Falling Stars (56 page)

"Well
these have grown." He smiled against my lips.

"You
are such a –"

He
ran his thumb over my sensitive nipple and I moaned. He attacked my mouth
again.

"Mia?"
Kat called through the door.

Christopher
groaned and rolled back to his position next to my stomach.

"Yeah,"
I called out breathlessly.

She
walked into the room and grinned at Christopher.

"What's
up?"

"Are
you hungry?"

"Not
too much, why?"

"Well
I was thinking –" Then she gave me a look.

"Mama
Casa's?"

Kat
giggled and nodded.

"Oh
god, I love you!" I rolled off the bed. Turning back to Christopher, who
looked amused by my reaction, "You hungry?"

He
chuckled, "sure."

"Want
me to place the usual order?" I nodded. Christopher pulled me back down
next to him.

"Don't
leave me yet. Kat can order it." He snuggled back up to my side.

"Can
we talk for a second?" I asked when Kat left the room.

"Of
course," he said hesitantly.

"Are
you still seeing doctor J?" I chewed on my lip.

"Um…I
haven't since I left the rehab, why?"

"I
think you should continue to see him," I shrugged.

"I'm
good Mia, I swear…now that I'm with you I'll be even better." He tried to
reassure.

"Christopher,
you attacked him." I looked at him. "I mean like animalistic attack."
I placed my hand on the side of his furrowed face.

"I'm
glad you got more help, but you need to make sure you still see and/or talk to
the doctor."

"Ok,
fine," he mumbled.

"No,
Christopher, promise me you'll still see him. Please?" I brought my other
hand up to the other side of his face. "Please?" I begged.

He
covered my hands with his.

"Of
course I will. How can I say no to you?" He smiled and pressed his lips to
mine.

Over
the next few weeks, Christopher was with me every day. I worked on the song and
he started to work on it with me. Kat even sat in to play guitar a couple of
times so we could work out the lyrics together. It was really coming together,
even if we had to stop and argue every fifteen minutes.

Living
together in a homelike situation was a revelation for us both. I learned a lot
about Christopher. First, he was a slob, which was driving me crazy. I was a
bit obsessive about having order and being clean, but he would leave his socks
in the living room, clothes on the floor, wet towel on the bed, food wrappers
and cups everywhere.

"You're
an adult, clean up after yourself!"

"It's
just a cup. Why don't you have a maid around here to take care of the house?"
he argued.

"Seriously?
You're seriously going to justify being a slob on the fact that you don't have
a maid? Unbelievable! You are fucking unbelievable!" I stomped up the
stairs.

Second,
Christopher hated the smell of fingernail polish and remover. Hell, he hated
the smell of everything. He would growl when I would paint my toenails.

"That
shit smells horrible. I don't think you should inhale it while you're pregnant."
He growled.

"Oh,
shut up. It's just fingernail polish. I'm just thankful I can still reach my
damn feet at this point." I

He
climbed out of bed with his pillow.

"I'll
be on the couch," he snarled and headed toward the door. "Let me know
when you're done poisoning my baby."

"Yeah,
sure, that's what I'll do." I rolled my eyes. When I was done, I left him
on the couch.

Third,
he couldn't stand the toothpaste tube squeezed from the middle. I made sure we
got the kind in the plastic bottle going forward, because I wasn't going to
listen to it.

Fourth,
he was a sneaky bastard. It took an entire day for me to realize he'd hired a
cleaning person. On top of that, he scheduled her hours so I would be less
likely to run into her.

"Are
you really that lazy?" I criticized.
Blame the hormones.

"It's
practical. I've had one for years. It's what I'm used to." He shrugged.

"How
about tell me about shit like this next time, so I don't just happen upon some
random woman in the house?" I lectured before leaving him in the living
room by himself.

There
were so many things to learn about each other and to get used to. At one point
he couldn't handle having sex with me because he thought it would hurt the
baby. I was about to snap. I was beyond sexually frustrated and he wouldn't do
anything to help me.

Now
deep down I knew I was over reacting, but part of me couldn't help but assume
he wasn't attracted to me now that I was the size of a blimp. Every time he
rejected my physical attempts, because of his fear, I would roll over and
silently cry until it just got to be too much.

After
one night where I practically begged him to touch me and he still couldn't do
it, I got up and left. I ended up spending most of the night in the studio of
the house playing the guitar and working on lyrics. I hadn't heard him enter,
so when his hand touched my shoulder I jumped.

"Don't
do that!" I growled. "Do you want to send me into early labor?"
I was frustrated and snapping.

"What's
going on?" He knelt down beside me.

"Nothing,"
I answered curtly.

"Mia?"

"I
couldn't sleep" Shrugging, I continued to strum my guitar.

He
grabbed the guitar and pulled it off my lap.

"What
do you want from me, Christopher?" I huffed.

"I
want you to tell me what the fuck your problem is." He sighed. "I get
that you're emotional right now, but what is going on?"

"Nothing
is going on. Nothing at all."

"What
the hell does that mean? I don't do cryptic messages." His tone laced with
acid.

"You
don't do forward advances either!" I snapped. "Look, just leave me to
my guitar so I can work out my frustrations without taking them out on you."
I reached for my guitar and he grabbed my arm.

"What
are you frustrated about?" His tone had changed to worried and confused.

"A
lot of things," I mumbled, still trying to get the guitar from him.

"Me?"
His nervousness choked the question out of him.

"Christopher…please,
just let me be. I really don't feel like arguing." I slipped my arm out of
his grip, picked up the guitar, and moved over to another seat to play. He sat
there for a while staring at me, but I ignored him while strumming and writing.

"Mia?"

"Hmmm?"

"I
can't make it better if you don't talk to me," he snapped.

"There's
nothing you can do to make it better, so don't worry about it." I said
nonchalantly.

"Damn
it! Talk to me!" His hands hit the floor. I turned around and looked at him.

"Sorry,"
he mumbled. "I'm just completely…you're so damn frustrating." He ran
his hand through his bed head.

"Go
back to bed, I'll be up in a little while," I said flatly and turned back
to my lyrics.

After
a few moments, he stood and left. Once he was gone, I cried. I knew I was being
bitchy, but I just couldn't help it. Hours later, I couldn't think of anything
but sleep, so I trudged to bed and quickly fell asleep.

The
next morning Christopher rolled over, wrapped his arms around me, and pressed
the front of his body to mine. Not only was his hard body against my side, but
so was the steel rod between his legs. I groaned internally and shifted away
from him. He tensed.

"Okay,
that's it. What the fuck is wrong?" He growled at the back of my head.

"It's
too early," I groaned.

"Answer
me. I can't take you cringing away from me." The hurt in his voice was
hard to hear. I sighed.

"I
didn't cringe away."

"Oh
and what would you call it?" He rolled to his back, making the bed shake.

Rolling
over, I propped myself up on some pillows while yawning.

"Shifting."

"Give
me a fucking break!"

"Look,
I could feel your dick against my side and you sure as hell aren't going to use
it, so I needed to not feel that! Okay? Feel better now?" Yelling, I got
out of the bed. I'd stunned him into silence because he didn't say one word as
I headed to the bathroom.

Standing
in the shower, I let the hot water and my own fingers assist in easing my
frustration. It'd started to become routine in order to get any release from
the frustration. It still wasn't what I wanted. After showering, I went back
out to the bedroom for clothes. Christopher was still lying on the bed. He
looked over when I entered.

"What?"

"Nothing,"
he mumbled.

I
grabbed some clothes and went back to the bathroom to get dressed. I slid on my
clothes, but not before looking in the mirror at the completely unfamiliar and
misshapen body. I wiped a tear away, pulled my hair up in a ponytail and
decided to bury my feelings in food.

"Mia?"

"Yeah?"
I turned at the door.

"I
love you," he said in a hurt tone.

"Love
you too," I said flatly and went down to the kitchen.

Sitting
at the breakfast bar eating my second full plate was when Christopher appeared
next to me.

"There
are still some pancakes over there," I nodded toward the counter and
chewed on a bite keeping my eyes on the open book next to my plate.

Before
I could take another bite, Christopher swiveled me around in my chair, lifted
my chin, and crashed his lips to mine. His tongue danced against my lips and I
allowed him to continue his dance behind my lips. I almost moaned into his
mouth, but he pulled away panting and smiling at me.

"W-what
was that for?" I panted. He shrugged.

"Just
because I love you," He walked over and grabbed some food.

I
finished eating and went to the living room couch, getting comfortable with my
book. Kat appeared fully dressed with her bag.

"What's
up?" I looked over her and the bag.

"I
need to make a small trip," she smiled. "I'll be back in a couple of
days, okay?"

I
nodded. She kissed the top of my head and headed toward the front door. I went
back to my book.

"Did
Kat just leave?"

My
eyes snapped up quickly to Christopher, who was freshly damp from the shower
and leaning against a doorframe with a crooked smile. I could feel myself get
hot just by looking at him.

"Yeah,
she'll be back in a couple of days." I smiled and turned back to my book.

I
was about to finish a chapter about breast feeding when the book was pulled out
of my hands and Christopher placed himself between my knees.

"What
are you doing?" I laughed.

"Nothing,"
he grinned and tossed the book. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my
jaw.

"Christopher?"
He ran his hand to the back of my neck and firmly fist in my hair.

"Hmm?"
The vibration against my jaw was almost too much.

"You
need to stop," I groaned at my words and at his actions. "Seriously I
can't take it." I panted.

"I
want you," he growled. I pushed him back and looked into his face.

"What?"

"You
heard me," he smiled. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm
not going to guilt you into something you are uncomfortable with. It's okay, I
took care of it." Patting his arm, tried to stand up, but he gently pulled
me back to the couch.

"You
took care of it?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

I
raised my right hand and wiggled my fingers at him. His eyes widened a little.

"When?"
His voice was full of curiosity and, I swear, excitement. Typical guy, I rolled
my eyes.

"This
morning," he was about to open his mouth again, but I answered what I knew
was his next question, "Shower."

"When
I was just out there lying in bed?"

I
nodded and shrugged. He groaned.

"I
want you," he kissed me roughly before pulling back to look into my eyes. "I
always want you." He kissed me deeply and then pulled back again. "I
was letting my stupid nervousness prevent me from doing what I've been dying to
do for weeks."

And
with that, he stripped us of our clothes and took me on the couch in the living
room. My fingers had not done nearly close to what he could do to me. Our
sweaty bodies were sticking together and to the couch when he pulled his head
up from my bare chest.