I do eights on her upper arm. I place a kiss on her shoulder.

“I love you, Sophia,” I whisper against her warm skin.

Sophia still lies there on her side with her eyes closed, then exhales slowly.

“I love you,” she says, her voice weak.

Closing my eyes, I moan against her skin.

“I’m never letting you go.”

I brush away a few of the strands of hair resting on her shoulder. Her body shivers, either at my touch on her or maybe the fucking words I said. I don’t know. A faded laugh creeps out her throat, almost not sounding like her at all.

“Never say never, Tristan.”

What the…?

Moving my hand up to her face, I use my index finger to trace her lips.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask her calmly.

We just fucked and I really don’t feel like getting riled up. I just want to know why she fucking thinks that. Nothing, I mean fucking nothing she can do or say will make me want to let her go. Nothing… 

Chapter Six

Sophia

“All right, fuckers! Pack the bowls and roll the fucking blunts, because it’s movie night!” Roger laughs as he pulls out a couple grams of Alaskan Thunder Fuck, breaking it up on the black coffee table.

Jeff is sitting next to him, filling his bowl. Jared is sitting across from me at the table in the corner while Matt is laid out on the floor with pillows sprawled out around him. I smile at him because the sight reminds me of a time when shit was so much simpler.

It’s been a week since I found out. A whole fucking week that has felt more like a month, feeling guilty every damn day that I haven't told Tristan about it. I hate that Frankie gives me this look like, “You can’t hide this forever” every time Tristan is around. Well, no shit! That and trying to hide the fact from my boys, too. Gawd!

After Tampa, I pretended okay. I lied that I went and saw Susan, one of the standby physician assistants that hangs with us on tour. I told everyone, even Tristan, that I had a really bad ear infection and couldn’t drink or have
sex
for ten days.

Okay, why the no sex? It’s not like I don’t fucking want it. Gawd! I have never wanted Tristan’s cock so much in my entire life as I do right fucking now, but I have to keep up with my lying ass. And everyone knows that antibiotics and birth control don’t mix. Neither does Tristan’s sperm and birth control, for that matter.
Shit.

Anyways, since I couldn’t drink, I told my boys that the ear infection has my throat so raw, even smoking sucks. Roger looked as if someone took a shit right in front of him when I told him the news.

The first few days were an emotional roller coaster. I pretty much went numb those days, but after that...that’s when it hit. The realization that everything I used to do, I suddenly can’t do anymore, is starting to take effect on me.

For instance, pot. Love it, can’t smoke now. Another one, booze. Great stuff. I’m even scared to really give ’er on stage now thinking I might fuck up something. I’m a constant wreck and I can’t have anything to calm me down, either. It really is starting to show in my moods, I think. That and the fact that my breasts hurt like nothing I can describe. Even when I wear a bra, the material rubbing against my nipples is uncomfortable.

Oh, and I’m tired as fuck all the damn time now, too. That, at least, works in my favor. It goes with me and the infection thing. Tristan though... shit. My heart hurts after shows when he wants to come back and be with me, but I just felt too guilty to be around him. Tonight I told him to just hang with his guys.

Now, I’m here as they are all about to smoke up and I have to figure out an excuse to leave the small confines of this space to have a breather. I know for a fact that anyone sitting in here right now will for sure be getting a contact buzz, even if they aren’t smoking it themselves.

I scoot out of the booth and Jared looks up at me with his big, brown eyes.

“Where you going?” he asks.

“I just gotta make a quick call,” I gesture over my shoulder with my thumb.

“For fuck’s sake, Sophie. You don’t need to be thinking of Tristan’s sack all the damn time,” Roger jokes.

Rolling my eyes and smirking at him, I head for my cove. His laughter bellows in the background.

Sliding the door shut behind me, I take a seat at the foot of my bed, resting my forearms on my thighs. The guys are beginning to smoke. I can smell the pungent, sweet smell of the weed. Worry takes over me again as I think about the baby. I’m not around them, but still even smelling it has me freaking.

I grip the black handle to the window and slide it open, the sound of wind whipping through as the bus travels at seventy miles an hour down the highway. Inhaling the fresh air deeply, I lean back and begin to feel more relaxed as the smell of the pot begins to dissipate from my room. Even though I would’ve loved to take in the glorious scent, I know it will be bad for the baby.
Baby?
Shit.

I left my phone on my bed earlier, so I decide to kill about twenty minutes checking my messages. Maybe I’ll give my parents a call. It’s been a while, and with everything that has been fucking going on, I just need to hear my mother’s voice.

Pressing send on her name, it only rings a few times before my mom answers, which surprises me because it’s already after midnight and I didn’t know if she might’ve been sleeping already.

“Sophia.”

Her voice beams into the line. My heart crashes into my chest at the sound of it.

“Hey, Mom.”

Tears instantly prick my eyes. Using the back of my hand, I wipe them away before they can even fall. Bringing my cell away from my face, I clear my throat. I swear, she can pick up anything.

“Where are you at right now?” she asks, hearing some light noise in the background.

“Um…I think right at this very second, we may be somewhere in Texas? I really don’t know, Mom. We played in Tucson last night and left this morning. I think we’re heading back up north now after tomorrow’s gig. We’re playing in Houston, then after that, driving for a while to Milwaukee.”

The hand that’s holding my phone is sweating so bad, I’m afraid the damn thing may slip. Should I tell her now? Or should Tristan be first? What’s fucked up is that he should’ve been, but I was just too gutless to do it.

“So, when do you think you will be able to come home and visit for a while?”

Another type of guilt takes over. I just saw her a month ago, but that was the first time in awhile before that. Been so fucking busy.

“Maybe between Christmas and the New Year? We’ll be on a little break before we start over in Europe. And after that we’ll have another before starting the tour in the summer.”

Which, by the way, I will be having a kid by then and I don’t even have a clue how touring with an infant will be.

“Sophia, your dad and I are so proud of you. So amazing.”

Her voice is like a warm blanket, comforting me just like when I was a kid and scared of the dark or something. My thoughts drift back to the good old days of bruised knees and kisses to make the boo-boos go away. Without realizing it, I’m silent until my mom’s voice picks up on the line again.

“Honey, is everything all right?” she asks with concern etched in her voice.

Pulling my lips into my mouth and pressing down on them, I nod.

“Yeah, Mom. Everything’s fine. Just miss you and Dad, that’s all.”

My heart tightens.

“Sophia. We miss you too, babe,” my mom says softly to me. Her voice peps up a beat. “You know what? I just knew you were made for this. Performing, I mean.”

Quietly giggling on the line, I humor her.

“Oh, yeah, ma?”

“Yes. I was around week twenty-something. I remember your dad being all into his band back then, so he would play music all the time in the house before I made him look for a ‘real’ job on the side when you were born. Anyways,” she laughs for a moment and continues, “I did what most pregnant women did back then. I would place headphones on my belly and wait. That night, as I was lounging on the couch, your dad sat next to me writing some new material for his band while Guns and Roses'
Sweet Child o
’
Mine
was playing. And that’s when I felt you for the first time.”

I can practically hear the glow in my mom’s voice and that alone erases everything right now. Her voice sounds so light, but it cracks at the end. Clearing her own throat, she goes on softly.

“That’s when I knew my sweet child; I knew right then what you were going to do with your life.” She starts laughing. “You would not stop fluttering all over inside my belly and I just remember feeling then, how wonderful you are. I can’t really describe it to you, my girl, but feeling you right then, I knew why I was put here on this Earth. You make me so proud every single day. I just knew it.”

I didn’t notice I was squeezing the phone up to my ear as tears steadily flowed down my cheeks. I hope I’ll still make her proud.

“Mama…” I whisper so she won’t hear the sadness in my voice. “I love you.”

“Aw, my sweet girl. I love you, too. Now, get some rest. You know I don’t like all that partying you’ve been putting your body through with this tour.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Smudge yourself too, babe. You still have your sage and sweet grass, right?”

My mom, being native, grew up with traditional ways.

“Yeah, Mom. I’ll do that right now.”

“All right, then. Tell the boys I said hi…and Tristan, too.”

I can literally hear her smirking into the phone. It’s not that she doesn’t like Tristan; she does. It’s just that she’s my mom and wants to make sure he is right for me. Well, hopefully, because I’m going to be having his child in the summer.   

I say goodbye to her and talk to my dad for a minute before hanging up. Even though I’m still suffocating with this secret, I do feel a little better now hearing their voices. Soon, I tell myself. It will all be out soon.

Twisting behind me, I plug my phone on the charger and get up to head back out to my boys. Lazily, I stand up, stretching out before making my way over to the cheap, full body length mirror. My thumbs and fingers feel the hem of the soft, white cotton tank that I’m wearing.

Raising it up slightly, I push down on my plaid pajama shorts and stare at my stomach. To the naked eye, my body still looks the same, but I already notice a difference. Frankie calls it being bloated, but already, my body is changing.

Tracing my fingertips below my bellybutton, I close my eyes. I have Tristan growing inside me. My body being used as a safe temple so our child can grow. It’s up to me to protect it. Even though I’m scared shitless, something washes over me and I want to break down and cry. My lip trembles as I stare at my midsection in the mirror, constantly feeling my lower stomach, wanting to feel my baby.

Running my tongue over my tear soaked lips, I whisper to myself, well... to my baby.

“I love you.”

Taking a step back, I fix my clothing before heading out. As I step out into the hazy hallway, I hear Roger.

“Okay, I pick tonight since Matt chose last time. Which, my friend, was an excellent choice.”

Roger, with his squinty eyes, leans over the coffee table and fist bumps Matt real quick. Leaning against the cushions of the sofa again, he crosses his leg over so that his right ankle is resting on his left knee, getting comfortable.

“Jared, you’ll have to watch the Secret Garden on your laptop or something,” he laughs.

Jared, of course, is not even paying attention to Roger, just zoning out on one of his musician friend’s magazines.

“It’s gay that you even know a movie called that,” he mumbles, not glancing up.

“Fuck you, man,” Roger chuckles.

“Ha ha. I knew you liked that shit, fucker.”

Scooting back into the booth, I take a sip from my water and lock eyes with Roger.

“So, what do you have planned, then?”

I quirk my eyebrow up at him, a teasing smile playing on my lips. Roger grins back before snapping his fingers.

“
Orgasmo!
”

Jesus. That’s the kind of movie that’s so dumb, it’s funny. Smiling back at him, I shake my head.

Jeff sets it up and moments later, the obnoxious theme song starts playing through the speakers. By the time the movie finishes, we have devoured four bags of popcorn, a bag of Doritos, and a pizza from earlier. Matt and Jeff are half sitting, half lying on the floor with Roger hogging up most of the couch. Jared is passed out with his head in his folded arms, lying flat against the table top. I’m actually surprised at how much fun I had with my boys, just chilling like this with everything’s that’s been going on.

“Well, boys, I think I’m calling it a night,” I say to them as I stand.

“Really?” Roger asks.

Picking up the paper plates that are scattered around the table, I begin doing a light clean up before going to bed.

“Yeah, I’m beat,” I say to him over my shoulder. Matt and Jeff say good night as they get out their Xbox controllers, but Roger… his face is impassive as he stares at me.

“You feeling okay, Sophie?”

I don’t know why, but his question throws me off. I pause for a brief moment before tossing the plates in the trash hidden in the cupboard.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I don’t look at him in his eyes, though, focusing on the task at hand. Need to escape to my cove now.

“It’s just that, I don’t know…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

Closing the cupboard door lightly, I look back at him, giving him a weak smile. No fucking way Roger can pick up on this shit, because if someone like him who’s oblivious to everything, can, that means others may, too.

“Just a stupid ear infection. I’m fine,” I lie to him again.

His face relaxes as he shrugs his shoulders, running a hand down his stubbled face.

“Yeah, I know.” He shakes his head real quick, waving me off. “Whatever. Forget it,” he says more to himself, which has me frozen.