Dean

I set my beer next to me and jerk my head toward the back door when it flies open. A laughing Miles and Leila come crashing through, her hands all over him, eyes glassed over.

When Leila nearly falls to her knees in a fit full of laughter, her arms going around his waist for the support to stand, I’m on my feet and ready to beat the piss out of Miles for more than likely being the contributor to getting her drunk.

“For Christ’s sake, she can hardly walk. Look at her, Miles.” I take her from his unsteady hands, lay her down in the chair Tatum was just occupying, and within a flash, her glassy eyes soften when they remain glued to Miles.

What the hell kind of look was that?

She blinks and closes them on a sigh.

“You’re a dead man if you drove here. You hear me, Miles? Either you get some Goddamn help with your drinking, or I’ll be talking to Marcus about having a meeting to discuss kicking your ass out of the band. This is the last time, Miles.”

Alcohol abuse will always be a constant trigger that leads me down a dark, lonely road to my upbringing. I enjoy the relaxation I get from throwing back a few, but damn it, not like this. Maybe I should lay his ass out when he’s sober and remind this smart-mouthed punk what my life was like; maybe then he’d see things my way. Or better yet, remind him about the one good reason he needs to get his shit together instead of killing himself over it.

“Fuck off, man; you can’t kick me out of the band any more than I can kick you out. I had three beers before I saw her with a group of friends out on the dance floor. She was already lit by the time I talked to her. I did you a solid by bringing her home.” Fuck that. He can’t even do himself a solid by staying off the bottle. There is no way in hell he drove in this condition.

He’s also wrong. So Goddamn wrong. We might all be equal partners, and I love the twenty-eight-year-old like a brother, but when it comes to the safety of my daughter, it doesn’t matter who the fuck the person is. I will throw them down and pummel their face in. I don’t trust him as far as I can spit anymore.

“She might have been drunk, but I’d bet you helped her get shitfaced the way she is.” Before I can lay into his ass any further about his drinking and lies, there’s movement near my door. My worried eyes clear immediately as they focus in on Brock barreling through with his arms dangling by his sides, hands curled into fists, and a pissed-off expression on his face.

Jesus Christ. This is not how I wanted to spend the last part of my evening.

Tatum and I have had a great night just sitting around and talking. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this comfortable talking to anyone in a long time; same goes for her.

I’ll be chewing Leila’s ass out for her stupidity. It’s hard enough worrying about her partying all the time with her friends. There are fucking creeps out there everywhere, and they prey on the drunk, the weak, and a person can disappear without a trace in this fucked-up city. I should know. I lived on these streets, and she knows it.

About had a heart attack a few years ago when she decided to move into an apartment downtown. I know she parties and shit, but seeing her barely able to stand, her eyes rolling in the back of her head and body languid, turns my blood to ice. It doesn’t matter how old she is; I’ll always worry about her. This kind of shit, though, I’m better off not knowing.

“He isn’t capable of driving. None of them were thanks to him placing shot after shot in front of them. I took her friends home. Leila begged me to bring her here. I tried to call to give you a heads-up. Knew you would be pissed seeing her like this.” Brock looks at me; his abrupt and snarly tone isn’t directed at me. It’s our situation with Miles. He’s the one seeing it daily.

“My phone is inside,” I reply.

“I’m not drunk. Told you that when you demanded we leave,” Miles slurs. I can smell the alcohol oozing out of his pores from here. The guy needs help. We’ve been riding his ass for months now to get him into rehab. He won’t listen. Claims he doesn’t have a problem when everyone else around him knows he does. Hell, we thought we were going to have to cancel a concert in Dallas a few months back because he started to drink in the middle of the day. Good damn thing Brock caught his ass before he had the chance to drink an entire fifth of vodka.

“Miles, I’m going to throw up.” Leila lurches up, her face paling. She drops her head forward, hair covering her face, and starts to gag.

“Goddamn it!” I yell.

“Let me take care of her.” Tatum’s eyes go soft; the understanding in her voice has my chest growing tight. She’s being tossed into our chaotic world. I should do the right thing and leave her be. However, the selfish side of me, the part screaming in triumph over the strong chemistry we have, the way I’ve enjoyed myself by talking and listening while having dinner and a few beers with her, won't give her up. I deserve her, and all of that plus more has me shoving the stupid notion away.

“Thank you.” I help get Leila up and into the house, show Tatum where her bedroom is, and once I get her everything she needs, I head back outside only to find Miles gone and Brock pacing from one end of my pool to the other pulling on the ends of his hair.

“Explain, please. I’m sorry your life is put on hold, man. I truly am.” Brock doesn’t deserve this shit. Fucking sacrificing his own sanity to watch his friend slowly waste away.

“Don’t be. If he were thinking clearly, he’d do the same for me. He crashed in your spare room. Fuck, we have to do something; he’s getting worse every day. He didn’t lie when he said he only had a few beers. He just failed to tack on he had about fifteen shots along with them. I tried, Dean, tried like hell to get him to stay home. He’s a stubborn fuck. No way was I letting him drive when he said he wanted to go out. Knew I would have to babysit his ass the same way I’ve been doing for the past several years. We ran into Leila, and from the beginning, I told him you would draw the line when it comes to her. He wouldn’t listen, kept talking her into trying something new. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. Here he is, apologizing to me when it should be Miles. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

I’ve had my moments with every single one of my friends. They’ve witnessed me break down more times than I can count. Fuck, Roman had to fly all the way to Washington one afternoon just to get my ass out of a run-down motel because I was too fucked up in my own head to get myself home.

Hell, every once in a while, I still find myself waking up from a nightmare. My son’s charred body is flashing before my eyes. My uncle is standing above me with his belt. The nightmares will always be there. I’ve learned I have to move on. My kid wouldn’t want me defeated and lost in this world over something I couldn’t control. The same goes for Miles, and once he gets the help he needs, he’ll realize what happened to him was out of his control.

I can’t put a restriction on what Leila does any more than any of us can Miles. I untied those strings when she moved out. What I can and will do is make sure Miles knows he is not allowed to pull this stunt again.

“Thanks for looking out for her and bringing her here,” I say sincerely. The truth is, if she’s going to be sick, I’d much rather she be here.

“You’re welcome. We have to convince him to get help. I’ve known him since we were kids. The shit he went through would fuck anyone up. He needs to work through it with someone.” He isn’t telling me anything new. We’ve talked about this until we’re red with anger in the face. What happened to Miles would fuck anyone up. Lord knows it made me bleed for him when I found out. I know what it’s like to walk in his shoes. Losing someone you love in a violent way is a Goddamn never-ending nightmare, but this shit with him needs to end here.

The big problem is, I know better than anyone you can’t force someone to get help unless they want it. From where I stand, Miles doesn’t. It seriously might be time to call a meeting with everyone and lay it all on the line. We’d never kick him out; he knows it, but we have to do something before he kills himself or someone else.

“On a better note… Your woman. I thought she was gorgeous when you told me about her. She’s more than that, isn’t she? Her beauty runs bone deep after I saw what she just did. I’ll come and get him when he gets up.”

I nod in agreement as he quietly slips out of sight. Not sure if I’d call her my woman quite yet. However, I agree one hundred percent with him about her beauty.

I need a smoke. Crave one about as much as I want my lips all over Tatum’s body. I light up, sit down, and watch the smoke swirl in the air.

“I cleaned her up; she was out before her head hit the pillow. Those things aren’t good for you.”

I place my eyes on Tatum as she comes to sit beside me; they are glued to all her hair piled on top of her head. I’d give anything to see it hang loose, to run my fingers down those soft strands for some sort of comfort. I take one more drag, stub it out, and pop a piece of gum in my mouth.

“Thanks again; I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’m close to quitting, just needed a little something to calm me down.” I run my hand up her neck, my index finger landing on her pulse. I love seeing how it climbs quickly whenever I touch her. Might be one of my favorite things.

Damn, I want to touch every part of her enticing body. Have her under me, over me. Touching and bringing her more pleasure than she can muster up in her beautiful mind.

My own mind runs back and forth trying to decide how much to tell her. I won’t get into what happened to Miles. His story to tell. Might have told myself I was going to trust earlier but not enough with what really happened behind Landon’s death. I’ll share with her what I can in order to get some of this dead weight off me before I lose my shit. Maybe it will ease my mind from wanting to take a long swig from a bottle myself.

“You’re welcome. She’s young, Dean. She’s safe. Don’t be so hard on yourself or her.” Some strange feeling shoots through my veins hearing her say that. Leila has a lot of friends she turns to; it makes me a happy father to see Tatum cares about her. This weird sensation doesn’t sit well with the fear that will always remain when I worry so damn much about losing Leila. I think this is what pisses me off more than anything about Miles having a hand in getting her drunk.

“I can’t promise I won’t lecture her while she’s nursing her hangover. She might be a good person, but I’m her father. She’s all I have, Tatum. If anything were to happen to her, I wouldn’t come back from it. Miles, he has a drinking problem. We’re all certain he’s an alcoholic. Leila knows this. We’ve tried to make him see it. He’s not ready to admit it. Not many people know this, but he doesn’t get his driver’s license back for a few more months. After two DUI arrests, the asshole still drives. It’s a damn good thing he and Brock live together, or he’d probably be dead. I don’t know if he thinks his money will get him out of trouble if he gets caught or what. I care about him more than I care about the band, but he’s going to bring us all down if he doesn’t get his shit together. It fucking kills me to admit this. I don’t want him around her anymore when he’s drunk. He’s going to hurt himself or someone else before he admits anything, and as horrible as this sounds, I don’t want that person to be my child.”

I don’t want it to be anyone, but there’s going to come a time when Brock can’t watch him twenty-four-seven.

She doesn’t say a word as she shifts in the seat, slides behind me, and her arms immediately come around and circle my waist. Holy hell, I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me out of comfort. Never felt something feel this good, so right. This woman is going to unravel me in ways I’m not prepared for. I’ll welcome it with open arms. Already have, if I'm honest.

“We all carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. Everyone has issues and worries. We also have people we love. You need to stick by his side, Dean. Become one hell of a case of permanent flu in his life. Don’t give up on him. Don’t badger him either. I sense he and Brock are close. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with him drinking and driving with Brock around. There’s going to come a day when he’s going to crash and burn. If he does, he’s going to need you more than ever. Keep reminding him how much he means to you.”

“Christ, not only is she beautiful, she’s wise,” I mutter, giving her hands a squeeze. “We do tell him how much we care. He’s in too deep. There are times like tonight when I want to beat his ass and knock some sense into him. Even that won’t do any good.”

One day, I’ll explain everything to her, and she’ll understand how hard it is for me to stand down when every cell in my body screams at me to fix this.

All of this sets me back twenty steps. It reminds me of an argument I had with Landon when I first suspected he might be doing drugs. At first, I thought he was experiencing with weed. Never in a million years did I think he’d dive headfirst for the hard stuff. His personality was addictive from the start. I smoke, did my share of drugs, and drank on a regular basis before the kids were born. Kate, she did it all. Didn’t have the strength to quit. Didn’t know what the fuck she was doing either if she sat around and thought it was okay to do drugs with her own kid.

Pulling my gum out, I slip out of her grip, pick up my cigarette butt, and toss them both into the garbage. Tatum’s eyes go wide when I flip her onto her back and respond to my mouth’s need to taste her. I’m over worrying about something I can’t deal with until tomorrow.

She tastes better than I remember, and it’s only been a couple of days.

This night started out perfectly. Dinner was good, the conversation better, and when she pulled out those strawberries, took her first bite, and the juices dripped down her chin, my cock twitched violently and my tongue wept in desperation to lick her.

“You taste like strawberries.” Sweet and sinful. A combination I can’t wait to devour. I twist my tongue around hers in a heated kiss that raises my temperature as well as my dick. While I fill this kiss with the craving we both deserve to quench, Tatum gives it right back. Her hands slide down to grip my ass, and the chemistry intensifies.

It increases the harder she squeezes and the more she moves underneath me. Her breathing picks up, her teeth graze my tongue, and the small space between us turns into a whole new territory.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and this woman has the power to keep me burning.

My fingers draw up her neck. I yank out whatever clip she put in earlier to hold up her hair, and I nibble and bite all the way up and down the heated flesh on her neck. My lips are drawing me in a direction I know I shouldn’t go. I have no restraint left to stop myself.

Her scent lingers around me, blurring my senses. So Goddamn heavenly and sinful my mouth waters. I coax and prod, needing more. My lips tug and bite all over her, my mouth growing in anticipation to strip her bare. Her breathing turns ragged when I sweep my tongue into her mouth for another taste.

The warmth and comfort with the way she took charge of Leila earlier closes the deal with this woman. She is everything I’ve wanted and never knew I needed. I can’t wait to be buried inside her.

Her legs spread a little further, allowing me to press my hardened cock right where he wants to be. I’m aching in a way I never knew existed. I wish for the day Tatum and I are close enough to each other that touches and kisses like this can take away our pain. Like maybe we can become lost in each other enough that the shit happening in the outside world fades away.

My mouth dips to the cleavage of creamy-white flesh between her tits. A single taste of her body warms every inch of me. My cock is harder than it’s been in a long time. Fuck, how badly I want to get lost in the smooth heat of her body. I want to watch her unravel the same way she is making me.

“Dean, if you don’t touch me, I’m going to scream.” Her voice holds desperation I’m all too eager to please.

I catch hold of her arms, lift them over her head, and rid her of her shirt.

My dick jumps when I straddle her and all this tempting sin is laid out before me. I’ll sin with her all night and enjoy every minute of it.

She lets out a throaty moan, stretches like a cat, and fuck it all to hell if that gesture of hers doesn’t route a desire through my veins and send visions of having her tied up while I fuck her pussy wildly with my tongue.

I lean down until I’m breathing in her air: one hand goes to her hair, the other palms one of her breasts enhanced by a scandalous see-through white lace bra. My heart drums wildly when those devious eyes latch on to mine, so wide and full of passion.

“Fucking beautiful,” I whisper before I bow down to nip at the hardened peak, drawing her rosy nipple between my teeth and sucking it into my mouth.

My finger feathers across the flesh on her stomach. It’s soft and silky. Fuck, I want her so much. It makes no sense.

Removing my mouth before I get carried too far under her spell, I enclose her face with both hands, place my forehead on hers, and capture her stunning eyes. They fall to my lips, then shoot right back up to mine. The look of untainted affection and admiration she gives me tosses me up.

“Think you’ve ruined me already, Tatum Fields.”