He closed his eyes and when he opened them and looked at her, the tears were falling down her face again. It killed him to see her pain.
“I have to believe I never really forgot,” he said quietly. “And that’s why I haven’t been able to let you go.”
Roxie and Beckham sat on the couch. They’d stopped to fuel up and she’d nearly gotten off then, but he’d begged her to stay. She didn’t know what to say to him. It had all been said. Well, not all. There was always more to say, but, for now, she was done. Something close to relief was surfacing.
“Can I touch you?” he asked softly. “Hold your hand?”
The look on his face since she’d told him was already haunting her. She’d thought about this conversation many times over the years, imagined telling him off and inflicting him with some of the hurt she’d felt. But now that she’d told him, the bitterness she’d carried felt more like the sorrow that it really was. Being around him the last couple of months and seeing that he was more decent than she ever knew—it made a big difference. Maybe the hurt would ease now that she’d confronted it.
She let him take her hand. They sat quietly, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“How old were you?”
“18.”
He looked slightly relieved. “How old are you now?”
“23.”
He looked at their hands and squeezed. “I don’t know if you even can, but I hope one day you can forgive me, Roxie,” he finally spoke. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” He lifted her hand to his cheek and held it there. He looked at her, his eyes unwavering, and she believed him.
“Thank you. I think … it’s time I move on. Worse things have happened than all this.” She shrugged. “We were both a lot younger and both made mistakes,” she said. “I’ve acted like a child this whole tour. I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult. I’d hoped I wouldn’t even have to deal with you, you know, get lost in the group.” She gave a small smile. “Once I realized it wasn’t going to be that way, I should have left instead of being so awful to you.”
“I’m glad I talked you into staying. You’re the only one I’ve been able to see, Roxie.” The grey in his eyes seemed lit from behind. “And you have nothing to be sorry about.” He lowered their hands to his thigh and played with her fingers. “I know it’s too soon to ask, but … do I have any chance in hell with you?”
This time the silence was painful. It dragged on and on until he stood up and looked down at her. She stared up at him and was unable to look away. She tried to speak a few times, but couldn’t.
He pulled her up and they stood inches apart. They’d stood this way so many times before. Every night they’d touched more than this onstage, but now it was more intimate than it had ever been. She reached up and touched his hair, his ear, his cheek. His breath caught and he leaned into her hand. Her eyes closed as she traced his nose and his lips.
“I think maybe you’ve always had a chance with me,” she whispered.
Her eyes were still closed when he kissed her. Their lips had barely locked when her stomach dropped out. Her tongue touched his bottom lip, making him squeeze her tighter against him. Slow and deliberate, he teased just under her top lip until she gripped the back of his head and drew him in deeper.
Nothing felt close enough. She couldn’t tell if he was trembling or if it was just her. He fisted her hair, pulling her back to look at him, and when she did, he stalked forward and pinned her against the wall. His eyes looked wild, the color undefined, but the intensity made her whole body feel like lead. He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him, his hands squeezing her thighs, but not going past that point.
The restraint was making her crazy. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck. She arched her back and he pulled away again, cursing under his breath. His eyes searched hers.
“I’ve had the hardest time reading your signals,” he said in a raspy voice.
“I won’t play games if you won’t, Beckham,” she whispered. She felt reckless and couldn’t bother caring at the moment. “What do you want?”
“I haven’t been playing games. I want you. Remember? I said I want everything.”
They stared at each other for a moment before crashing into each other again, holding nothing back.
A faint knock on the bus door got louder and louder.
“I’m not answering it,” he whispered. “Let’s pretend we aren’t here.” He carried her toward the back room. His hands gripped her bottom as he lifted her higher and he squeezed. “Ahhh. Fuck me. I’ve been dying to do this for months.” He squeezed her cheeks harder. “You have the best a-”
The knocking got louder.
“Ignore it,” he whispered.
“You should see who it is.”
He growled and set her down, bending to level with her eyes. “I’m busy.”
She crinkled her nose and laughed, backing up. He advanced, intent and steady, ready to pounce.
When she reached the door to his bedroom and stepped in, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, her back to his chest. A mirror faced them and he looked at her in the mirror before moving her shirt aside and kissing down her neck and shoulder. He glanced up and saw her watching him and smiled, his tongue softly tracing where his lips had been.
Her eyes closed and she leaned her head back onto his chest. His hands went under her shirt, igniting her skin.
“Roxie,” he whispered, his fingers tickling her stomach.
She opened her eyes and he was still watching her in the mirror. He unbuttoned a button on her shirt, and another, and all of them until her breath was sucked dry. With a flick of his hand, her shirt was on the floor and her chest fell with each exhale.
“I’ve been waiting a lifetime for you, Roxie Taylor,” he said softly.
She reached up and unclasped her bra and turned around.
“You can’t possibly know how beautiful you are.” His voice was hoarse.
He picked her up again, burying his face in her breasts, and kicked the door shut behind him. She leaned up on both elbows when he laid her on the bed. He stood over her.
“I can’t move,” he said. “You’re too much to take in, lying there on my bed.”
“Don’t make me wait,” she whispered.
He jumped into action, tossing his clothes on the floor while her eyes grew round.
“You sure about that?” He pointed down, half-embarrassed and half-brazen. “You called it my weapon before—but seeing you naked makes me more than a little dangerous.”
She gulped. “Please.”
He was over her in no time, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders. As he was about to slowly sink into her, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him all the way in. He closed his eyes and stayed completely still.
“You’re full of surprises, Roxie Taylor,” he finally said.
“I’m an all or nothin’ kind of a girl,” she said between jagged breaths.
She swiveled her hips and he groaned.
He pulled out and plunged into her. And again, deeper. She trembled and gasped when he went even deeper. Her eyes closed and she shook her head back and forth on the pillow. When she opened her eyes, his eyes were still on her as he drove into her again and again. Faster.
“Give it to me, Rox. I want it all.”
He put her legs on his shoulder to go even deeper and she felt it in every part of her body when they both dove headlong over the edge.
Hours later, he was apologizing for how small the shower in the bus was.
“Well, it’s not built for two,” Roxie teased.
“Come here then, I’ll just crawl back inside you and we’ll have more room.”
She splashed him with water and laughed. “I need time to recover. You wore me out that last time.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, looking at her with what she could only perceive as devotion. I must be dreaming.
“My poor girl. Let me get you to bed.”
She got out of the shower and turned to see if he was getting out. He was right behind her, his mouth hanging open, staring at her backside.
“Sorry, it’s going to take forever for me to get used to seeing you naked. You are exquisite, Rox—hey! Don’t cover up that work of art.” He scowled at her and pulled the towel back down. His smile took over his face again. “There…”
She snatched the towel back and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m cold.”
“I have just the thing for that … it’ll take care of the ache I left inside you. You won’t even have to move,” he whispered. “Come here.”
He pulled her back to the bedroom and worshipped her body with his mouth and tongue and fingers until she was crying his name again and again and finally begging for him to stop.
Her eyes were still closed when his hands ran lightly over her hip. She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled.
“I thought I was dreaming,” he said.
“I think we both were.”
“This feels awfully real.” He turned her over to face him and leaned over her. He sank into her, an inch at a time. She closed her eyes and arched into him.
“It does,” she agreed.
There was a knock on the bus door. It sounded distant at first and then turned into pounding.
“Shit.”
“They’re serious this time,” Roxie said.
“I guess I can’t ignore them forever.”
She shook her head. He pushed into her one more time and kissed her. Then he pulled out.
“I’m bloody murdering whoever this is,” he muttered. “Don’t forget where we were.”
She nodded, wide-eyed, unable to tear her eyes from him. His body was so beautiful. She didn’t know another word for it. She wanted time to just stare at him. He threw on his clothes and closed the bedroom door behind him. She sat on the bed, trying to catch her breath.
Anthony’s voice carried through the bus, but she couldn’t tell what he was saying. He didn’t sound happy, but it was hard to tell with him sometimes. He acted way more aggravated than he ever was. Beckham’s voice rose too, and she heard her name. Roxie stood up and walked to the door to see if she could hear anything else. She was about to go out there and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like she’d been thoroughly sexed up.
Exactly, she thought, and giggled. She heard her name again, this time closer. She threw her clothes on and sat on the bed, putting her head in her hands. This couldn’t be good.
There was a quick rap on the door and Beckham opened it. “Can you come out here? I want you to hear this.”
He took her hand and walked her out to the couches. Anthony stood with his hands on his hips and glared at both of them.
Beckham motioned to Anthony. “He doesn’t think this looks good—you staying on the bus with me—and doesn’t want tension with the other dancers. No ‘preferential treatment’ allowed on his clock. And I want you both to know … I don’t give a shit whether anyone cares or not.” He kissed her hand and his grin was mischievous and cocky and made her heart tumble over itself. “I do prefer you over anyone else I’ve ever met in my life and I don’t care who knows it. If I had my way, you’d be on the bus with me the rest of the tour and move in with me afterward.”
Roxie’s mouth dropped and Anthony squealed. She looked at Anthony and he was pressing his lips together, trying to look mad and not too excited at the same time.
Beckham wasn’t finished.
“In fact, would you please stay? We can work it out with everyone. They’ll understand. I need time with you, Roxie.” He leaned down and kissed her neck and she jumped.
She took a deep breath and a step back from Beckham, dropping her hand from his. “I-I should go … Anthony’s right. I don’t want to make anyone u-”
His smile fell. “Think about it? Sierra can be on here with us too. Please. No games, right?” He leaned in and put his hands on her face, looking in her eyes. “I’m afraid if you go out that door, I’ll lose you again … I don’t want any more barriers.” He backed up and put his hands on his head. “God, I sound like a frickin’ wuss. But I don’t care! We finally got somewhere!” he yelled. Quieter, he said in her ear, “I’ve never used the words ‘made love’ in my life, before you, but that’s exactly what I did with you.”
Roxie’s heart hummed, but she glanced at Anthony who looked about ready to burst into dance right there on the bus. She took a step away from Beckham.
“I’m not going anywhere—well, except back to my bus, but … that’s not what I meant. Uh,” she laughed awkwardly, “let me get used to the idea of not hating you.” She gave a wobbly smile. “We should try taking things a little slower. We seem to have the sex figured out.” Her face grew warm, but she ignored it and went to stand by Anthony.
Beckham pressed his lips together and looked down. “If that’s what you want, okay, but … we don’t need to go slow for me, Roxie. Just so we’re clear. I know what I want.”
Anthony clapped his hands together. “Well, this was really fun. AND informative. I think you’re making the right call, Rox.” He winked at her. “But let me just be the first to say,” he clasped both of their arms, “you guys will make the prettiest babies.”
“Oh my God!” Roxie groaned. “You’re both crazy.”
Beckham just raised an eyebrow and smiled.
The whole clan was hanging out when Roxie got on the bus. Justin did a cat call and Vanessa laughed, hitting him in the arm.
“Someone had a good night,” Brad said wistfully.
“So did you,” Shelton muttered.
“Totally,” Brad answered. “But look at her. She’s all sparkly.”
Brooke’s arms were folded and she didn’t say a word.
“Hi!” Roxie gave a general wave.
“Details!” Vanessa demanded.
“We talked.” Roxie shrugged. “Had some things to clear up…”
“Oh please. You can’t tell us you only talked!” Shelton yelled. “Take a look in the mirror, honey!”
The guys laughed and Vanessa shushed them. “Let her talk.”
“That’s all…” Roxie said. “What did I miss?”
Brad looked like he wanted to kill her for not spilling more dirt. Vanessa just looked determined.
Roxie walked back to her bunk before anyone else could say anything. She crawled in the dark and felt something all over her mattress. Flipping the little light switch on, she looked around. Little strips of material were everywhere. She opened the curtain so she could see better. Her blanket from home had been cut into tiny strips. It was the blanket she and Leo always cuddled under to watch movies together. The books that she kept by her pillow were shredded.
Just like that, her mood tipped upside down. Tears filled her eyes and she hit the wall with her fist. She grabbed a handful of material and paper and walked back to where they were still discussing whether she’d slept with Beckham or not.
“Who did this?” she demanded.
All eyes turned in her direction.
“What are you talking about?” Shelton asked.
“Who destroyed my blanket and books?” Roxie shouted.
Vanessa stood up. “Show me. What happened?”
Everyone walked back to the bunk and gasped when they saw it.
“Did you do this, Brooke?” Roxie got in Brooke’s face. “You did, didn’t you!”
“No! Get out of my face. Why would I do that?”
“You’re the only one who has it out for me!” Roxie yelled.
Brad took her arm. “Let’s get Anthony and Beckham and figure this out. Come on.”
“I don’t want to waste Anthony and Beckham’s time if you’re not going to tell the truth,” Roxie said quietly to Brooke.
“There’s no way you can think I did any of that,” Brooke whispered, her lip trembling and then settling into a sneer. “And certainly no way you can prove it.”
/>
Everyone looked at Brooke then and it was silent for a beat.
“Shit,” Shelton muttered.
Roxie moved so fast, Brad couldn’t stop her. She shoved Brooke against the wall and said, “You leave me and my things alone. Got it?”
“I. Didn’t. Do. It,” Brooke said. And then louder, “But someone sure does hate you…” She started smiling and then laughed until tears were running down her face.
Roxie’s whole body shook. She let Brooke go and walked off the bus. Johnny was standing outside, guarding her door.
“Let’s go find a good deli, Johnny. I need to be around someone normal.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Hanging out with Johnny helped. He was a nice guy, nothing too intense or deep, but very pleasant. Exactly what she needed after experiencing every emotion possible in the last 24 hours. After they ate, she sat outside and Skyped Leo and they talked for a couple of hours. She didn’t know what she’d do if she couldn’t see him every day like this, even though it sucked that it was through a screen a lot of the time. His visits helped more, but Skyping helped them get by. So far they hadn’t gone more than a week without seeing each other. Even though it was expensive with all the plane tickets, it was completely worth it.
When she got to hair and makeup, her normal girl, Suzanne, seemed to realize she needed a boost and did a cute braid in her up-do. Roxie loved it. Tracy, the makeup artist that usually did Roxie’s makeup, was out sick, so the new girl, Coco, took over. She was a little heavy handed, but when she was done, Roxie had to admit that the crimson lipstick totally matched the mood she was in.
Beckham was pacing the bus when Sierra got on.
“I don’t know whether the pacing is a good sign or not,” she said.
“Well, she left, so, obviously not a great sign, but,” he bit his lip and beamed at her, “we did have a great night.”