Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2) (19 page)

“Seriously, how much of our minutes per week together do you want to be passed out for?” I asked him, my voice quiet.
 

Dean still heard, and of course made a few inflammatory comments.
 

“Enough,” Tristan told me, his voice low and mean.
 
“Not another word.
 
I don’t want to hear it.
 
You’ve sucked my dick way too many times to be acting like my mother.”
 

That was it.
 
I was done.
 

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left.
 

I was at the car when I felt him behind me.
 

I whirled on him, glaring.
 

“That was so completely out of line,” I told him, my voice near a shout.
 

He threw his arms up in the air, his expression conciliatory.
 
“I know.
 
I’m sorry.
 
As soon as the words left my mouth, I was sorry.
 
I’ve been in a foul mood, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.
 
Dean is more than I can take right now.”
 

“Forget Dean.
 
He’s bad for you.
 
Can’t you see that?
 
You should be staying as far away from him as you can.”

“It’s a bit late for that now.
 
I’m fucking stuck with him, thanks to this record deal.”
 
His tone changed, his eyes getting soft.
 
I could never fight those soft golden eyes of his.
 
“But you’re right.
 
Let’s forget about him.”
 
He moved close, pulling me against his chest, his big hand stroking over my hair with a feather light touch.
 

I let myself relax against him for a moment, unable to resist him for long, as usual.
 
“The drinking has gotten out of hand, Tristan, and I don’t even want to know what else you’ve been using.
 
Can’t you stay away from it all for even the few days you see me?
 
Because if you can’t, that’s a good sign there’s a problem.”
 

“No, no, I can stay away.
 
You’re right.
 
I’ll lay off it, sweetheart.
 
I’m just wound up so tight.
 
Things have been tense.
 
I can quit any time, though.
 
Stopping on the weekends is no problem.”
 

My stomach tried to tie itself into some elaborate knots.
 
Even he didn’t sound convinced.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his hands rubbing my shoulders.
 
“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Do you have any idea how much shit I will take from Dean about that comment you made?” I complained after we’d been standing like that for a while.
 
“He didn’t need an excuse to talk nasty to me, but you’ve given him one.”
 

“What the fuck does that mean?” he said tersely, pulling back, his mood changing with a few short sentences.
 
“What’s he been saying to you?”
 

I immediately backpedaled.
 
Someone needed to kick Dean’s ass, but it didn’t need to be Tristan.

“Never mind,” I murmured, cuddling back into his chest.
 

He backed away.
 
“No.
 
I want to know what you’re talking about.”

I dug in stubbornly.
 
“It’s stupid.
 
Pointless to talk about when we have so many other things to discuss.”
 

“What things?”
 

“The fact that you’re always late.
 
And more and more, you don’t answer my calls.
 
The fact that you’re abusing your body on a regular basis.
 
I’m not even seeing the half of it, but what I’ve seen is worrisome, and you tell me all the time that it’s worse when we’re apart.
 
I think we need to look into some sort of grief counseling for you…and I think you need to start looking into getting some help for the substance abuse.”
 

He went stiff, his eyes going icy.
 
“You just can’t help it, can you?
 
Will you let up on the nagging for five fucking minutes?”
 

Without another word, he stormed off.

I felt like I’d been slapped.
 
I stood there, stunned, for a long time, before I followed him.

I couldn’t figure out where
that
had come from.
 
I didn’t think I nagged.
 
In fact, I’d gone out of my way not to mention any of his bad habits, especially where alcohol was concerned, for a long time.
 
I felt almost guilty at all the things I’d overlooked in my sympathy for what he was going through.
 

I was hurt by his words, but even so, I followed behind him.

He had too many weapons against me.
 
Showing me his worst, then his best, followed by his withdrawal.
 
Cold, then hot, then gone.
 
His arsenal was too much for my smitten self, custom set to push all of my buttons.
 

It was a fact that I’d do just about anything to get more of his best.
 

It took me a long time to track him down.
 
The apartment was small and crowded, and I kept getting stopped by the people I knew at the party to talk about costumes and the band.
 

I finally found him in the kitchen, talking to Kenny.
 
I nodded at Kenny before moving to Tristan’s side, eyeing him carefully.
 

His face was stiff and blank, but he threw his arm around my shoulders as soon as I was within reach, kissing me on the head, and murmuring a barely perceptible, ”I’m sorry,” into my hair.
 

“S’okay,” I whispered back.
 

“I’m an ass.”
 

I smiled in spite of myself.
 
“Only sometimes.”
 

“Let’s do something special next weekend.
 
I know a guy with a place on the beach.
 
Let’s go take a weekend for ourselves.”

I turned on him, smiling brilliantly.
 
“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”
 

“And I’ll cool off on the booze.
 
For you.”
 

I hugged him as hard as my skinny arms were able to.
 
“Love you.
 
More than you know.”
 

“Right back at you, sweetheart.
 
I’d be lost without you.”
 

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.
 
An affectionate peck had been my intent, but it wasn’t Tristan’s.
 
We were making out with no shame between one breath and the next.
 

Kenny had been standing somewhere close to chat with Tristan, but we never even excused ourselves.
 
In fact, we never got another glance at him after that.
 

My arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair.
 

His hands went to my ass, pressing our bodies as close as they would go.
 
We were nowhere close to private, but his hands working on my butt had me moaning out loud.
 

He pulled back, cursing, laughing.
 
“Come on,” he muttered, tugging me out of the kitchen with his hand.
 
He led me into the hallway bathroom, slamming the door shut behind us, and pulling me hard against him.
 

“I can’t wait.
 
It’s been so long,” he muttered, turning me to face the sink.
 

“We should have taken the edge off before we left your place.”
 
I smiled.
 

“No shit.
 
What were we thinking?”
 

I didn’t mention that he’d been drunk.
 
I didn’t want to spoil the moment.
 

He bent me over the bathroom sink, pushing up my red kimono and rocking hard into me.
 

I gripped the faucet for dear life, crying out his name.
 
Even knowing we’d get grief for it later, I couldn’t seem to keep quiet.
 
It just felt too good, too perfect, the rough glide of him, in and out, in and out, his hands gripping my hips, holding me perfectly still while he rammed in and dragged out, over and over.
 

“This right here,” he rasped out with one long thrust, “this is what I fucking live for.
 
So good, Danika, so fucking good.”
 

I was embarrassed after.
 
We’d made a scene and then a racket.
 
I blushed even as we cleaned up.
 
I didn’t want to show my face after that, but there was no emergency exit out of the bathroom, so we didn’t have much choice.
 

Tristan was grinning like a fool when he saw my pink cheeks.
 
“If anyone harasses you about it, I’ll kick their ass, okay?”
 

I rolled my eyes.
 
“I hope you’re joking.”
 

It was hours before we got out of there, and I could have sworn I was blushing the whole time.

Tristan lay on his back, hands folded behind his head.
 
We were back in his apartment, in his bed, and I was cupping him in my hand, laying half on top of him to watch his face.
 

His eyes were hooded, his tone unreadable.
 
“Go ahead, Danika, make it all better.”

“What does that mean?”
 

“It means that, aside from you, my life is shit.
 
So please, if you love me, do what you do, and make me forget that for a while.”

He broke my heart when he said things like that.
 

I kissed his chest, his hands, his abs, soft, loving kisses.
 
If I could have healed him with my devotion, he would stop hurting, and I tried to show him that with every tender touch.
 

My touch was just as soft as I gripped his hard length, and took him into my mouth.
 
His touch was not soft at all as he gripped my hair and growled for me to suck harder.
 

Normally, in fact, always that I could remember, he would have reciprocated, but he didn’t that night.
 
Instead, the taste of him lingering in my mouth, he fell asleep, still cupped in my hands.
 

I lay awake for a long time, stroking his hair, watching him sleep, like a mama bear with a cub, knowing he was slipping away, knowing he was on the wrong path, a path that was bad for him and agonizing over what I could do to help him.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DANIKA

The woman caught my eye as the waiter led us to our seats.
 
It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining down and an ocean breeze that made it pleasant rather than hot.
 
The California coast was a marked and pleasant change from Vegas.
 

She was an attractive woman, with dark hair and an engaging smile, but that wasn’t why I couldn’t seem to look away.
 
She was pregnant, her hand stroking over her belly lovingly as she laughed over something with her girlfriend.
 
I’d always thought pregnant women were adorable, and, more and more, I got an ache in my chest just seeing a woman heavy with child.
 

Tristan noticed my distraction before I’d even had time to unfold my napkin into my lap.
 
He caught my hand across the small table to get my attention, giving me a questioning smile.
 
He wasn’t drunk or strung out today.
 
In fact, he looked healthy and sober, smiling and tan.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he teased.
 

My mouth twisted ruefully.
 
“Not worth it.
 
You’ll just make fun of me.”
 

He squeezed my hand.
 
“I will not.
 
I promise.
 
Now tell me what has you so distracted from me on our romantic getaway.”

I nodded my head subtly toward the woman across the courtyard.
 

He followed my motion, but just looked more confused.
 

“I was just thinking that a happy pregnant woman has it all.
 
What could be better than that?
 
Having a life growing inside of you, knowing that you’ll have this little soul to love for the rest of your days.”
 

His smile turned so soft on me.
 
Melt your insides soft.
 
“You want a baby, sweetheart?”
 

I frowned at him.
 
“Don’t joke about things like that.
 
It’s cruel.”
 

“I wasn’t joking.
 
The second you tell me you want a baby, I’ll get to work on it.
 
I thought you’d want to wait a few years, maybe finish college, but I’m more than fine with starting a family now.
 
Whaddya say?”

My heart had started trying to pound its way out of my chest at his first sentence.
 
I sat in stunned silence for a good five minutes while I processed his words.
 

“I have to say, dead silence was not the reaction I was hoping for.”
 

I chewed on my lip, still silent, just studying his face like it held all of the answers.
 
Finally, when I did speak, my voice was less than steady.
 
“I still can’t tell if you’re joking.”