If Dex didn’t already have a piece of my heart, he has it all now. Watching him teach Neil how to play drums is beyond endearing and makes my heart clench. I’ve not seen Neil’s attention on one thing last this long in a while. I can tell he likes Dex and Dex’s patience is admirable. I hear Dex say, “Let’s try it one more time on this drum. What’s it called?”

“Ummmm…the tom-tom?” Neil answers.

“Right. Good job.”

CJ runs in, alerting them to our presence. Dex looks up and winks at me, then asks, “You wanna join us? I have an acoustic guitar over here.”

“Maybe.” I’m still unsure, but being here in his music room makes me want to play… just a little bit.

CJ slips under the drum set and is pounding the bass with his hand until Dex grabs him and tickles him before placing my little whirlwind of energy beside him. He hands him a stick and says, “Hit the middle, not the rim. Okay, CJ?”

CJ bangs once and hits the rim, then asks, “The shiny part is the rim?”

“Yep. Don’t hit that part.”

I walk behind them, letting my fingers drag over Dex’s shoulders as I pass. Picking up the guitar, I strum once, then start tuning it until I’m satisfied. Lots of banging on the drums distracts the boys, but I see Dex sneaking peeks at me while a small, knowing smile crosses his face. His lure worked and I took the guitar bait, too tempted being here in the easiness of his music room to resist. Sitting down on the edge of a recliner, I stroke the neck of the guitar, sliding my fingers up the slick wood and back down again. I position my fingers and start strumming again, but this time a melody I know by heart, my own song that I’ve been working on in my head and writing down on my laptop.

When I look up, my gaze meets Dex’s and I don’t stop, fighting the feeling to hide the music away. The notes come to me by memory, easy in their flow, the music dancing in my head, leading my hands. Then I stop. This is the part where I always stop, my head getting in the way of my heart. It’s too heavy.

“You okay?” Dex asks, his furrowed brow showing his concern.

My breaths quicken as I struggle to control my emotions. Trying to halt the panic, I close my eyes and forcefully slow my breathing. I block out the fact that I know Dex is watching me freak out and try to concentrate on regulating each breath instead. When I reopen my eyes, Dex is kneeling before me. His hand covers my knee, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m okay.”

He nods, then stands up. “C’mon guys, let’s go get cookies in the kitchen.” Drumsticks are dropped with a careless clang and both boys race for the kitchen. Dex says, “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

As soon as he’s gone, I take a deep breath and then another. Standing up, I pick up the drumsticks so it’s not messy in here, having a strong desire to busy myself. I place the guitar back on the stand and turn out the lights. When I return to the living room, I see them outside, the boys running in the large grassy area to the left of the pool. Dex is sitting under the patio, two juiceboxes and two glasses on the table next to him.

I walk out the open door and laugh, “You have juiceboxes?”

As I sit across the table from him, he turns to me, his sunglasses covering his eyes. “I stocked up on kid essentials. I have popsicles too.”

His sweet gesture sweeps me up in the moment and I smile. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed.” We turn our attention to watching the kids, but he asks, “How long have you been getting panic attacks?”

“I’m not sure you want to hear about it.”

“If I’m asking, I want to hear about it.”

“I had my first when I went into labor with CJ.”

His attention is now fully on me. Turning in his chair, he rests his elbows on the table. “Do you know what brought it on?”

“Hindsight says I do…”

He lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head and looks at me, really looks at me. “You know, I was thinking about Cory. I know I’ve said it before, but I feel I need to say it again.” He glances away briefly then back to me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he died. I think about him all the time. I hear him when I play. It’s still hard for me to talk about him, but he was a great man, Rochelle.” I feel the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes, so I look away. After a calming breath, I feel strong enough to look back at him. When I do, he adds, “He was lucky to have you.”

Turning back around, I say, “Dex—”

“I never told you this before, but as much as I loved him…” He pauses and gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice in his throat.

I cut him off this time. “Don’t say it, okay?”

We stare into each other’s eyes, holding the moment a few seconds longer. Pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes, he gives a small nod before sitting back and looking out over the yard. From his profile, I can see his mood shift through his expression. He stands suddenly, grabbing his glass and going inside.

Following him in, I say, “I’m sorry. It just feels too personal—”

Anger covers his words. “It is fucking personal. It’s personal to me. You go back and forth between square one and practically having sex with me in the hot tub the other night. Maybe I’m unclear as to what the fuck is going on between us, but I know how I feel. So I guess you need to figure your shit out and let me know so this doesn’t end up messier than it needs to be.”

“Shit? It’s not shit, Dex. It’s my life. I don’t have to explain this to you. I owe you nothing.”

When I turn to leave, he says to my backside, “Go ahead. Leave. It’s safer that way, much like wearing your underwear in a hot tub.”

“You’re an ass, Dex.”

His comeback is swift and tinged with arrogance. “A sexy one if I interpreted the way you stared at me the other night correctly.”

I give my best pointed look. “You can interpret my stares however you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that I think there’s more truth to the tabloid tales than you like to admit.”

“Really, Rochelle? We’re going there? Because how I see it, we can skirt the issue all we want but somehow we keep ending up…” He steps closer and I stay strong, unwavering as his hands grab my hips and our mouths are only separated by our height difference. In a whisper, he says, “Right. Back. Here.” His lips press against mine, and my eyelids close as my mouth meets his in the middle.

“You’re right,” I say as my heels touch the ground again, my anger subsiding. Every time. Every time, he proves over and over how weak I am to him. I give in feeding his ego and say, “Fine. I like you.” I add a shrug to make it come off more casual, but he sees right through me.

A huge, obnoxiously cocky grin appears. “What? Rochelle Floros, did you just say you like me? I think I just kissed the pissiness right out of you.”

His teasing and the poke to my side makes me roll my eyes and smile. “Yeah, don’t hold it against me. I’m weak to a good kiss.”

Swiveling my hips against his, he raises an eyebrow and says, “It won’t be your like for me that I hold against you. Trust me on that.”

I swat his chest. “You are so bad.”

Leaning down, he kisses my neck, then whispers in my ear, “Which is what you ‘like’ so much about me.”

“Mama, I fell down.” Surprised by CJ, I turn just as he tugs the bottom of my shirt. “I need Band-aid.”

Dex bends down and picks him up. “I got one, buddy.”

“It hwerts,” CJ replies, then pouts his bottom lip out.

Dex sets him on the counter and pulls out a first aid kit from the cabinet. “Show me the damage,” Dex says.

I lean against the counter and watch, fascinated to see how this goes. CJ points to a small pinkish scrap on his left knee. There’s no blood, but Dex treats it like a medical emergency, all for show, for CJ. “Oh man, I think we’ll be able to save the leg, but we definitely need a Band-Aid on the situation. Let’s get you all fixed up.”

And there goes my heart, melting for the sweetness of this man. First he cleans the boo-boo, then he puts antibiotic ointment on, topped with a big Band-aid. “Better?”

“Mama kisses it. Makes it heal faster.”

I smile hearing my youngest say that, but it works. Dex bends down and kisses the bandage. “You think you’ll be able to run like that?”

CJ smiles and nods. Then he melts my heart by leaning forward and hugging Dex. I see the surprise on Dex’s face, but he takes my son and hugs him back, his expression one of appreciation. My heart blooms with emotion in the moment. CJ turns to me when they part and says, “Do we have time to play?”

“Ten more minutes, then we need to go. Okay?”

I watch as he runs off yelling to Neil how they scored ten more minutes.

Dex asks, “Only ten?”

“I need to get them to bed on time tonight. They start day camp tomorrow.”

While cleaning up the medical mess, he asks, “What about you?”

“I have two meetings tomorrow. Proposals for a tour next year. The events team wants to do something different.”

He turns, his eyes narrowed with irritation. “Next year? We don’t even know if we’ll tour next year. Damn, we leave to finish this tour off in two days.”

“Tours take a lot of time to plan. It’s good to hear the ideas. Doesn’t mean the band is doing it.”

With a heavy sigh, he puts the kit away, then looks at me. “So I’m leaving. Eight shows left.”

The topic of him leaving is not one I like to think about right now, but I try to convince myself otherwise. “Only eight shows. It’ll be okay.”

“You’re better at this than I am.”

“I’ve had more practice.”

“I’ve had none.”

“None?” I ask. “You’ve never left a girlfriend before? That can’t be right.”

Walking around me he stops in front of the back door. “I’ve never cared about anyone enough when I left to tour.”

“So what you’re saying is that you like me too.”

He chuckles. “Yes, I like you, as if that wasn’t already clear.”

* * *

The next day everything changed. It’s strange and kind of amazing how that happens. You think you’re finally figuring things out, but you’re not and stuff gets twisted… and tainted. No matter how you fight against the inevitable, fate finds you just to make sure you never forget the pain of the past.

It all started off with a knock on the door just as I was about to load the boys into the car to take them to camp. Janice stood there, a frown on her face. Tears in her eyes.

“Janice,” the name rushes from my mouth. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes settle on the kids behind me. “I forgot about camp. Can we talk when you get back?”

“Yes. Yes. I won’t be long.” I call the boys to come with me as Janice hugs them each before we leave. “I’ll be right back.”

The day camp is just down the street from my neighborhood, so it doesn’t take long to get there, but my thoughts are consumed with worry. I’ve not seen Janice so distraught since… since her son died. I gulp, the lump in my throat heavy with fear. The fear is something I try to swallow down in front of the boys. I don’t want to scare them.

After checking them in and making sure they’re all set, I head back home. When I open the door, Janice is pacing the living room. She looks up, and the devastation I saw earlier has morphed into anger. “How could you do it? How could you disrespect my son like this? Hurt your children?”

“What?” I ask, taken aback as the door closes behind me. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s on the internet.”

“What is?”

Another knock disrupts and I look at her like she might know who it is. Janice crosses her arms over her chest, and turns her back to me. The knocks turn to pounding and I rush to answer the door. It can only be someone who has my code, so I don’t expect to be surprised again, but I am when I open it. “Dex? Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies looking uneasy.

“What are you doing here?”

Janice’s voice carries over my head. “You chose him, a drug-addict over my son!”

“What?” Shocked by her statement, I turn back to her. “I don’t understand—”

Dex says, “Rochelle, she knows about us.”

Glancing back to him, I ask, “What does she know?”

Janice screams. “I saw the pictures online. Do you know how humiliated and hurt I am by what you’ve done?”

I’m shaking my head, my hands starting to follow suit. My breathing quickens, shallowing when all I want is to take a deep one.

Dex steps forward. “Janice, I know you don’t like me, but my feelings for Rochelle are genuine.” He enters my house with his hands up in surrender.

She continues to shout, the anguish she’s feeling heard. “I don’t care about your feelings. I care about my son!”

Dex still approaches her slowly. “I loved Cory like a brother—”

“Don’t you dare insert your despicable self into my family like that when you have done nothing but cause the band trouble! Cory was always there cleaning up your mess of a life and this is how you repay him?”

Her anger and Cory being dragged into this stabs my heart. My thoughts start to twist, so I reach for the nearest wall for balance. With my palm flat against the sheetrock, I close my eyes, but hear Dex say, “I’m not the same person I was before, Janice. You only know what you read and that’s not the truth anymore. Believe me. Our kiss was innocent, but sincere.”

My world is spinning—guilt, anger, sympathy, Dex, Cory, Janice, the kids as she yells, “I saw the posts with you and Rochelle kissing in public like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t care about anyone but yourselves or how this would make me or the boys feel. So much damage was done with your ‘innocent’ kiss.”

I collapse to my knees on the cold tile, my hands falling forward as my mind begins to blur.