Waking Up (39 page)

I stare deep into his eyes that have darkened into pools of sapphire wanting, needing him to understand what I’m saying to him.  “They won’t love me when they know that I’m responsible for killing Alex’s babies.  I’m the reason they’ll never know them.”

Chapter Thirty Seven

Tucker

Adriana goes limp in my lap still crying.  I let her lay there in a ball as I run circles over her back and shoulders.  My heart shatters for this beautiful, broken woman curled in a ball in my lap who thinks the people who love her the most would be angry at her over circumstances out of her control.  People who I know would be loving her and comforting her this entire time had they any idea the heartbreak she’s going through.  They could never in a million years be angry at her for this or not love her.

It’s not possible.

But, in her grief, this is what she thinks.  How do I make her see that they could never hate her, never not love her?  I wish I could make her step outside of herself and see the love in their eyes when they look at her.  Make her see the devotion and loyalty they feel for her.

Will her broken state allow her to see any of this or will she only see the guilt?  The guilt and pain seem to be all she’s feeling now, overriding all her senses.

I pull her tighter to me, pull her up against my chest, rubbing her hair back off her face as she continues to cry.  I whisper gently, “Adriana, they love you.  Please, you have to let this go.  You have to let them in.  You can’t keep doing this alone.  None of them could ever hate you.  I don’t know you well.  I don’t know them well, but the little I’ve seen, I know these people love you like family.  They could never not love you.”

I keep rubbing her hair, needing to touch her.  I’m not sure if I need to touch her to comfort her or myself.  Somehow in the last hour or so, her pain has become mine and I’m grieving for her.

Her face slowly lifts from my lap and the sadness in her eyes guts me.  “You don’t understand, Tucker.  Alex was the best of us.  When he died, he took so much away from us.  I could have given them part of that back.  What if they had his hair or eyes or his laugh or smile?  What if they had his big heart?  I could have given them so much just by holding onto my babies.  I could have given them a little bit of Alex back, but I didn’t do that.  They’ll never forgive me.”

I watch a tear fall down her now swollen, red, blotchy face.  With all the tears she’s cried today, I don’t know why I notice this one, but I follow its path from her eye down her cheek and watch it drop off her chin.  It seems so much more depressing than all the others and I have a moment of clarity.

Today is not the day that I’ll get through to Adriana, but hopefully soon I will.  I can’t take this pain away for her.  I can’t make it better.  It’s all I want to do—make it better—make her feel better, but I understand grief.  It’s a bitch.  Grief has to work itself out.  It can either consume you or you can move on. At this point, it’s consuming her.

And there’s nothing I can do to take that away for her.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Tucker

Running my hands through my wet hair, I try unsuccessfully to wake up.  No matter how I tried, I couldn’t sleep.  Worry about Adriana kept me tossing and turning.  Several times I wanted to sneak into her room, crawl into her bed, and hold her through the night.  I wondered if she was sleeping or sitting up fretting over me knowing her secret.  

She fell asleep is my arms yesterday, exhausted from her crying.  I sat in her bed, running my fingers through her hair and rubbing her back with numb legs, afraid to move.  I didn’t want to disturb her.  When she woke, she was embarrassed that we skipped lunch and then the full realization of me knowing her secret hit her.  I watched in horror as she went in bursts of vacant Adriana to believing she’s a murderer that I should be disgusted by.  It didn’t matter what I did or said.  I couldn’t comfort her.  

Our stomachs finally got the better of us.  I ordered us an early dinner, nothing fancy, just pizza, and went downstairs to wait for it while she hopped in the shower.  I didn’t care that I may get recognized.  I knew she needed some time alone and I was making sure she got it.  I think I needed a few minutes, too.

Slumping onto the couch, I drop my head into my hands, and replay our conversation in my head.  Disappointment fills me remembering how I yelled at her and shook her.  I just got so angry that she could speak about herself in such a way.  She’s so kind and giving.  What happened to her was a tragic accident, completely out of her control.  I lost my shit and I shouldn’t have.

 The pizza is delivered without a hitch.  It doesn’t appear the kid knows who I am and I thank my lucky stars.  I close the door, turn around, pizza in hand, to a no make-up Adriana in black cotton pajama shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top with no bra.

My brain drops into my pants.

 Holy fucking shit.  Does this woman not understand how damn sexy she is?

 It takes all my will power to bring the pizza to the island, help her get plates and drinks because she’s obviously still in shock from telling me her secret, and walk her to the living room.  I figure we can relax in front of the TV with our five star dinner.

After eating, I clean up and we sit on the couch for a few minutes saying nothing.  I can feel the tension rolling of her in waves.  I don’t know what to say.  Every time I try to comfort her or say something nice, she shuts me down.  I’m relieved when she tells me she’s sorry that she’s asked me to carry the burden of knowing the truth about her because at least she’s speaking.  She doesn’t get it that it’s not a burden for me to know her secret.  The burden is seeing her hurting.

We decide to watch re-runs of Supernatural on Netflix and I’m surprised when she cuddles into my side.  Not one to lose any chance at contact with her, I lift my arm, allowing her to get closer, and wrap my arms around her shoulder.  I swear, I hear a small sigh from her lips.  I wish I knew if it’s a happy sigh or not.  I want to make her happy.  

Pulling myself from the thoughts of yesterday and last night, I stare at myself in the mirror.  “Get yourself together, Tucker, before you see her.  Smile even if you don’t mean it.  You’re an actor for fuck’s sake.”  I’m trying to get myself ready for how she’ll be this morning after an entire night alone thinking about everything she said to me, crying in my lap, cuddling with me.  

Something changed between us after she knew I would keep her secret.  A trust was built.  I don’t understand why she feels responsible for miscarrying her twins, but grief can be a nasty bitch.  Maybe before I go back to Vancouver I can use this newfound trust to get her to talk to the people closest to her.

One last look in the mirror, I decide I need to stop being a pussy.  I need to slap my balls on and face her.  She already told me her deepest secret.  I need to be there for her no matter what the fallout this morning.  Her friends will be here soon and I need to act like nothing has happened.

Pushing off from the counter, I stroll through my room with a fake calm, practicing for when I’ll see her.  I open my door, step out and fall, barely able to get my arms in front of me before my face connects with the hardwood floor.  What the fuck?!

Giggles and a snort alert me to her presence and I raise my head from where I was looking at my smarting elbows.  “Good morning, Tucker,” she says through a smile.  

I know I should get off the floor, but I can’t move.  The sun streaming in from the skylight in her room is creating a halo effect around her head.  It’s shining all around behind her making her look like she’s immersed in light.  I’ve been saying she’s my angel since I first laid eyes on her, but, in this moment, she truly looks like one.

I’m not aware of what she’s wearing.  If she has make-up on.  I couldn’t tell you if she’s speaking to me.  I’m entranced by her beauty, her radiance.

 I lie there like a fool propped on my sore elbows, smiling as big as I can at her.  I vaguely feel a lump under my feet, but I’m so lost in staring at her, I can’t register that I should get up or find out what I tripped over.

Adriana walks toward me and as she steps away from the sunlight I notice she’s in a sundress, a flowy purple and turquoise sundress that stops just above her knees.  I can see the straps from her bathing suit wrapped around her neck and I’m praying it’s a bikini because I want to see as much of her skin as possible.  I really want to take her out of that dress and everything else and finish what we started yesterday.

She stops in front of me and it dawns on me that I still haven’t made a move to get off the floor.  She kneels down beside me, her eyebrows drawn in.  “I’m sorry I laughed.  Are you hurt?”

I laugh.  I can’t help it.  Before I can stop myself, I roll to my back, grabbing her in the process. I pull her on top of me, push my hands into her hair, and slam my lips to hers.  The feeling of her body lying across mine is unexplainable.  I’m instantly hard and I know she can feel it.  I lick across her bottom lip, demanding entrance, and she happily obliges, letting out a soft moan as she opens up for me.

My fingers grip her dress, sliding it up her body.  Excitement builds in me the higher I slide it up her legs.  She doesn’t stop me.  She deepens the kiss, her tongue warring with mine.  Her moans urging me on, feeding the fire raging inside of me.  

My hands skim across her ass, fabric a barrier between my skin and hers.  It’s too much of a barrier.  I want to feel that ass I’ve been dreaming off.  Flipping the dress out of the way, I slide my hands into her bikini bottom, gripping the curves of her ass.  I’m afraid I’m going to come from finally touching her like this.  She’s panting and nibbling at my lip.  I didn’t peg her as a biter, but fuck it’s hot.

Too many clothes.

It’s all I can think.  I want our skin touching. I break our mouths apart and rip her dress over her head before attacking her mouth again.  Her fingers scratch up my sides, onto my chest.  I want her to touch me everywhere.  

When she starts grinding her hips into me, I lose all sense except that I want her naked and underneath me.  This woman is my undoing.  She’s barely touched me and she has me so turned on, I’m scared I’m going to embarrass myself like a Goddamn teenager.  

Never breaking contact with her lips, I run my fingers up her back, reveling in the softness of her skin.  I notice how she jumps a little when I touch a ticklish spot, but doesn’t stop kissing me.  Untying her top, I let it fall on my chest, not wanting to appear to be rushing her.  I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but I want her comfortable with whatever we do.

I can’t believe I have enough brain function left to think this through.  

Needing to feel more of her, kiss more of her, I force my mouth from hers and kiss down her neck.  She keeps letting soft moans escape and the sound goes straight to my throbbing dick.  She has no idea what her little noises are doing to me, but every one has me straining and ready to shatter through my pants.

My fingers dance across her back, finding their way to the front.  I’m craving the feeling of her breasts, to see how they fit in my hands.  My imagination has been in overdrive the last few days and now I get the reality.  Tracing her ribs as I nibble her neck, It takes everything in me to not rip both our clothes off and bury myself balls deep when she whispers, “Tucker.”  I’ll be lucky to last thirty seconds at this rate.

“Tucker, please,” she begs, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper, the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.  

I bring my hands around the front, finally cup her breasts and let out a contented sigh.  “You are fucking perfect, Adriana.”  And I mean that.  Her breasts fit my hands perfect.  I can’t wait to use them to pleasure her, but I want to hold them for a second, treasure them.

“Tucker,” she whispers again, digging her hips into mine.  I swear I see stars.

“I know, sweetness. I got you,” I say, bringing our lips back together, swallowing her whimper.  Running my thumbs over both her breasts, I groan when she crushes our pelvises together.  Fuck, she’s going to make me come in my pants.

I keep tweaking her nipples, rolling them between my fingers.  My mind is lost in the swirling pleasure of watching her arousal and feeling mine.  I know I need to get her off the floor and take her somewhere more comfortable, but I’m afraid to break the spell.

Breaking the kiss again, I kiss down her neck and keep going.  I need to taste more of her.  I want her tits in my mouth.  I want to make her scream.  Want to claim her.

Her breath quickens.  I can hear it in my ear.  I love how she wraps her fingers in my hair, tugs enough to show me where she wants me.  She wants this, too.

Almost there.

Opening my eyes I hadn’t realized were closed, I’m staring at two perfect breasts.  Breasts that I’m inching my face to, that I’m kissing my way to.  Adriana’s grasping my hair, whispering my name.  She’s so responsive.

I open my mouth to take her nipple in.

“Hey, Kid, where you at?”

Adriana jumps up, her tit slapping me in the cheek.  Normally I would laugh my ass off, but the stark fear on her face sobers me up fast.  I whisper for her to tell him she’ll be down in a minute.

“Just give me a minute, Pres, okay?”  Her voice is a lot steadier than I thought it would have been and I’m already on my feet with her in my arms, all of her clothes kicked through my door.

“Alright, Lana and I will get the cooler and start getting sandwich stuff out of the fridge.”

“Okay,” she yells back.”

I close my door, her between me and it.  Quickly, I place a kiss on her nose.  She smiles at me as I help tie her top back on without peeking.  Being a gentleman sucks sometimes.   I grab her dress and pull it over her head.  Holding my finger up for her to wait a second, I walk into my bathroom for my brush.  When I walk back out, she giggles.

“I’m going to go put my hair in a ponytail, but thanks anyway.”

I shrug, not sure what to say.  I’m still totally turned on.  I swear if we get interrupted one more time, my dick is going to explode and not in a good way.  “What the fuck did I trip over anyway?” I ask.