Rock Bottom

“This right here,” he rasped out with one long thrust, “this is what I fucking live for. So good, Danika, so fucking good.”



I was embarrassed after. We’d made a scene and then a racket. I blushed even as we cleaned up. I didn’t want to show my face after that, but there was no emergency exit out of the bathroom, so we didn’t have much choice.



Tristan was grinning like a fool when he saw my pink cheeks. “If anyone harasses you about it, I’ll kick their ass, okay?”



I rolled my eyes. “I hope you’re joking.”



It was hours before we got out of there, and I could have sworn I was blushing the whole time.



Tristan lay on his back, hands folded behind his head. We were back in his apartment, in his bed, and I was cupping him in my hand, laying half on top of him to watch his face.



His eyes were hooded, his tone unreadable. “Go ahead, Danika, make it all better.”



“What does that mean?”



“It means that, aside from you, my life is shit. So please, if you love me, do what you do, and make me forget that for a while.”



He broke my heart when he said things like that.



I kissed his chest, his hands, his abs, soft, loving kisses. If I could have healed him with my devotion, he would stop hurting, and I tried to show him that with every tender touch.



My touch was just as soft as I gripped his hard length, and took him into my mouth. His touch was not soft at all as he gripped my hair and growled for me to suck harder.



Normally, in fact, always that I could remember, he would have reciprocated, but he didn’t that night. Instead, the taste of him lingering in my mouth, he fell asleep, still cupped in my hands.



I lay awake for a long time, stroking his hair, watching him sleep, like a mama bear with a cub, knowing he was slipping away, knowing he was on the wrong path, a path that was bad for him and agonizing over what I could do to help him.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN



DANIKA



The woman caught my eye as the waiter led us to our seats. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining down and an ocean breeze that made it pleasant rather than hot. The California coast was a marked and pleasant change from Vegas.



She was an attractive woman, with dark hair and an engaging smile, but that wasn’t why I couldn’t seem to look away. She was pregnant, her hand stroking over her belly lovingly as she laughed over something with her girlfriend. I’d always thought pregnant women were adorable, and, more and more, I got an ache in my chest just seeing a woman heavy with child.



Tristan noticed my distraction before I’d even had time to unfold my napkin into my lap. He caught my hand across the small table to get my attention, giving me a questioning smile. He wasn’t drunk or strung out today. In fact, he looked healthy and sober, smiling and tan.



“Penny for your thoughts,” he teased.



My mouth twisted ruefully. “Not worth it. You’ll just make fun of me.”



He squeezed my hand. “I will not. I promise. Now tell me what has you so distracted from me on our romantic getaway.”



I nodded my head subtly toward the woman across the courtyard.



He followed my motion, but just looked more confused.



“I was just thinking that a happy pregnant woman has it all. What could be better than that? Having a life growing inside of you, knowing that you’ll have this little soul to love for the rest of your days.”



His smile turned so soft on me. Melt your insides soft. “You want a baby, sweetheart?”



I frowned at him. “Don’t joke about things like that. It’s cruel.”



“I wasn’t joking. The second you tell me you want a baby, I’ll get to work on it. I thought you’d want to wait a few years, maybe finish college, but I’m more than fine with starting a family now. Whaddya say?”



My heart had started trying to pound its way out of my chest at his first sentence. I sat in stunned silence for a good five minutes while I processed his words.



“I have to say, dead silence was not the reaction I was hoping for.”



I chewed on my lip, still silent, just studying his face like it held all of the answers. Finally, when I did speak, my voice was less than steady. “I still can’t tell if you’re joking.”



He leaned forward, no hint of a smile on his face. “It’s not a joke. That’s what I want, what I’ve wanted from the moment that I realized I was in love with you.”



“Isn’t that a little backwards? Aren’t there a few steps we’ve missed before we start talking about babies?”



My hands moved in slow motion to cover my mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little white box that I told myself couldn’t be what I thought it was.



His head was bent, and his dimples popped up at me as he shot me a rather pained grin. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. If you cry, I’ll lose my shit. If you really love me, you won’t make me embarrass myself in front of strangers.”



A little whimper escaped me, my vision getting a touch fuzzy as the world shifted into dream territory.



“You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make me lose it in front of this crowd of innocent bystanders.”



“Tristan,” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. “Is that…?” My voice cracked on the question.



His laugh was a gentle rumble that made me want to hit him and kiss him and sob like a baby all at the same time.



“What is that?” I asked, still not looking at him.



He tried to tug my hands away from my face, but I didn’t budge. “Danika…look and see.”



I shook my head, crying as quietly as I could, which wasn’t quiet at all.



He sighed, but his voice was thick with tears when he spoke. “Marry me.”



I sobbed harder, thinking that this couldn’t be real. I was dreaming, except that in a dream, I’d have been able to stop crying like a lunatic and say yes.



“Shouldn’t you be on your knee or something?” I sniveled.



“Goddammit, you’re crying like baby and still you manage to sass me,” he said wryly.



But he was moving, kneeling down in front of me, his hand going to my thigh to rub soothingly.



“Marry me,” he said again.



I threw myself into his arms, burrowing my face in his neck as I bawled my heart out.



“Aw, sweetheart,” he soothed, running a hand over my hair, making little sympathetic noises in his throat.



I kept sobbing, great, loud, gasping waves of them, and he just held and soothed me. In that moment, I’d have sworn there was not a more perfect man on earth.



“Is that a yes?” he finally asked.



“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I cried, still not looking at him, still carrying on like a crazy woman. Gently, almost sneakily, he slipped a ring I’d never even set eyes on onto my finger.



Finally, after I’d taken long enough to calm down and look at him, saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, the gentle smile on his face, I went and lost it again.



“We shouldn’t have done that in public,” I told him later, when we were finally alone in our borrowed beach house. “I was a mess. That was a horrible idea.”



I couldn’t stop smiling, studying the shiny rock on my finger like it held the secrets of the universe.



We were sitting side by side on a large beach settee, watching the sun set on the ocean. I couldn’t remember a more perfect day.



“Well, I know that now. I had this strange notion in my head that you’d like a romantic gesture in public, and…I stand corrected.”



“It’s a beautiful ring.” It was a princess cut, surrounded by baguettes on a white gold band. I didn’t know a thing about diamonds, but it looked big to me, and it sparkled brilliantly.



“I’ve been saving up. I wanted it to be perfect.”



“This is insane. You know that, right? What are we going to tell people.” I was thinking of only a few people in particular when I said that.



“Bev won’t be too happy about this,” he observed, basically reading my mind. “She’ll say you’re way too young.”



“Yes, she will. She doesn’t think anyone should get married before thirty. She says that all the time. I know this sounds weird, but can we not tell her? Just for a little while. I want to show her that this is not a rash decision, and the only thing that will prove that to her is time.”



“Whatever you need to do, sweetheart. As long as I’ve got my ring on your finger, and you have my name.”



That sounded so divine I could hardly stand it.



“Do you mind if I wear it on a chain around my neck sometimes? Just for now.”



“Not at all, but you have to do something for me. Don’t make me wait. Let’s get married as soon as we get back to Vegas.”



“Danika Vega,” I said dreamily, practically floating on my own sense of contentment. What else could I ever want, if I had Tristan forever? I couldn’t come up with one thing.



“Is that a yes?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.



“I already said yes.”



“I mean yes to getting married the second we get back into town.”



I had to turn my head and look up, and up, to meet his gaze. “If that’s what you want, then yes. What’s the hurry though?”



His mouth curved. “This is old-fashioned, especially considering that I don’t even know my own dad, but I want to get married before we get you pregnant. I want to do it in the right order, yanno?”



I wanted to pinch myself. I honestly thought I might be dreaming. “You meant it about wanting a baby now? You really want that?”



He squeezed my hand, looking earnest. “So bad, sweetheart. Is it what you want?”



It was all positively insane, but I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.” Career, school, dancing. Everything would work itself out, in my deliriously dreamy mind. Bev managed to balance it all. I was a little young, but so what, why couldn’t I? I was willing to work around the clock to have it all, with Tristan.



“I’ll get off the pill,” I heard myself saying, as though it wasn’t even me talking.



He smiled like I’d just made his fondest wish come true. “Perfect. We can start trying immediately. No harm in getting some practice rounds in.”



“I’d say we’ve had plenty of practice.”



“Ah, true, but never enough, wouldn’t you say?”



“I’ll defer to your superior judgement on the subject.”



“Well,” he began wryly. “At least I get to be right about something.”



We enjoyed our two-day getaway to the fullest, sleeping in, walking on the beach, and spending plenty of time in bed. We had a baby to make, after all. I still couldn’t believe it.



We were wed at the courthouse just days after we got back into town.



I wore a sleeveless little yellow sundress with white flowers, and Tristan wore a white polo shirt and khakis. It was simple, but it was perfect.



I cried like a baby through the entire thing.



Tristan’s eyes were shinning and bright, his smile radiant.



I remember that I had no reservations, not one single doubt that what we were doing was right.