Still (Grip Book 2)(68)

"Is Dr. Hammond's daughter okay?" Worry pinches her expression.

"I think so." I caution myself to keep it casual. Any talk of danger to a  kid hits too close to home, brings up too many things we're trying to  get past. "He didn't have all the information and was on his way to  Philly."

The longer we stand here together, the less I think about anything but  us. I hope Iz's daughter is okay, and I'm nervous about debating Ford,  but Bristol's scent, her proximity make everything else fade. We haven't  even talked about what the doctor said at her six-week. It was such a  whirlwind getting out of LA and arriving here, and now we've both been  pulled into commitments. At this rate, it'll be tomorrow before my sore  wrist goes into retirement. I rest my hands at her hips, rubbing my  palms along the silkiness of her dress, imagining her skin, even silkier  beneath. I turn a pointed glare on Amir, not so subtly signaling him to  get ghost and give me a few minutes with my girl before we have to go  our separate ways for the night.         

     



 

"Uh, I'll meet you downstairs in . . ." His expression inquires as he heads for the door.

"Twenty minutes. I need to get there a lot earlier now."

"K. I'll call for the car."

"Bye Amir," Bristol says. "We'll see you in a little bit."

"We?" I eat up the inches separating us, leaning down to run my nose  along the satiny curve of her neck. "Damn, you smell good, Bris."

"Thanks." She pulls back and grabs her phone from the couch. "If you  think for one second I'm leaving you in the same room with Clem Ford  without me, you have another thing coming."

As much as I want her with me, I don't want her babysitting or feeling like I can't handle my shit with this idiot.

Okay . . . I did lose my shit a little that last time, but that's beside the point.

"That's not necessary," I tell her.

"Okay, it's not necessary." She doesn't look up while her fingers fly over the keys of her phone. "But I'm still coming."

"Speaking of coming . . ." I pluck the phone from her fingers and hide  it behind my back. "We didn't get to talk about what the doctor said  yesterday."

I can't read her face, but she stops reaching for the phone.

"Oh, she said I'm fine." She licks her lips, her brows jerking together  and her eyes shifting away. "I mean, we can . . . ya know."

My arm drops to my side and I hand her the phone without a word.

We can ya know wasn't exactly the response I was hoping for. I mean,  it's great that we can . . . ya know . . . but she doesn't sound too  enthusiastic about it, certainly not desperate for it like I am. I  swallow my disappointment and smooth over another layer of patience.

"Great." I clear my throat and glance down at my dark jeans, button-up,  and Jordans. "I look okay? I wasn't planning to be onstage but I-"

"Grip, I'm sorry," she interrupts. "You've been really patient, and I know it's been hard."

It's hard right now with the double addiction of her scent and her  nearness seeping into my veins and smoldering in my blood and headed for  my cock like a cum-seeking missile, but I play it off.

"Babe, it's okay." I cradle her face between my hands and caress her cheeks. "However long you need. I'm not some horny beast."

She gives me a look that says, I know you.

"Okay, I'm a horny beast." I laugh to keep from crying because I'm as  hard as Skid Row right about now. "But we have the rest of our lives."

If I say it enough, maybe this hard-on will believe me.

"Tonight, when I get home . . ." she starts.

"Tonight? Yeah, we can do tonight." Eager bastard. "Or tomorrow. Tonight works if you want."

"I was going to say it'll be late when I get home tonight." Bristol's  smile loosens because she's not so secretly laughing at me. "I have to  meet Jimmi when I leave the debate, and there's no telling what time  I'll get home."

I've fucked on less than two minutes of sleep before, but I don't point  that out. If there's a curfew on our new sex life, we can ease into  this.

"I'm . . . I don't know . . ." She shrugs. "Nervous? I know that sounds crazy. Are you nervous?"

"About sex?" I cannot wrap my mind around this concept. "Uh, no. Not even a little bit."

"Grip, oh my God." She laughs, and it does sound nervous, unsure, which  she's never been. What we've been through changed me, and it changed  her, maybe in ways I wasn't prepared for, but our vows didn't come with  conditions, and neither does my love.

Ask me when your belly is full like the moon,

and our love has stretched your body with my child,

Leaving your skin, once flawless,

now silvered, traced, scarred,

I will worship you.

My eyes will never stray.

My heart will never wander,

gladly leashed to you all my days.

I am fixed on you.

It's all still true and always will be. I couldn't have known to write  about losing that child, about losing bits and pieces of ourselves. You  don't see things like that coming, and you have no idea how it will  affect you. You can only choose the right person, the person you want to  go through shit with. Bristol is that person for me. I've always known  she could endure anything life threw at her, that she would fight right  alongside me. There's always been a strength in her, but now it's  titanium core.

"I'm not nervous because nothing has changed," I tell her, bending to align our eyes, our lips, our hearts.         

     



 

"Things have changed." She lowers her lashes, trying to hide from me. "My body and-"

"I love your body because it has you in it." I drag my lips over the  curve of her jaw, groaning at the taste of her along the way. "Sweet  Jesus, Bristol. How could you think anything has changed for me?"

"Not just physically." She glances up at me. "I don't feel the same."

At those words, my heart stumbles in my chest. A tundra inches over my whole body.

"About . . . me?" I can't regulate my breathing. "You don't feel the same about me?"

"Oh, God, no. Not that, Grip." She reaches up to touch the side of my  face, her eyes earnest. "I feel the same about you. You know I'm . . .  it's just . . . I'm all over the place. I've always been uninhibited  with you, and now I feel caged, like I've had to keep my emotions on  such a short leash lately, and there's something in me that's not free."

She spreads her hands and shakes her head, helplessness in the look she aims up at me.

"I'm not doing a good job of articulating this, but I'm-"

My phone cuts her off, and I want to hurl it and Amir across the room.

"Dude, what the hell do you want?" I snap.

"Put your dick up and get down here," Amir replies calmly, used to me. "Unless you want to be late and leave Iz hanging."

Shit. Have I mentioned that I hate Amir?

"Oh, and I got you a brace," he says.

"A brace? For what?"

"That carpal tunnel." His deep chuckle taunts me and my stiff dick and my sore wrist.

"Fuck you." I hang up and turn to Bristol. "Car's ready. You sure you want to go?"

"There's no way you're going-"

"A simple yes would suffice." I grab her hand, pausing to let her scoop up her clutch from the side table.

The town hall is being held at that same bookstore, and it's being  televised again. The magnitude of this hits me as I'm riding in the back  of the SUV, cramming like this is some quiz.

"I'm not Iz," I mumble, caressing Bristol's hand absently while Googling stats on my phone. "Ford's gonna eat me alive."

"Ford will wish he was facing Iz tonight instead of you." Bristol  stretches her eyes at the skeptical look I offer in response to that bit  of ridiculousness. "I'm serious. Iz may have the degree and the books  and the credibility and the-"

"Let me know when you get to the reassuring part, babe."

"And all those things." She pauses, leaning her head onto my shoulder.  "But you have passion. You're brilliant. You know these issues. You've  lived these issues. Just tell them what you know, what you've  experienced."

Her confidence soothes my tattered nerves, and her reassurances give me  peace in a way no one else can. She's always done that. Her eyes glow  with pride and love and confidence in me. This feels like us. It's been  months since we felt like us, since there's been any ease around us,  between us. Maybe it's being in a different city. Maybe it's knowing  we're rounding a bend with Dr. Wagner loosening the chastity belt.  Whatever it is, it feels good. For the first time since Zoe died, it  feels right.

Even before we lost Zoe, the shadow of loss hung over us for months. I  know we'll never be the same. We'll bear the scars of the ordeal we've  suffered, but we'll still be us. It's not about what we endure, but that  we endure, the fact that I ain't going nowhere, and neither is she, no  matter what's tossed our way.