More Than Once (15 page)

“He says he wants me to be happy, but he also says we can’t afford it. He’s barely making enough now to cover the bills, and he still has another year of law school. I could try to get a job, but without any experience or degree it wouldn’t pay much, and then we’d have to pay for childcare, too…” She shook her head. “No, it’s just not possible. Not right now.”

“Mom and Dad would help you. Both with the money and with taking care of Hannah.”

“I know they would if I asked, but they’re already helping you and I can’t do that to them.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I just know I can’t go on like this much longer. I need to do something more with my life or I’ll go mad.”

I couldn’t stand to see my sister upset, especially knowing that this was causing problems in her marriage. Sure, maybe she’d sometimes wondered “what if,” but I knew she and Matt loved each other and would be even more miserable apart. They were soul mates, and he was a great husband and a wonderful father.

I still remembered the day she’d told me she loved him, back when we were seventeen. A boy had accused me of cheating off his test because I wouldn’t give him a blowjob—yeah, I’d had sort of a bad reputation in high school—and Matt and Trish had convinced the principal it was all a lie and that I shouldn’t be disciplined. Instead, they’d gotten the guy written up for sexual harassment.

When it was over, Trish and I had stood outside the school office, pinkies locked together, while Matt had finished speaking to the principal in the other room.

“I’m going to marry him someday,” she’d said, and her eyes had gleamed with love.

A year later, it was the truth. It might not have happened the way they’d planned, but I’d never had any doubts it was meant to be.

When I’d been at my lowest point, they’d let me come live with them. Both Matt and Trish had welcomed me with open arms, no questions asked, giving me a place to rest my head and the means to get my life back together. Never once had they implied I was overstaying my welcome or that I owed them in any way, even though I often felt bad for how much I abused their kindness.

Matt was like a brother to me after all these years. But my sister had always been my rock, the one who bailed me out of trouble every time, who soothed my worries and told me everything would be okay. I would do anything,
anything
, to help her in return.

“What if Mom and Dad gave you the money for college instead of me?” I asked slowly.

She grabbed my hands, staring into my face with a stern expression. “No. Don’t even consider that. I would never take that away from you. Never.”

“I don’t want to go if it’s at your expense.”

“But it’s your dream and you deserve it. Mom and Dad will help me out when they can. Until then, don’t you worry your pretty head about me, okay? Matt and I will figure it out. We always manage somehow. Maybe there are online classes I can take or…”

“What would you major in?” I asked. “If you did go?”

“English,” she said instantly. “I want to be an English teacher. Or a librarian.” She let out a soft sigh, her expression dreamy. “I’d love to get a master’s in library science. Can you imagine? Spending the entire day surrounded by books, helping people find their next great read? I can’t think of anything better.”

It was the perfect career for her. Books made her happy in the same way that music made me happy. Even though we didn’t share the same passion, we had always understood that about each other.

I remembered Andrew’s words from dinner and how I’d had no answer to his question about what I wanted to do with a college degree. The truth was, it had never even occurred to me. I had no burning desire to graduate and go on to become a lawyer or an engineer or work in an office or anything else I could think of. I’d set a goal of going to college because it’s what I figured “good girls” were supposed to do. But did I really want that for myself? Was that really my dream?

Trish was so sure about what she wanted for her future. But me? I didn’t know who I was if I wasn’t a musician. I’d tried to give it up, but it was impossible. I was born to play bass, and I wanted it more than anything else. A few minutes alone with my bass guitars had reminded me of that fact.

I had to talk to my parents.

I had to find Andrew.

But before I did anything else, I had to call Hector.

I
spent all day pacing around my apartment, trying to figure out what to do about Becca. It was a Sunday, so I didn’t even have work to distract me from her or from how much I’d screwed things up between us. For hours, I debated whether I should stand outside Becca’s house until she agreed to talk to me again or whether I should give her space. I’d asked her to go slow with me, yet now I wanted to rush to win her back, no matter what it took. I was such a mess.

God, maybe it was better if it was over between us. I’d go back to work tomorrow as Andrew, who didn’t take shit from anyone and didn’t let anyone in. Andrew, who never let anyone get close enough to break his heart. Andrew, who was alone and completely miserable.

Before I could decide, I heard a sound outside my window—a low, deep hum that seemed to pulse through my bones.

A bass guitar.

I ran to the window and threw it open. The mid-afternoon air was crisp and clouds were gathering in the sky, but Becca stood on the grass outside my apartment building under the canopy of trees. She wore a tight black dress with her beat-up combat boots, and her pale hair blew freely in the wind while she played an acoustic bass.

As she plucked out the notes, she didn’t seem to notice I was watching her. Then she started to sing, and her clear, beautiful voice stole my breath away. It took me a second to realize what the song was—that Mariah Carey song, “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” I remembered it from that one English movie my mom always watched during the holidays. Somehow it totally worked on the bass guitar.

Her eyes lifted to my window, and her face burst into a hesitant smile when she saw I was watching. She kept singing and playing, staring up at me as words fell from her lips and music was born from her fingertips—and it hit me that she was doing this for
me
. She wanted
me
for Christmas.

I couldn’t wait a second longer. I dashed out of my apartment, not even bothering to shut the door behind me, and ran down the stairs and out the front of the building.

By the time I reached her, she was near the end of the song, and people had stopped to gather nearby on the sidewalk, while others watched from their windows or balconies. She didn’t seem to care one bit, and I loved her confidence. She inspired me to be confident, too.

I walked right up to Becca, took her face in my hands, and kissed the song right off her lips. Her hands slipped off the bass and slid into my hair, and she gave a soft moan as we clung to each other. The guitar was in the way and people around us clapped and whistled, but I barely noticed because Becca was in my arms and in my mouth and in my life and I never wanted to let her go.

“You have me,” I said. “I’m yours, for Christmas and New Year’s and Valentine’s Day and… Crap, what holiday comes after that?”

She laughed, pulling the bass off her shoulder and returning to my arms. “You didn’t let me finish the song.”

I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer to kiss you, but you were amazing. You’re really good, and your voice…it’s incredible.”

“Eh, I’m not
that
good.”

“No, you are. I’ve never heard you play before today, but I can tell. You were definitely meant to do this.”

“Okay, you’re right,” she said with a sly grin. “I am pretty damn good.”

I rubbed my thumb across her lips, staring into her dark eyes. “I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me after last night.”

“I just needed some time to cool off and to think about what you said.” She traced a finger along the side of my glasses and down my rough, unshaven jaw. “I called Villain Complex. I’m going to do the New Year’s Eve show.”

“You are?”

She nodded. “You were right. The second I picked up my bass guitar again I knew I had to say yes. I won’t be happy doing anything else with my life, and I can’t give up on that dream so easily. I have to try again, at least once more. I’m driving to Austin tomorrow to start practicing with them for the next few days. And once the show is over, I’m going to find another band. Or who knows? Maybe I’ll start my own.”

I was so damn proud of her for coming to this decision and pleased that I’d helped in some way. I wanted Becca to be happy, and it was obvious music was the key. “That’s a great idea. But what are you going to do about college?”

“I told my parents to give the money to my sister instead. She wants to be a librarian.”

My mouth fell open, and I struggled for words. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“She needs the money more than I do, and she’ll put it to better use. I know in my gut that this is right. College isn’t for me. I gave it a shot, but we weren’t a good fit. But Trish? She’ll love it.”

“I imagine she will. That’s really nice of you to do that for her.”

“It’s all because of you. You pushed me to ask myself what I wanted and to believe that maybe I deserved a second chance. That we
both
do.”

She gripped the front of my shirt and pulled me in for another kiss. The first hint of snow began to softly fall on us, even though the sun was still peeking out overhead, but neither of us seemed to care. We were too wrapped up in each other.

But as the wind kicked up and the snow came down faster, I realized neither one of us had a jacket on. I rubbed her bare arms with my hands. “What are you doing out here in the snow with no coat on? You must be freezing.”

She shrugged. “I was trying to be romantic or some shit.”

“By freezing to death?”

“Hey, I’ve never done anything like this before. Besides, I have a pretty good idea how you can get me warmed up,” she said as she ran her hand down my chest. Her eye caught on the logo on my shirt, and she cocked her head to the side. “You’re not wearing a coat either, just a really geeky polo shirt. Is that the Imperial logo from
Star Wars
?”

“I’m so impressed you recognized that,” I said, taking her hand and kissing her cold fingers. “Let’s go inside and get you warmed up.”

I led her up the stairs and into my apartment, much like I’d done last night. As soon as we were inside, she set her bass down and I drew her into my arms, giving her a long, deep kiss—but I pulled away before it could go further. I didn’t want a repeat of last night’s quick fuck in the dark, not today. And before we could have a future together, I wanted to prove to her that I had moved on, too.

“Wait here,” I said. “I need to show you something.”

I went into the bedroom while she studied my wall-to-wall bookshelf, which was crammed with so many books I was surprised it didn’t topple over. Much like her sister’s, actually.

When I returned, she saw the ring box in my hands and her eyes widened. “Andrew, I…”

“I’m not going to propose or anything, don’t worry,” I said quickly. “But for months, I couldn’t even think about this ring without falling apart. Last night, when you asked me if I was over Tara, I didn’t have an answer for you. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I had to prove to myself that I was truly over her.” I opened the box, and the diamond ring inside flashed under the fading sunlight. “I made myself look at the ring, and that’s when I knew I had moved on—because instead of thinking about how it should have been Tara wearing it, I was able to imagine myself giving it to someone else eventually. Not now. Not anytime soon. But…someday.” I closed the ring box and shoved it in my pocket. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m over her. And I want the possibility of more. With you.”

The most beautiful smile lit up her face. “You do?”

I moved closer and took her hands in mine. “I still want to take things slow and see what happens, but I’m not going to pretend I can keep things casual with you. I want to take you on more dates, to fancy restaurants and movie theaters and little hole-in-the-wall places no one knows about. I want to take you back to my place at the end of each date and make love to you for hours. I want to be the guy you exchange presents with and take home to meet your parents.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Technically, I already took you home to meet my parents. Pretty sure you passed that test.”

“Yeah, but this time I want them to call me by my real name.” I slid a hand to the back of her head, my fingers weaving into her short hair. “What do you say, Becca? Will you give me one more date?”

“No,” she said. “I’ll give you as many as you want.”

When we kissed, my heart seemed to grow a thousand times bigger. She was giving me another chance, giving
us
another chance. “In that case, how about we order some food—your choice this time—and have our second date right now?”

“That depends,” she said, cocking her head to the side. Her hands roamed down my chest and to my jeans, tugging the button open. “Can we start with the making-love-for-hours part first?”

“Yes, although I have to warn you, you’re going to be
very
hungry when I’m done with you.” I brushed my lips across her earlobe as I spoke. “I’m going to go slow, worshipping every part of your body, making you come a dozen times, until there’s no doubt that I’m yours and you’re mine.”

She shivered a little at my words. “We should get started on that right away then. But I have one request.”

“Anything you want.”

“Keep these on.” She touched the edge of my glasses. “And be Andy with me tonight.”

My breath hitched. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I want you to be the good guy sometimes.” She smoothed her hand down my cheek, across the stubble on my jaw. “I love it when you’re bad, too. Hard and rough, sweet and slow, I love it all from you. But the first time I wanted you, you were the nice guy I met in that club, who wore geeky polo shirts and turned out to have a secret dark side, and that’s who I want again now.”