Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (20 page)

“Put them things away before you hurt someone,” he says, puckering his lips.

I mimic his duck lips.

“Jealous?”

“Maybe?”

Somehow, he manages to push those lips out even more. One word- collagen. Every six months when he gets them done again, he reminds me of Goldie Hawn from
First Wives’ Club
. They’re freaking comical, but I love it.

Turning away from him, I take a couple steps over to where my clothes are laid out. Frankie gives a shy giggle when I reach for my pants. My eyes snap over to him and my eyebrow raises along with the corner of my lip. Frankie straightens up to his full six foot height, smiling wide enough that I can see almost every tooth in his mouth.

“Can I touch them?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Huh? My other eyebrow raises as well.

“No.” I say clearly, giving him this look that says, ʻfuck that’.

“Oh, girl. It’s not like I haven’t felt them before when I was sizing you.”

“Yeah, but now you’re just staring at my chest, wanting to touch it
.
”

Frankie gives me this ʻbitch, please’ look.

“Honey, don’t be all flattering your sexy self.” He puckers his lips again, circling his wrist at me.

“This is just fucking crazy.”

His tone changes again and his eyes widen when he glances down at my chest again.

“Frankie!”

He starts laughing.

“What? There’s milk in there, I just wanted to see what it felt like.”

“You’re so fucking stupid.” I shake my head at him, my voice sounding mixed with a light laugh, and exasperated.

“And you’re such a hormonal bitch,” he says in comeback.

Placing his hands on his hips, he snaps his head. I want to start laughing now, but I hold it in.

“Yeah, okay. What’s your excuse?”

"Oooh,"
Frankie mouths.

I break into a smile as I shake my head at him and go back to getting dressed.

“Okay, on to more important matters…”

Frankie spins around too, swaying over to the empty chair that he used earlier to get me ready, dramatically kicking one leg over the other as he crosses them. Lacing his fingers in his lap, he drops his chin to his chest.

“When do I get to play with your new house?”

Frankie looks like a tiger that’s just found an antelope. His eyes are dark and shining. I rub my hands against the glossy material of my shirt. His eyes watch me as I come closer to him, stopping to pick my brush off the table. Looking down at it, I pull out a couple pieces of my hair and shrug just to torture him.

“Oh girl, you’re killing me!” Frankie whines.

“I want it done before the baby is born.”

His eyes are round and moist as he cups his hands over his mouth.

“May I design the nursery?” he mumbles through them.

“Uh... yeah, Frankie. That was kind of the point when I asked you to help me out with the new house.”

“Really?”
he asks, his voice high, then tips the side of his head so his cheek brushes his shoulder.

Seeing Frankie get this happy right now makes me glad I’m able to make him feel good. Yeah, it’s just decorating, but to Frankie, it’s Wonderland.

“Just no zoo animals,” I point at him, smiling.

He pinches his fingers together.

“Not even a cute little monkey?” he teases. “Well, I’ll be over in a few days to pick you up. You two have a safe flight.”

He clasps his hands together and leaps out of the chair. Wait, what? I turn around to face him as he heads for the door.

“What’s going on in a few days?”

He comes to a stop, the lean muscles of his back flexing underneath his shirt.

“The fabric store,” he says, grinning over his shoulder at me.

Damn… Frankie can spend days in there. The guy would have a freaking slumber party there if they would let him. I laugh to myself.

“Frankie, I trust you. You just go ahead.”

He spins around on his heel so fast that I almost get whiplash. He jumps up and down, his medium length blond hair bouncing off his shoulders every time his feet hit the ground.

“You’re gonna fucking love it, I swear!” He shows me the palm of his hand as if I were a cop.

“I know,” I say to him as I step in for a hug. Frankie’s long arms wrap around my body.

I don’t know how long we stood there holding each other, but it felt good. I love my friend. He’s been there right along with me these last couple years through some pretty crazy shit, always holding my hand, or hair. When I feel my eyes moisten, I close them to trap the tears behind my lids. Frankie’s soft chuckle vibrates through his chest.

“Fucking hormones,” I say as I let go, wiping underneath my eyes real quick.

He just smiles sincerely down at me. Now I just have to go out there and sing one more song, then our first tour from the new album is over. Holy shit.

Frankie freshens my makeup and runs a curling iron through my hair. It’s been over a half an hour and I need to get going.
Pieces Undone
has been getting pretty good feedback online.

“Go, girl.” Frankie snaps his fingers again and begins packing his things away.

“See ya.” I twiddle my fingers at him and head out.

“Oh, Sophia. I was just coming to get you,” Tom, another tech, says to me when I step out into the narrow hallway.

Tristan’s voice fills the air with its deep, rich, soothing sound. I head for the side of the stage and another tech hands me a mic before I step out, maneuvering around Ryan since the area is so small. Bringing the mic to my mouth, I begin to wail over Tristan’s gentler tone, screaming through all the lies and pain that this part holds.

Dropping the hand with the mic to my waist, I head over to Tristan. Fuck. I didn’t notice when I first stepped up here, but he’s taken his shirt off. The muscles in his back and shoulders flex and contract as he sings his pain into the mic. Standing off to the right of him, I begin to tell my side of the story. My voice lighter, softer, prettier, holding its own against Tristan’s thrashing.

Caleb starts his wicked solo, his fingers effortlessly dancing with each other as he curls his head around the bottom of the neck. Tristan turns to face me before bringing the mic back to his mouth. I close my eyes as the final wails of this song pierce through my chest. My throat and lungs are on fire, but it feels so fucking good.

Then out of nowhere, as soon as Tristan finishes, he wraps his arm around my neck. Pulling me into him, he kisses my forehead. Tristan steps back and turns me around to face the crowd, keeping me against his side.

“Isn’t she fucking beautiful?”

Fuck,
I love him, but I'm so embarrassed as everyone lights up and cheers and whistles. My eyes try to take in as much of the sight of happy fans as I can while my heart absorbs this exact moment... everything. My head falls back over Tristan’s forearm which is still wrapped around my neck as I stare up at the lights, smiling. Loving this fucking moment.

Chapter Twenty

Tristan

“Fucking Frankie. How did he talk me into this?” Sophia pouts as she tries to tug the bottom of her fucking killer leather dress.

My heart stopped the moment she came out of the bedroom dressed for tonight.

“You’re hot, babe.”

I tuck her under my arm as we head for the car. We have a driver tonight to take us to the Metal Gods awards.

“Yeah, okay.” She huffs and rolls her darkly shadowed eyes.

My girl is fucking smoking. She has on this short, leather dress with side cutouts filled in with black lace. She’s paranoid that she’s not sexy now that she’s six months pregnant, but damn, she’s even more fucking perfect now. I get pissed at her sometimes, because even now, you can barely tell she’s knocked up.

“Be careful,” I say in her ear as I help her to the car, carting herself around on these black skyscraper heels. My mouth fucking waters as my eyes run up the length of her toned legs.

She steps out of the way as the driver comes around and opens the back door. We’re taking an SUV, not a limo. Tonight, Dollar Settlement is getting recognized as best new band. Grabbing her by the waist, I gently haul her up to the seat.

“Tristan!”

“Shut up,” I smirk at her.

When I let go of her waist, she’s able to swing her legs over. I know she gets embarrassed by me doing that kind of shit sometimes. If she wasn’t pregnant, she wouldn’t give a shit, but now...
Christ.
She turned all crazed feminist on my ass. Fuck that. She needs to just let go and let me take care of her. So now, I’m just doing it. Not tiptoeing around her.

“Fuck you,” she grins at me, twisting her long, thick hair in her hands then sweeping it over so it drapes across her left shoulder.

“Fuck you, too,” I say back to her. It’s become kind of our own fucked up endearment. 

Stretching my arm out, I rest it behind her head as the driver gets back in and takes off.

“So, you said Lux is sending a ride over to get your boys?” I ask her as we pull out onto the main drive.

“Yeah,” she nods. “They’re probably already good and buzzed by now.”

She glances up at me and grins.

“
Aw…
do you wish you could be good and buzzed?”

My index finger gently flicks her nose. She scrunches up her face at the contact. Brushing my hand away, she shakes her head.

“Nah, I don’t miss hangovers.”

Her smile widens. I smile back, knowing she actually feels good right now. When we came back from Europe, it was only a short while before I noticed her getting livelier and actually wanting to eat again. 

By the time we arrive at the venue, it’s dark. Sophia’s leg trembles against mine.

“You all right?” I lean over and ask.

“I’m good,” she nods.

No, she’s not, fucking woman. Her knee won’t stop bouncing. I roll my own fucking eyes at her as the driver puts the vehicle in park and jumps out. Sophia glances at her phone. The glow reflects off her face when she picks it up, her eyes scanning across the screen.

“They’re in,” she says before handing it to me.

She didn’t want to bring a purse or anything, and since I’m just wearing a black button down shirt and some jeans, I slide her phone into my front pocket along with mine. Her eyes watch my every movement. Fuck, my dirty girl. I just fed her before she got ready, but judging by how her eyes scan up my body, she wants more.

I give her that fucking smirk that tickles her clit and her body jumps when the driver opens her door. Her sapphire eyes narrow at me as she grins, pressing her thighs together before twisting around to get out. I climb out and walk around the back, giving her my hand when her beautiful leg extends from the vehicle.

“It’s okay, you know,” I say down to her. “You already know that your band has it.”

She hooks her small arm through mine as I lead her up to the doors. Of course some paps are here, but it's mainly magazines and stations. Metal awards don’t get as much hype as would the fucking Grammy’s or something. But as I glance over Sophia’s head, I’m fucking proud of the crowd I see.

Butcher Babies’
Monster’s Ball
jams as we head in. Sophia stops and her mouth drops, her tiny hand squeezing the inside of my elbow. I look down at her shocked face before trying to scan the room to see what she’s freaking about. After looking at a bunch of faces, I see some people talking in groups while others find their seats at the tables or aisles right away.

“What?”

“Fucking Corey Taylor,” she breathes.

What the…?
Looking back up, I watch my girl fucking drool over him. Fuck that. This kind of thing is still new for her. Yeah, she told me she met some bands here and there these last couple years, but tonight I watch her light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Oh, God. Look,” she mumbles into my chest as I have my arm wrapped back around her.

I don’t know where the fuck I’m supposed to look, but I’m guessing it’s probably someone else she’s freaking over.

“Yo!”

Roger stands, signaling with his hand. Sophia looks up at me before she walks out from underneath my arm and heads over to him. The thing I like about these kinds of awards is, it doesn’t matter how you dress. Either fucking smoking like my girl, or everyday clothes like… Roger.

“Tristan,” he grins at me before pulling me into a bear hug when I walk up to the table.

Fuck. He slaps my back before going back to his chair.

“I didn’t even know anything about us being nominees ’til Lux said something last week, sneaky fucker,” he yells over the noise.

Sophia is taking with Jared and Jeff who are both sitting. When she leans between them, I get a shot of her cleavage. Fuck. My eyes widen. They’re all just going on laughing about something and I’m obviously not giving a shit what Roger is saying.

“You guys heading home then, hey?”

Roger tips his chin up at me, holding his glass mid-air. This place has pretty decent space inside. It’s almost dark when you walk in, but the closer you get to the stage and near the bars, a red glow illuminates the space. The color bounces off of Sophia’s cheekbones when she smiles. It’s so fucking cool that they get this. I’ve been around over a decade now, and I’ve seen my share of shit, but if any band deserves this tonight, it’s definitely them.

I guess I might as well grab a seat, since this is probably where we’re gonna be staying. Gripping the steel back of the chair, I pull back as far from the table as I can for my knees not to hit. Sophia notices me sitting there and comes back around the table, fucking glowing as she walks up to me with an excited smile.

“This is so fucking crazy!” she leans over and whispers in my ear, her small hands resting on my chest.

She glances over her shoulder and slowly takes a seat. I hurry and straighten up so I can lean over the side and grip the back of her chair so it doesn’t slip.

“I’m gonna get a drink. You want something?”

I bend closer to her so she can hear me better. Her tongue peeks out and glides across her lips.

“Cranberry juice.”

Should’ve known. That’s all she wants to drink lately. Gripping her chin with my thumb and forefinger, I give her a kiss as I stand up. When I open my eyes, hers are still closed as shadows of light flicker across her face. Letting her chin go, I head up to the bar that’s closest to me, which is on the left by the main doors. I could have just waited for someone to come to the table, but I don’t care. It gives me something to fucking do, I guess.

The steel bar top seems like it fucking goes on forever as it covers almost the entire wall, splitting off into different levels in a couple spots. Barely clad chicks and dudes just hang around.

“What you having, man?” a younger looking guy asks as he leans over the bar.

His forearms sport a couple of tats. Scanning the illuminated shelf behind him, I order.

“Cranberry with ice and a,” something catches my eye that sits on the shelf, “I guess I’ll have a Bombay and tonic.”

I order one of my girl’s favorites. I remember the way her mouth used to taste after she would drink.

Leaning against the bar top, I look back out at the space as it fills with more people. Staring back out at Sophia, my grin deepens when I see her trying not to be obvious when one of the bands she listens to walks by. Her lips tip up in a fucking breathtaking smile. I don’t even realize at first that the bartender slides my drinks over. I can’t fucking stop staring at her.

Turning my back, I roll each sleeve and slide it up my arms. With a drink in each hand, I turn around to head back and see some chick talking to Sophia. The closer I get back to the table, the more I try to make out who it is. Fuck if I know. Just some random blonde with fake tits and a tight dress. She’s probably with Matt because she stands between him and Sophia as they sit.

What the fuck?

By the time I get to the table, my girl doesn’t even notice me; her hands are sprawled out over her growing belly, her blue eyes slicing the other bitch with a glare. Bending over her, I kiss the top of her head and set her drink on the table. Glancing up, I see that chick staring at me with a fucking smirk on her face.

“Thanks, baby.”

Sophia turns around in her chair so that she’s facing me. I know that bitch isn’t still staring at us? What the fuck is she doing just standing here, anyway?

“You all right?”

My eyebrow rises slightly when I study her face. Sophia drops her eyes, her lashes fluttering against her cheekbones. She lets out a huff and rolls her eyes to herself before looking back up at me.

“I shouldn’t have worn this.”

For fucks sake!

“Sophia…” I lean over so that I’m an inch away from her face, breathing down on her. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

Her face lights up with a hint of a smile, her eyes softening.

“Sorry. It’s just that stupid whore-”

“Um, excuse me?” An annoying, high-pitched voice squeaks behind Sophia.

That chick didn’t leave. Glancing up at her, I grin as I watch her face scrunching up as she looks down at my girl. A half smile dawns on Sophia’s full lips.

“Baby, will you?”

She reaches her hand out for me to grab. What? She actually wants me to help her? Taking hold of hers, she places her other hand on the steel table top and stands up.

Sophia turns around fucking gracefully in those heels, her hands resting loosely on her hips. Tilting her head to off to the side slightly, she fucking laughs in that dumb bitch’s face.

Roger slaps my arm. I look over at him leaning in on his folded arms, laughing.

“Sophia’s all hormonal and shit,” he says, laughing even harder, then leaning back on his arms. “She’s gonna tear that chick apart.”

Jared and Jeff grin at the display. Whoever she is, she is trying to point at Sophia, but my girl calmly raises her hand in front of her, stopping that bitch’s finger.

“Don’t,” she warns, but with a tinge of laughter in her voice.

“You have no right calling me a whore!”

“You’re right,” Sophia nods, then goes on. “The proper term that I should’ve used was a retarded bitch.”

Fuck. Roger busts up laughing as the other guys try to hide their grins but do a shitty job of it.

The chick’s eyes widen.

“What the fuck did you-?”

Sophia cuts her off.

“You’re a retarded bitch, because, clearly, I’m fucking pregnant,” Sophia waves her hand over her belly, “and you had the fucking nerve to traipse over here and insult me about how I’m fucking dressed.”

Sophia folds her arms over her chest; fuck, that chest.... popping her hip out. The blonde pushes her hands out defensively, obviously trying to heat Sophia up.

“Calm down! I just said that I wouldn’t be wearing something that tight if I was gaining weight.”

Sophia throws her head back as she laughs hard right in that chick’s face.

“Get the fuck out of here. You’re too fucking stupid to waste my time,” she says, shaking her head.

Sophia steps closer, raising her hand an inch away from that chick’s face. Holy fuck. I watch closely just in case that bitch really is dumb and tries to do something to my girl. I can’t hit a woman, but I can push her ass back, though.

Her eyes glare at Sophia, who steps to her again. Goddamn. She’s fucking sexy. The dumb bitch doesn’t say anything more, but she finally huffs off.

“Man, you should’ve slapped that butterface,” Jeff laughs as he tips his drink back.

“Nah, she really is too fucking stupid,” Sophia grins at him before stepping around her chair.

Leaning to the side, I hold the back as she takes a seat again.

“Thanks,” she smiles over at me. Grinning back at her, I cop a feel of her tit real quick as she scoots her chair in. She hurries and slaps my hand away.

“Tristan!” she squeaks, looking embarrassed.