Love Always, Damian (15 page)

Blake’s eyes sparkle as the corner of his mouth curves up. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Don’t you usually go to the gym in the mornings?” I ask, catching the time on my alarm clock that’s due to go off in three minutes. Then we have to get ready for another glorious day on the Reef.

“No way would I miss an opportunity to wake up beside you.” He reaches down and brushes hair out of my face. “I’d like to do this every morning.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I resisted him last night but barely. If he’s in my bed on a nightly basis, I doubt my resistance will hold for long.

Blake tips my chin up and presses a kiss against my lips. “When you’re ready,” he says.

“One day at a time.” I don’t ask because it’s not a question. There is no other option for me.

Not until I can get Damian out of my heart and be fair to Blake.

Chapter 16

Damian

Olivia has a chemo treatment today. Lia’s sitting on the floor outside the chemo room, waiting for her friend to arrive. Her elbows sit on her knees, and her chin rests on the tops of her fists.

I shuffle through patient files at the nurses’ station, searching for the one I need. From the corner of my eye, I see Olivia round the corner. Lia sees her too and jumps to her feet. Olivia breaks into a huge grin, and the girls squeal out their delight. It’s been a whole four days since they saw each other last.

“I got you something,” Lia says, holding out the pink gift bag.

“For me?”

“Open it! Open it!” Lia bounces up and down.

Olivia rips the tape at the top and reaches in. Her eyes light up when she pulls out what’s inside—five over-the-top girly headbands.

“Do you like them?” my daughter asks. Yesterday at Target, she’d screamed when she saw them, and right away she knew “Olivia
must
have these, Daddy! She must! Pleeeeease?” Then she’d batted her eyes at me.

“Toss ’em in the cart,” I’d said.

“They’re so pretty,” Olivia says, examining each one. “Oh! I love the flower on this one!”

“Yep. And look!” Lia says, pulling an identical purple one from behind her back. “They match!”

“Put it on!”

“You first,” Lia counters.

“Same time?”

Lia slips hers onto her head as Olivia does over skin.

“We’re twins!” Lia exclaims.

They wrap an arm around each other and pull in close, cheek to cheek. I chuckle at the girliness of it all.

Behind them, the door to the chemo room opens, and Leslie stands there. When she sees the girls making silly faces at each other like they’re in a photo booth, she laughs.

“All right, you two,” she says. “Olivia needs to start her treatment.”

Olivia frowns. “Rats.”

“Lia, she’ll meet you in The Commons in five minutes,” the nurse instructs.

Lia shoots me a pouty face.

I shrug. “Nurse Leslie’s a hard knock.”

Lia’s expression shifts to confusion.

“It means she likes the rules,” I clarify.

“Can Lia come in with me, please?” Olivia asks Leslie, and it seems my daughter has taught her friend the benefits of batting eyelashes.

Leslie glances between the girls, who are both giving her their very best. The nurse’s eyes flick up to me, and I hold my hands up in surrender.

“Okay,” Leslie relents. “But you have to be quiet. There’s another patient in there, and she’s not feeling well.”

The little girls hold hands and start running in place with excitement. “Yay!”

Again, Leslie looks at me.

I grin. “Sucker.”

~*~

Lia has officially broken me.

I slide the bowl of macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs in front of her. She beams at the fake cheese and processed meat, and I inwardly groan. I can’t believe Ellie feeds her this shit.

Dylan swings around the corner. “Dude, did you cook?”

“Yeah, garbage,” I say, holding up the empty box.

“Any leftovers?”

I point to the pan. “Have at it, man.”

“Sweet!”

Dylan grabs a bowl from the cupboard, loads it up with the exact same thing Lia wanted, and wanders back to the living room. My mother would be rolling over in her grave if she knew I served this stuff to her granddaughter. And here Dylan is, finishing it off.

Whatever.

Before I stride over to the fridge to get myself something to eat, I check my phone. Ellie should be calling any minute now, and I’ve found my thoughts straying to her throughout the day. This afternoon, I smiled when a memory of Ellie and me in our swimming pool surfaced. We had fun that day. Played for a while before I decided she needed to lose that little bikini she had on. It was the first time I ever fucked her in the pool.

I collect sandwich fixings and carry them to the counter. Lia’s got a cute chocolate milk mustache going on, and I laugh when she flashes me her goofy grin.

“Do I have something on my face?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Nope. Nothing.”

She giggles and slurps down another gulp of milk. “Now do I?”

“Much better,” I say, nodding my approval. As I do, my finger hits the edge of my phone, and I get this total dad idea. I pick it up and find the camera app. “Hey, Lia. Say ‘banana monkey’!” It’s what Dad used to tell Liam and me when we were kids.

Lia snickers, then tilts her head to the side and smiles—literally—from ear to ear, flashing me her milk clad mouth and set of dimples.

“Can I see?” she asks as soon as I snap the picture. Already, she’s pushing her chair back and climbing off it. She runs over to me, the braided pigtails Leslie put in earlier swaying back and forth.

I crouch down beside her, holding the screen out. Lia’s eyes light up, and she claps her hands.

“I look
silly
!” she squeals.

I hug her close. Kiss her temple. “You look adorable.”

She skips back to the table to finish her dinner, and I set the picture as my wallpaper image. When I glance up at the real thing, I’m suddenly filled with pride.

Nothing in my fucked-up life merits me having this beautiful little girl, but she’s here. She’s mine. And she’s smiling at me. Right then, my phone rings. It’s Ellie, and I can’t wait to hear her voice on the other end.

“Hey, Elle,” I answer.

I hear a gust blow into the receiver as if she exhaled.

“Elle?” I repeat.

“Hi, Damian. Lia-Kat around?”

Excitement drains out of me. She’s back to the same matter-of-fact tone.

“Uh, yeah. Hang on.”

I pass off the phone to Lia, and she chats her mom up while I finish making my sandwich. I don’t want to dwell on the emptiness that just filled my chest.

Across from me, Lia bursts out in laughter. She tosses her head back, and all I see is Ellie in her place, her long blonde hair stuck to her bare back as water drips from it. Laughing, smiling in the pool like we meant more to each other than we did. In gentle strokes, she runs her fingers through my hair, her pale blue eyes holding something other than pain for once.

With me that day, Ellie was happy.

“I love you too, Mommy,” Lia says, bringing me back to reality.

I take the phone from her and press it to my ear. “Hey.”

“Lia asked if you’d sent me a picture of her? Something about a milk moustache?”

Lia’s beside me, her palms pressed together in front of her and her pouty face on.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, giving Lia a playful swat to go eat. “She begged me for chocolate milk when we went to the store today, so I let her have it for supper. She loves that stuff. It was all over her face, and I—”

“Hey, Elizabeth. Do you have any towels?” a voice—a male voice—filters through the phone.

Towels?

“In the basket on the floor beside the shower.” Ellie’s answer is muffled. She probably tried to cover the phone.

Towels. Shower. Male.

I connect the pieces easily. One—two—three. Blake stayed the night.

He slept over.

Or she slept over with him.

It doesn’t matter. All guys are the same, and Blake sure as hell got what he wanted last night.

Fuck.

“Um…uh, Damian…” She trails off because there’s nothing to say. She knows I heard.

“You’re not alone,” I say.

Silence hangs heavy on the other end.

“Damian, it’s…he’s…”

“Blake?” I finish.

“How did you know?”

“Doesn’t matter. I get it.” I spin around to avoid Lia’s gaze and lower my voice. “I stay here in celibacy with our daughter, while you have sleepovers with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my…” She doesn’t finish, and the whole thing is crystal clear.

“Right.” I shake my head, close to laying into her. “Like I said, I get it. You know—”

I stop because I don’t want Lia to see me lose my cool. “Bye, Ellie,” I say, clutching onto the phone. I might break it if I don’t hang up.

With outward calm, I set the phone on the counter. What Lia sees is me, acting casual. Inside, though, I’m ready to explode.

And I fucking shouldn’t feel this way. Ellie was Liam’s girlfriend, not mine. Never mine. When she ditched everything to move south, I couldn’t care less. I had my own shit to deal with, and Ellie was of no concern to me. I’d moved on—not that there was anything to move on from.

I was a free agent. As was she.

God-fucking-dammit!

I leave Lia in the kitchen. Go to the living room where Dylan sits with his empty bowl and half a beer.

“I need you to watch Lia tonight for me,” I say.

Dylan’s eyes peer up from his laptop. “Why? Where’re you going?”

“Out.”

I don’t wait for him to retort before I round the corner to my bedroom. I take off my t-shirt and tug a white button-up from the closet. Then I stuff my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans.

Dylan is standing in the doorway, glaring at me. The dude’s smart and has probably figured out my intentions.

It’s what I do.

“Think about this, Damian,” he reasons.

“Already did.”

He blocks me. “Whatever happened, this isn’t the answer, man. What am I supposed to say to Lia when she asks where you went? Remember what happened last time?”

I’m not thinking clearly. Hell, I’m not thinking at all.

“She’ll be fine. Get out of my way.”

Like an idiot, my roommate stands there and shakes his asshole head. I’ll knock it off his damn neck if I have to.

“Move, Dylan,” I grind out. I’m trying to contain my anger. I don’t want to get loud and attract Lia’s attention, but if this dickhead doesn’t let me pass, I’m going to fucking detonate.

Dylan must realize I’m serious because he steps aside. I’m halfway to the front door when I spin
around, Dylan’s words finally registering with me—I can’t storm out of here and leave Lia alone. She threw a tantrum and tornadoed my bedroom last time.

But I can’t stay either.

All of my muscles tense as I walk into the kitchen. Lia is putting her empty bowl and cup into the sink. My partially-made sandwich sits on the counter.

Her eyebrows narrow, taking me in. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

Three-year-olds shouldn’t be this perceptive.

“I’ll be right back, Lia, I swear. I…have to go out for a while. Something came up.”

“At the hospital?”

I hate what I’m about to do. Lying to my daughter makes me a jackass. “Yeah, babygirl.”

“Is it Olivia?”

I crouch down in front of her. “No. It’s nothing like that. Olivia is fine.”

“Okay. I can watch a movie with Dylan until you come home.” She folds her tiny arms around my neck. I hug her back, and suddenly Ellie’s face flashes in my mind again. Her stunning blue eyes laughing right along with her smile.

The picture widens. Ellie’s in bed, naked, throwing her blonde hair back onto the pillow. The further out the image goes, the more I see, and I realize it’s not me making her smile. It’s him—a mental rendition of this Blake-guy.

Heat burns through my veins. Anger and hurt—emotions I know too well.

Luckily, I also know how to quench them.

“Be good, all right?” I say, releasing Lia.

“I will. You be good too.”

She bounces off to the living room. I don’t watch her leave. Instead, I open the back door to the garage.

I’ve gotta get the hell out of here.

My destination tonight is The Underground. Max’s is where I go when I want to unwind. The college hangout is the place to get drunk off my ass and pick up some girl to drown out what the booze doesn’t.

The Underground is packed with students staying for summer term, working in town, or those who went to other colleges and are back home. It doesn’t matter that it’s a weekday, everyone’s here.

I stride up to the bar, flash my ID, and order a whiskey soda. The strong bass pumping through my body does nothing for me. I’m not here to have a good time.

No, I’m on the prowl.

I take the first scan of my options after I suck down my drink and order another. There’s a group of three girls dancing at the edge of the stage, going absolutely crazy already. The place just opened for the night, and they’re obviously hammered.

They’re also a little young to be here, and I wonder if the bouncer is slacking on his door duties. I don’t care, but the difference between seventeen and eighteen is huge for what I want to do later. But damn, they look like a good time—wild and willing to do whatever a guy asks.