All for This (3 page)

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper into her hair.

“F
UCK, IT’S
good to see you.” Asher pulls me in for a hug and slaps me on the back.

“You too.”

Maggie waits behind him, half sniffling, half smiling, and when Asher doesn’t release me soon enough for her liking, she pulls him off me and curls into me. “You scared the shit out of us,” she growls into my chest.

I grin and stroke her hair. “I think your girl likes me, Asher.”

He grunts, and Maggie says, “Shut up, Crane. You couldn’t handle me.”

“No doubt,” I mutter.

She pulls out of my arms, grabs me by the wrist, and leads me into the kitchen while Asher takes my bags up the stairs.

After pouring herself a shot of tequila, she hands one to me. I throw it back without question. I haven’t had anything alcoholic to drink since the night Hanna showed up at my house in LA, only half of her memory intact. I relish the warmth of the alcohol as it sinks to my stomach.

“What the fuck happened?” she asks. “How was it that you weren’t on that helicopter?”

Asher joins us and stands so Maggie’s back is against his chest. They’re so damn good for each other, it eats at me.

“I was supposed to be,” I begin. I pour myself another shot because, fuck, if anything calls for alcohol abuse, it’s finding out that you’re supposed to be dead and the woman you love—the woman who’s the only reason you aren’t dead right along with the rest of your tour—has moved on with another man. “I decided I couldn’t do the tour and chartered a private plane to get me to Janelle in India. She was at this spiritual retreat and I was staying there, but they don’t allow technology, so I…I had no idea the helicopter went down until someone arrived to deliver the news of my death to Janelle.”

“Where is Janelle?” Maggie asks.

“She’s still there. I told her to stay, and she was shaken enough that she didn’t feel like she wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Why couldn’t you do the tour?” Asher asks.

Maggie says, “Because of Hanna, I bet.”

I look to Asher, who shakes his head. He didn’t tell her.

“Why would you say that?” I ask Maggie.

“I know about you and Hanna. Everyone knows.” She digs through a stack of magazines and hands me one.

My gut burns when I see it. “Fucking privacy-invading assholes,” I growl. My gaze snaps back to Maggie. “Max knows too?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says.

Then she smacks me on the right shoulder. “That’s for scaring me.” Then again on the left. “And that’s for screwing around with my sister and not even telling me about it.”

Asher grabs Maggie’s wrists and pulls her back against his chest. “Quit beating on the company.” Then to me, he says, “You can stay as long as you want. When will Collin get here?”

“Vivian’s bringing him in the morning.”

Maggie’s eyes fill. “That poor kid. I can’t imagine what a rollercoaster this has been for him.”

My throat is too thick, and I can’t risk speaking, so I only nod. Vivian said Collin never cried. He insisted Daddy wasn’t dead because Daddy would never leave him without saying goodbye.

One impulsive decision is the only reason my son still has his father, and that fact makes me feel so insanely helpless I want to scream.

“I’m ready for him to be here,” I finally say. “And thanks for letting us stay awhile. LA is a madhouse. Vivian’s been hounded by paparazzi since the helicopter went down.”

Asher nods. “Of course. You’re welcome as long as you want.”

We all say our goodnights, and the happy couple makes their way to their bedroom, leaving me with the bottle of tequila and memories of Hanna’s mouth under mine.

Five Days Before Hanna’s Accident

“S
TAY ONE
more night?”

She rolls to face me and runs her fingers over my stubble. I need a shave, but I can’t bring myself to have a smooth face when Hanna’s around. She can’t keep her hands off my face when it’s a little rough.

“You’re sure you want to be with me before I’ve made my choice?”

My gut burns. Of course, I want her to make her choice
now
. I want to be the easy choice and for her to say she doesn’t need to think about it. But it’s not that simple. Hanna’s heart is too loyal for that, and that’s what I love about her, isn’t it? Her big heart. Her loyalty. And a goodness that runs so deep and so steady that, when she’s close, it becomes part of who
I
am.

“Stay with me. One more night,” I repeat, and the unsaid words
in case this is goodbye
electrify the air between us.

I trace my hand down her body, and the tension seeps out of her with a soft moan that gets me hard every time. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her virginity. Maybe she’ll regret that after she leaves, but I know I never will. Being inside her, watching the pleasure wash over her face as her body adjusted to mine and I finally sank deep… It was the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given, second only to a woman like her loving me.

She grabs the tequila we left on the bedside table last night and says, “Cheers,” before taking a swig.

Taking the bottle, I grin and splash some between her breasts. “Cheers,” I murmur before I lick away the liquid, following it as it trails down her belly and sides. By the time I’m done, she’s squirming under me.

Gently, I cup her between her legs, where she’s wet from our lovemaking. “Are you sore?”

She shrugs. “A little, but it’s not a bad feeling. More like muscles after a long workout. The good kind of hurt.”

The good kind of hurt.
Yeah, I’m feeling that too, even if my pain is more of the existential variety.

“Hmm.” I roll on top of her and pin her hands to the bed as I murmur against her skin and kiss my way down her body. “Let me kiss it and make it better.” Releasing her hands only so I can part her thighs, I sink to my stomach on the bed and position my head between her legs. “Right here?” I trace her opening, and she gasps and parts her legs farther.

When I replace my fingers with my mouth, she fists her hands in my hair, and
fuck,
do I love that. I stroke her with my fingers and tongue until she’s moaning and so close to coming that she’s fucking my face with jerking, desperate movements. Only then do I pull away and slide back up the bed next to her body.

“Better?”

She pries her eyes open and frowns at me. “You’re…you’re done?”

I have to laugh. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re trying to pretend you don’t care about getting off.”

“I don’t want to be…greedy. I mean, I know we just had sex, so maybe you’re not interested.”

I grunt and lead her hand to my aching erection. “I’m interested, angel. With you, I’m always
interested
.”

She licks her lips as she wraps her fingers around me and strokes. “Then why did you stop again?”

My hips thrust, moving in her hand. “Because I want to be inside you when you come but I don’t want to make you too sore. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman? Oh.” She releases me, and I nearly grunt in disappointment. “In that case, I’m going to be a lady. And this lady needs a shower.”

I stay in bed as she saunters into the bathroom. Not because I’m going to lose the opportunity to shower with Hanna—fuck no—but because I like watching her ass jiggle as she walks. There are very few perfect sights in this world of imperfections, and as such, I will never take Hanna’s ass for granted.

By the time I pull myself out of bed and meet her in the bathroom, she’s already in the shower, water sluicing over her curves. I’m jealous of the damn water because it’s touching her everywhere I want to. I’m going to have to lap it all up with my tongue.

I step in behind her and press my mouth to her neck, sucking at the sensitive spot before knotting my hand in her wet hair and turning her to face me. “I love you,” I say against her mouth.

“I love you too.”

The tenderness that swamps me is terrifying. I don’t want to let her go, and the fear that I might have to consumes me. I slant my mouth over hers, pouring everything I have into the kiss—all my love and fear, my vulnerability and desperation. I can’t handle the power of what I’m feeling, so I put it into my kiss.

Soon, her back is against the glass, her leg is hitched around my waist, and my dick is nestled right against her hot, slick pussy.

“Mine,” I growl against her lips.

Then I slide into her and it feels so fucking good I almost come right then and there. I lift her other leg—greedy for more, desperate to bury myself as deep in her as possible—and I fuck her against the glass. Her mouth is on my neck, her hands in my hair, her ankles locked behind my back.

“Mine,” I repeat.

Her moan echoes in the shower, but I need more. I wrap my hand under her thigh and stroke her where our bodies are joined. Her pussy squeezes around me violently, and she bites the side of my neck as she rides out her orgasm. And I’m so wild with lust and jealousy and this soul-shredding love I feel for her that I’ve come inside her before I realize I’m not wearing a condom.

I pull out of her and slowly help her feet to the ground. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She cocks her head. “Why? That was…amazing.” She winces a little. “Okay, so I’m sore, but it’s really okay.”

I drag a hand through my hair. The shower is still running, and I turn it off before I answer. “I’m sorry because I wasn’t wearing a condom.”

Her lips part as she registers my words.

“There’s probably nothing to worry about,” I say, but I’m thinking of the one other time in my life when I forgot to wear a condom. I was nineteen, and nine months later, Collin was born. Best mistake I’ve ever made, but still. “We’ll be more careful. Are you… You’re on something, right?”

She opens her mouth and closes it. Goose bumps prickle on her arms as she shivers. I lead her out of the shower and wrap her in a towel.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t even think…”

Oh, damn.
“
You’re
sorry? Angel, you didn’t do anything wrong. I should have…” Then it hits me. “You’re
not
on birth control.”

She shakes her head, and I pull her against my chest and squeeze my eyes shut, cursing myself over and over in my mind. I want Hanna. I want to find a way to make it work with her. But another kid? That’s leaps and bounds beyond what I’m ready for.
Fuck it.
I can’t even let my thoughts go there.