Chapter 6

Talia

“Lily-Rose, if you’re going to help with these cookies, you have to stop eating the cookie dough,” I sighed, watching as Lily-Rose pulled her fingers from between her lips. She gaped up at me, a bit of chocolate on her chin. It was clear – I was the enemy here.

“But there are plenty of them!” she cried, splaying her little hands wide. “Why can’t we save some for ourselves?”

“The bake sale is tonight, baby girl,” I said, thrusting a final baking sheet into the oven. I dotted a towel on my brow, feeling the come-down of the past three hours of baking. “We need all five hundred of these cookies if we’re going to make enough money for the community center. You know that.”

Throughout the past week, since fucking Fox, I’d been in a mad rush organizing the second bake sale for the community center, as well as an upcoming benefit concert to be held at the pavilion. Beyond that, I’d signed up to cook meals for the homeless shelter near Lake Lemon, flying from picking Lily-Rose from baseball, to dropping her at Fox’s studio for practices, to helping people all across town. I’d had to drop by the pharmacy to work odd hours, counting pills, stocking shelves, and feeling the general weight of all I’d agreed to do.

I was frazzled, my eyes bugging out of my head. But miraculously, I’d avoided Fox almost entirely. Slowly, the memory of the way we’d fucked – his tongue rapt and attentive against my pussy, pulsing against my clit; an orgasm that had roared like a wave through my ears, my pussy, my breasts – had dissipated. It was nothing but a physical thing.

“Fox is going to be here any second,” I heard myself say, hating the rush I felt when I said his name. “He’s going to take you to your lesson. I have to drive these cookies over, and then drop by the pharmacy.”

“You work too much,” Lily-Rose said, snickering slightly. “Fox says that you’re always a mess.”

My heart felt ruptured. I lifted a spatula and began to scrape the near-burnt last batch of cookies from the pan, sliding them into a Tupperware container. “Is that so?”

The bang on the door sprung me forward toward the living room. Fox’s dominant form appeared on the other side of the glass. In the past few weeks, his hair had grown out longer, swirling toward his ears in a more boyish, rock-star way. The look was intoxicating. Immediately, I felt alert, my eyes wider.

Opening the door, I tried not to look into his eyes. They were far too powerful, alluring. Glancing at his boots, I said, “Lily-Rose is all ready, actually. Just going to grab her shoes.”

Fox splayed his hand on the outer edge of the doorframe, his eyes almost burning a hole into me. The tension was palpable, making my face burn.

“I was thinking we could do the lesson at your place today, if that’s all right,” Fox said, his voice a bit softer, a bit kinder than usual. “The practice rooms are getting painted, turns out. But I didn’t want Lily-Rose to miss her lesson.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze. Behind his bright green eyes, I saw only a wave of compassion—perhaps just for Lily-Rose, but also, perhaps, for me. With my schedule one of insanity, of havoc, I felt strung-out. I yearned to bring my forehead to his chest. I so longed for him to tell me it would be all right.

I didn’t know why I wanted so much from him.

“Okay,” I heard myself sigh, opening the door wider. “I have so much going on. I might be in and out of the house throughout the lesson, if that’s all right.”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Fox said, stepping into my living room. I inhaled the musk of him, feeling my heart bump with lust.

Lily-Rose scampered forward to say hello, her fingers covered with cookie dough. I felt a small smile stretch over my lips, watching them join together.

“What are you doing, munchkin? You can’t very well play the piano with cookie dough all over your fingers,” Fox said, speaking playfully. “Go on and wash your hands.”

As Lily-Rose rushed toward the bathroom, giggling, I cleared my throat. “Listen, Fox,” I began, wondering exactly where my words would land. “It’s just, well. The community center is having this benefit concert. And I think it would be really wonderful if you could help Lily-Rose prepare something for it. You know, even if it’s something as simple as Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

Even as I spoke, I knew the question I so yearned to ask him actually was—wouldn’t he like to perform? He was our town’s biggest celebrity, a man who would bring people in droves to the benefit concert. And beyond that, I wanted so badly to see him perform, cutting across that stage with a guitar strapped to his back, chin high, black hair flailing behind his back.

There was such an arrogance to him, a dominance. He forced the crowd to follow his will. And he’d had that talent since I’d met him at the age of twelve.

But I knew if I asked him, he would surely flake, drop from the planet two hours before without a word. It was just his way. So I pressed my lips tightly together, darting back toward the kitchen. It was better not to hope.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Fox asked suddenly, his voice dark and his eyes toward the driveway.

I slid back to the door, staring out the screen. The familiar pickup truck cranked to a halt, with Andrew, Fox’s younger brother, darting from the front seat. He opened the passenger door, revealing his pregnant wife, Jessica. Jessica’s belly bulged from beneath her t-shirt. Andrew dotted his lips across Jessica’s, a private moment, before guiding her toward the door.

I hadn’t been expecting them.

“Hey there!” I called, pushing open the screen door. “What are you guys doing out and about?”

Andrew lugged a backpack with him, gesturing with it. He was the antithesis of Fox in many ways – blonder, brown-eyed, and with innocent eyes. He wore a father’s outfit already, with a flannel shirt tied at his waist, ratty tennis shoes edged with grass. After Fox had skipped town, Andrew had driven to my house and sat beside me in my parents’ backyard. He’d held my hand as we’d listened to crickets chirping, feeling like the rest of the world was whirling by without us.

We’d had to craft our own reality.

“I brought the canned food for the food drive for the homeless shelter. I told you I would!” Andrew said.

Suddenly, Fox stepped forward, filling half the space of the doorway. He towered over his brother and Jessica, strapping his arms across his chest and speaking in a booming voice. “I suppose it was about time I’d run into my kid brother.”

Andrew’s face grew sour, pinched. He was a cornered child in a playground. “James,” he said, speaking Fox’s actual name, and a name I knew he hated. “Three months back in town, and not even a call?”

“That phone goes both ways, kid,” Fox said.

Andrew turned his eyes toward me, incredulous. “Talia, I don’t suppose I can talk to you for a moment? Maybe in the backyard?”

“Whatever you can say to her, you can say to me, too,” Fox said, stepping forward. His biceps bulged out from his t-shirt.

Lily-Rose rushed from behind us, her hands clean. She waved a haughty hand toward Andrew, lifting her eyebrow. “Oh, hey,” she said, her tone lackluster. Around her, the tension was taut, something she blared through without pause. The adults stared one another down, Jessica’s eyes burning a hole through mine.

“Well, you ready?” Lily-Rose asked Fox.

“Sure thing,” Fox said, stepping back into the house. “Why don’t you start your scales?”

“Teaching her music lessons?” Andrew asked me, incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You know he’ll just abandon her the second he sees a sweeter piece of ass—“

“Andrew!” Jessica whispered, her voice harsh. “Don’t curse.”

As Fox and Lily-Rose situated themselves on the piano bench, I pulled the front door to and stepped toward Andrew. His eyes were dark, cavernous.

“I know what I’m doing,” I told him, my voice quivering.

“Oh, like you knew what you were doing when you told him you wanted to marry him—and then he skipped town to join a rock band?” Andrew scoffed. “Because he hasn’t changed, Talia. You have. At least, I thought you’d gotten a bit more sensible.”

“You’ve got responsibilities now!” Jessica cried, sliding her hand across the bulge of her belly.

I felt myself stuttering. Inside, Lily-Rose had begun her scales, with the firm voice of Fox coaching over her. “Lighter touch, Lily-Rose. Remember? Like you’re petting a kitten.”

“I promise, I can handle it,” I whispered. Gripping the backpack filled with cans, I lurched back onto the top of the porch. “Lily-Rose comes first. And it’s not as if I would just fall back into the arms of Fox Taylor. He hurt me once. You know I wouldn’t let that happen again.”