The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue 2)

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says right away.

“I’m not asking for the world, but if you want me to stay, I need more.”

With a swallow, he nods. “I know. I didn’t even realize I was . . . keeping you out. It wasn’t on purpose.”

I replace the self-help book on grief on the shelf and go to him, rounding the couch. “I don’t blame you—we had a deal. But now we have a new one.”

After a few tense seconds, one corner of his mouth lifts. “We do? What would that be?”

“We’re allowed to fall in love.”

He raises his eyebrows. “And?”

“That’s it. We take it day by day. We stay honest with each other.” I chew my bottom lip. “Or, we walk away like we originally planned. But I know I’ll always wonder what could’ve been if . . .” I’m out on the ledge alone. I’m tempted to look at my hands, but I hold onto a thread of courage. This is new for both of us, and he deserves my patience.

“If what, Amelia?”

“If I had let myself love you.”

His expression sobers. “I would wonder too. Always.” He sits on the couch. Taking my hand in his, he tugs me down next to him. “She made us my favorite dinner that night. Back then, I didn’t cook. I didn’t clean or do much of anything around the house, honestly. I was just trying to get the garage going, and that took up a lot of my time.”

“You sound like you regret that,” I say.

He nods. “Part of what I struggle with is the fact that I wasn’t a good boyfriend. I thought I made up for that by being a good dad, but Shana didn’t see it that way.”

I bring our laced hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “You blame yourself.”

“Sometimes.” He pulls my legs over his lap, and I settle back against the opposite arm so I can see him. “We all went to bed that night. When I woke up, Bell was crying in her crib. Shana was nowhere to be found, but she didn’t have a job or anywhere she had to be at six in the morning. Once I’d calmed Bell down, I went into my closet. Most of her things were gone. I panicked and called the police, but they knew better. When I admitted her things were missing, they told me to wait a couple days.”

He leans forward and picks up his drink before passing me mine. “So, she was gone. I called her mom, who said Shana was safe but that was all she could tell me. I would’ve gone to her parents’, but they lived hours away, and I was saddled with Bell and work. Plus—I was fucking bitter. I wasn’t about to go banging on her door, begging her to come back. Eventually, when I was ready to face her, her parents said she was no longer there.”

“Where was she?”

He shakes his head. “Either they didn’t know, or they wouldn’t tell me. Her mom wanted to come visit, but I held Bell like ransom. It was a way of punishing Shana, not letting her parents see Bell.”

“Didn’t they fight you?” I ask. “They’re her grandparents.”

“Not hard enough.” He clears his throat. “All of this happened right before Bell’s third birthday. I would’ve been happy to crawl into a hole and drink myself stupid, but I couldn’t. We had friends and family coming over. I spent the party explaining Shana’s absence and getting a sickening amount of pity. At one point, I actually went into the bathroom and puked.”

“God,” I say, covering my heart. “That’s awful.”

“I was fucked. Because I worked a lot, Shana had handled almost everything when it came to Bell. Sure, I helped out in the evenings, but I had no idea what went on during the day. Sadie and Nate came for a weekend and forced me to man up. I wanted to go straight to the bar and drown myself in liquor.”

“That’s why you got that tattoo,” I say.

He nods. “The stress of suddenly being a single parent, plus the fact that I’d loved Shana, sent me into a black hole. But I couldn’t let that show when I was around Bell, which was basically every hour of every day.”

“What about the garage?”

“My guys held it down.” He looks into the distance and nods. “They’re my family. At home, Flora and Denise stepped in. Flora was a friend of my grandfather’s, and Denise was Shana’s close friend, so they knew Bell. My parents were useless.”

I shake my head. Flora was more than a babysitter, Sadie more than a sister, Denise more than a fling. They’d seen Andrew and Bell through a horrible time. “How’d you get through it?”

“Bell. And my grandfather. He was my role model, and I just kept thinking—if he were here, what would he do? I asked myself that every day for years, and every day, I got my answer. He was a real man. He faced responsibility head on. Once he decided to get sober, he never looked back.”

“I’d like to have met him.”

He smiles a little. “He would’ve loved you. Grandpa had two weaknesses—women and cars.”

“What about your grandma?”

“They split soon after my dad was born, she moved away, and she passed a few years ago.” He pauses, swirling his drink as he thinks. “So that’s it.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “Until now? Did she say why she left?”

He squeezes my knee. “It’s not easy for me to say. I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me.”

I shift against the arm of the couch. If there’s anything to fear about Andrew and his situation, I want to know now. “Go ahead.”

“She never wanted to get pregnant. Bell was an accident, but I pressured Shana . . . I wasn’t exactly open to other options.” He glances at his hand on my leg. “Motherhood was hard for her. She cried a lot. She didn’t connect with Bell. And I made her feel as bad as possible about it, because I didn’t understand. How could she not want this perfect baby that was somehow the tiniest and most enormous thing in my life?”

My chest pangs with regret. When I first met Andrew, his status as a father didn’t appeal to me. Children were nuisances. He never made me feel bad about that—it’s not like either of us had planned on me meeting her—but now that I’m getting to know Bell, I feel protective over her. “Knowing how important Bell is to you, that must’ve been difficult for both of you.”

“I was an asshole. I didn’t give any merit to her doubts or concerns. Considering her penchant for drama, I assumed she was just trying to get a rise out of me—which she usually did. I wasn’t always this . . . sensitive.”

I laugh. Big, hulking, gruff Andrew—sensitive? I’m about to protest, but Andrew really is more sympathetic to and understanding of my needs than any other man I’ve dated. As tough as he comes off, he takes care of what he loves. Shana’s mistakes are my gain. “What changed?” I ask.

He blows out his cheeks with an exhale. “A lot. Bell taught me so much about the opposite sex. She started to come into her personality. I can’t fathom ever discrediting how she feels or trying to change or control her like I did with Shana. That, and with time, I gained perspective on my relationship with Shana. I saw how I’d let her down. Where I could’ve done better.”

“But it couldn’t have been all you,” I say. “You said she was dramatic.”

“Absolutely,” he says. “She wasn’t exactly the gold standard of girlfriends. More than once, I’d come home to find Flora watching Bell because Shana had taken off with some girlfriends. She wouldn’t check with me because she knew I’d say no. She’d come home wasted and make enough noise to wake up the baby, then bitch about the fact that Bell was always crying.”

I cover Andrew’s hand, not to console him, but myself. It’s uncomfortable to hear about another woman’s family and how she let them down. “I’m sorry.”

“She kissed me.” The direct statement surprises me enough that I take my hand back. “At the bar, before I came over tonight. She tried to get me to go home with her.”

I stare at him. Andrew watches me open and close my mouth. This is my weakness—other women. Unfaithfulness. I trust Andrew.

Enough to ask what I want to know. It’s a step forward that I’d even be able to trust his answer. I pull my legs from his lap and sit cross-legged. “Did you sleep with her?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “No. I realize you think all men lead with their dicks, but some of us are capable of controlling ourselves.”

“But it wouldn’t have been cheating,” I say, picking at nothing on the couch. “We weren’t together.”

“I’m aware. No matter how potent Shana can be, it would never be enough to make me forget about what she did to Bell. And, as it turns out, she isn’t enough to make me forget about you.”

I bite my bottom lip. We’ve demanded communication from each other from the start. The simple act of sharing Shana’s attempts means more than I thought it would. I unfold my legs and crawl to him. He checks over his shoulder, presumably toward Bell’s bedroom, before pulling me into his arms. “With Shana, it was just lust,” he says. “I’m not in lust with you, Amelia.”

I glance up at him. “Is that a good thing?”

He kisses me on the tip of the nose. “Do you think I could’ve honestly stopped myself from coming to your apartment tonight? That I could’ve ever accepted that money to stay away? Do you really think I’m not falling in love with you too?”

I get a rush of adrenaline, as if I’m at the edge of a cliff, one toe over. Any fear I might have is hidden by excitement, though. I’m not going to fall. I’m jumping. “You are?”

He nods. “I am, but make no mistake—just because I’m not in lust with you doesn’t mean I’m not crazy horny too.”

I laugh. “You’re such a poet.”

He smiles. “Just keeping it real.” Andrew locks his lips with mine for a hard, steamroll of a kiss that takes my breath away. He explores my mouth with his tongue, sliding his hand up my waist over my breasts.

“What was that for?” I ask breathlessly when he slows down.