Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) (21 page)

Holy fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me if I don’t start banging her more than twice a month. After cleaning up, I’m finally relaxed, and drift off to sleep with thoughts of Frannie on my mind.

The next morning I make it down to breakfast before Timothy even has time to make it up the stairs and get me. Ever since jerking off to that video of Frannie I’ve been horny as fuck. I can’t wait until all this treatment bullshit is over and I can get back to a normal life—one that includes fucking Frannie whenever I want.

Most of the other patients—or
clients
as all the staff call us—are already in their seats ready for breakfast. Frannie isn’t here yet, so I sit next to an empty chair to save it for her.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Josie purrs as she plops down in Frannie’s seat. “You’re looking good enough to eat this morning.”

Her come-ons make me want to roll my eyes so fucking bad. This girl is so not my type—not that I even had a type, looking back on all the random groupies I’ve fucked around with over the last year. And Gabby Rodriguez, I don’t even want to think about that screwed-up mess. Trip had been right about her. She was absolutely no good for me.

Josie’s still staring at me, waiting on me to flirt back with her like I’ve been doing lately. I’m really not in the mood to put up with this little game today, but I don’t want to piss off Frannie, so I play along.

I lean back and casually throw my around the back of Josie’s chair and give her my most devilish smirk. “Well, why don’t you come take a bite?”

She giggles and twirls her bottle-blond hair around her index finger as she slides her tongue along her top teeth. “Maybe I just might.”

I’m still pretending to be loving this wicked banter between Josie and I as I turn my head and notice Frannie staring at me with a pained expression.

Fuck.

I told her this wasn’t a good idea.

She’s pissed. How I’m ever going to drive it home to her that I am not some fucking douchebag, out to hurt her?

That’s it. This little fucking game is over. Either way, Frannie is going to be pissed at me, but I’d much rather it be for me doing the right thing and not flirting with people in front of her face.

The rest of the meal, Frannie doesn’t even look at me. Josie, on the other hand, won’t leave me the fuck alone.

For the third time in the last ten minutes, I shove Josie’s hand off my thigh. I furrow my eyebrows at her and tell her to stop each time, but this bitch is persistent as fuck.

I finish my meal in record time, because the second Frannie leaves this table, I’m going after her.

My gaze never moves from Frannie. Her plate has hardly been touched and yet she continues to sit there and pick at it. I need her to at least look at me.

Getting desperate for some sort of communication with her, I think of the only excuse I can to engage her in front of all these people. “Dr. Mead, is my appointment still right before lunch?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t look in my direction. “No, it’s after.”

I knew that. It’s been the same time every other day since I started here. I just needed to ask her something,
anything
that would make her speak to me.

Frannie pushes back from the table. “If you will excuse me, I have some work I need to get finished.”

I go after her, careful to not seem too passionate in my chase in front of the others, but she speeds up when she notices me hot on her heels, rushing through the office door before trying to shut it in my face.

I wedge my boot against the jamb, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Go away, Tyke.”

“No,” I tell her firmly and push on the door. “Let me in and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

She rolls her eyes but steps back reluctantly, allowing me to enter. The moment we’re alone, I question, “What the hell was that back there? You promised you wouldn’t get pissed. This was your idea, remember?”

She wraps her arms around her torso. “This isn’t going to work, Tyke.”

“Your idea? Yeah, I already told you it wouldn’t.”

“No, I meant you and me. We’re no good for each other.”

I look at her confused. “Why would you say that? I’ve already told you how I feel about you. If you think I’m just going to throw that away—”

“You say that now,” she cuts me off. “But soon you’ll be leaving. I’ll be just another woman you spent a couple months with, and that will be that. There’s no real tie between us—nothing forcing us to stay together when you’re on the road and I’m still here.”

I need to make her see how ridiculous she’s being. She wants to push me away because of the fear she has that I’m just going to hurt her and leave her.

Without permission, I take her into my arms. She stills like a statue, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing the back of her neck and grazing my thumb along her delicate skin. “I know what you’re doing, but I’m telling you right now that it isn’t going to work. You’re stuck with me, Frannie, so you might as well stop trying to push me away.”

Tears pool in her blue eyes, and I can tell my words are affecting her. She relaxes in my arms and stares up at me. “I wish that were true.”

“Believe it, Frannie. Believe in me. Believe in
us
. We can make this work; you just have to stop pushing me away. Trust me. I’m not going to leave you. You don’t have to fear being left behind by me.”

A soft sob comes out of her as she lays her head against my chest and finally returns my embrace. Pain radiates off her and I can feel it sinking into my bones. Frannie has been hurting for so long over her twin’s death. I’m not sure if I’m the best qualified person for the job, but I’m going to do my damnedest to heal her broken heart.

After I leave her office, I still know deep down there are so many things left unsaid between the two of us. I’m doing my very best to open up to her and tell her exactly how I feel about her, and yet it seems like she’s still keeping me at arm’s length.

I take a seat out by the fountain and prop my guitar on my thigh. Every time I come out here, I think of Frannie. This has become our place.

I pop the cap off the ink pen I brought out with me and open the notebook that Frannie gave me. The melody that was running through my head last night is still screaming at me. I need to get it down on paper.

The only lyrics I can think of all have to do with how I’ve been feeling lately about Frannie. All this pushing and pulling has my head spinning. One minute, I’m sure everything is going to work out, and the next moment, I don’t know what the fuck is happening between us. It drives me crazy, but being with her is worth it. I want to protect her from her pain. She makes me want to be better—not just for her, but for the band and myself.

As I strum the strings, words flow from me.

Push and Pull

Your skin makes me wanna touch you

Be a part of your world

So I push you, but I won’t let you fall

But you’re a hard girl to get through to

All I want is to hold you and tell you it’ll be all right . . .

When I push you . . .

You pull me back

There’s nothing like, a love like that

A love like that

Let me ask you

When’s the last time you’ve felt like that

Bet it was with me

Bet it was with me

I’m falling for you

It’s easy to see

Without you girl, I just ain’t me

There’s no future without you

Give it a chance girl, give into the pull

When I push you . . .

You pull me back

There’s nothing like, a love like that

A love like that

Let me ask you

When’s the last time you’ve felt like that

Bet it was with me

Bet it was with me

I stare down at the unfinished song, and it hits me. There’s definitely more than just a physical connection going on between Frannie and me. It’s entirely too early to say this, but I think I might just be falling in love with her.

“Try” – Pink

The guilt is really starting to get to me. Every time I give Tyke an out to walk away from me, he doesn’t take it. As a matter of fact, it only makes him fight harder to stay and convince me that he’s not going to hurt me.

Since Annie died, I haven’t been close to anyone. Not really. My father never mentions Annie and has very little time for me. Mother is, well . . . Mother—only concerned with herself. I never really had any other girlfriends who I was close to. They were more like acquaintances because Annie was my closest friend and the men in my past were just random passersby.

But Tyke . . . he’s different. Even though I’m here to help him overcome his addiction, he’s helped me in more ways than I can count. He’s the first person to be genuinely concerned for me, the first person who seemed upset when I cried. But not only has he helped me personally, but professionally, he’s my greatest success. The one client I seem to really be getting through to.

I know I’ve kept my being pregnant a secret from him because I’ve convinced myself that he’ll throw me away the first chance he gets, but maybe that isn’t a fair assessment of his level of commitment. He’s been nothing but accepting, and completely there for me when I’ve needed him over the past couple of weeks. Maybe he can handle the news of a baby.

I sigh deeply and stare down at his chart as I wait for him to come into my office for his scheduled therapy session. My mind is made up. I’ll tell him what I’ve been keeping from him so he’ll understand why I’ve been so upset lately.

The moment Tyke steps into my office, I frown as I take in the beaten-down expression on his face. This takes me aback because yesterday he seemed perfectly fine. It makes me wonder what happened between then and now.

I stand up and walk over to him as he shuts the door behind him. “Something wrong?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been working on some songs for the new album. Trip called yesterday and we went over some of the things the label has demanded, and it worries me that we won’t be able to produce enough songs in time. I’ve only written one so far. I’m pretty proud of it, but the rest are total shit.”

I poke my bottom lip out and wrap him into a hug. Tyke sighs into my hair as he returns my embrace. “It’ll come together. I believe you can do it. You’re amazing.”

“It wouldn’t worry me if I had more time, but they want us in the studio in two weeks to record new material, and we’re not ready. It’s times like these, when I’m stressed, that I . . . ”

He trails off, reluctant to finish his sentence, but I think I have a pretty good idea of what he’s eluding to.

I pull back and stare up at him. “Do you feel like you need to use?”

Shame washes over his face at my question, telling me the answer without him even speaking. It’s then I switch into therapist mode, using the techniques that I’ve been trained in.

“This is where you need to find the will inside to steer clear of the substances that you used for comfort when you feel stressed and anxious. You need to find other ways of calming those feelings, beside drugs.”

Tears pool in his eyes. “I really am a fucking junkie, aren’t I? I didn’t want to believe it. Going through detox was a huge fucking wake-up that I was fooling myself, but now . . . the craving is fucking
eating
at me.” He pauses. “I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to feel this way every time I get news that’s too hard to handle. What kind of man does that make me?”

I grab the hem of his shirt as the desperation rolls off him. I need to make him see how far he’s come already, and that he’s well on his way to overcoming the demons that plague him. “Listen to me, Tyke. You are a strong man. You can beat this. You have to find the will. You have to find something that’s worth fighting for.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and my heart breaks. The moment he reaches up to swipe it away, I grab his wrist and wipe it away for him with my free hand. “Don’t be afraid to cry with me. God knows you’ve seen me do it enough. Let me be the person who’s there for you, like you’ve been there for me.”