35. Tatum
35
TATUM
“ I still can’t believe you dragged me along for your date,” Rory grumbles. “Actually, scratch that. I can’t believe I let you drag me along for your date. What was I thinking?”
“That you love me?” I offer. “Besides, it’s a good thing you’re here. This way, the night will stay relatively…safe.”
“Safe,” she repeats. Her brow lifts in a perfect arch as we park outside Paxton’s perfect house.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Safe.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, clearly unconvinced. “Whatever you say, Tater Tot. Lead the way.”
As I push the passenger door open, a warm breeze carries the scent of the ocean with it. I pause, breathing it in.
Safe.
I’m grateful Rory didn’t push me on it. Make me question my sanity for being here when it’s clear Paxton’s holding it captive. Yup. He probably has a jar with a label on it and everything. Tatum’s Sanity. It’s tucked right between Tatum’s Curiosity and Tatum’s Libido, because he sure as hell owns those, too, after all our steamy encounters over the years.
Honestly, it isn’t even fair at this point. How he’s managed to consume so much of my time, my thoughts, my everything since the moment we first met. It doesn’t make this less scary, though. If anything, it makes me more anxious.
The last time I was at Paxton’s, I woke up in his bed with my makeup a mess and the taste of vomit in my mouth. Yeah, not so great. My fight or flight instinct rears its ugly head at the memory, and Rory grabs onto my arm, reading me way too easily.
“Come on, scaredy cat. I’m sure Pax doesn’t bite,” she says. I open my mouth to argue, but she cuts me off. “Nope. I don’t wanna know.” Once we reach Paxton’s porch, Rory lifts her free hand to knock when the front door opens, revealing Dodger.
“Hey, Squeaks.” His attention shifts to me. “Tatum.”
“Hi?” I reply.
What’s he doing here?
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to ruin your fun,” he jokes. “I actually only stopped by to say hi to some friends, but I’m about to head out. Perfect timing, though. They’re about to start playing.”
“They?”
“You’ll see,” he replies. “And before you yell at Pax for inviting anyone else, it wasn’t his idea. It’s just the way things worked out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some nephews to strangle.” He gives us a mock salute, slips out the door, and jogs down the short set of stairs, reaching a parked motorcycle.
Funny. I thought it was Pax’s.
“Well, on that note.” Rory tilts her head toward the still open doorway to Paxton’s home. “Should we…walk in?”
With a shrug, I tug Rory with me as we make our way inside. The place is cleaner than the last time I was here. Like, a lot cleaner. And since I’m his cleaning lady, I can’t decide if I’m offended or impressed that he found someone on such short notice. Am I finally out of a job? That kind of sucks. But also, the state of this house after being jam-packed with a shit-ton of drunk people was disgusting, and I’m kind of glad I didn’t have to deal with it.
As we make our way toward the back of the home and down the stairs leading to the walkout basement, I notice a soft melody in the distance.
“What is that?” I whisper.
Rory’s shoulders lift, and we follow the sound past the theater room to the large glass doors.
They’re left open, creating a large, open space from the hardwood floors to the open beach. The song is louder now. It’s an acoustic version of one of my favorite songs.
“Come on,” Rory urges, her curiosity matching my own.
My hair blows in the gentle sea breeze as we step over the threshold onto the back patio. The jacuzzi is open but empty, its steam swirling in the air. We move around it, the familiar melody spurring us on.
Seriously, where is everyone?
Lanterns hang on black poles, creating a path for us to follow. Reaching down, Rory takes her shoes off, so I do the same, letting the warm sand slip between my toes. When the bonfire comes into view, my forehead wrinkles as I stand on my tiptoes, trying to catch a better glimpse of the shadows surrounding it.
The fire casts a glow on Paxton sitting to one side with a guitar in his lap. Next to him is a man with a small drum, and on his opposite side is?—
“No freaking way,” Rory mutters under her breath. Turning to me, she adds, “Did you know about this?”
“How would I have known?”
“I don’t know? But this?” She smiles. “Damn, Tate. Pax wants you bad.” She tugs my arm again, and I force my legs to move as Cooper, the lead singer of Doomsday, begins the chorus of one of their biggest hits.
It’s…insane. And over the top. And probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m not sure whether to sneak around the side to listen from afar so I don’t interrupt the coolest thing I’ve experienced or traipse right up to the small group of spectators and pop a squat right next to the freaking singer of Doomsday.
Like, holy shit, Batman.
“So, are we going or what?” Rory whispers.
I can feel her looking at me, but I can’t stop staring at Paxton playing the guitar. The easy way he holds it. The way his mouth moves as he joins in on the chorus. It’s sexy as hell. He’s sexy as hell. As if he can feel my gaze, his attention cuts across the beach, and his mouth lifts into the most seductive smile I’ve ever seen. I’m too stunned to speak. Or move. Or do anything, really. I haven’t seen Pax in his element since my twenty-first birthday. And maybe it’s because I didn’t know him back then, or maybe he’s only gotten more attractive with age, or maybe he’s simply a better guitarist than he was before, but I don’t even need to know the reason behind it. All I know is I’ve never been nervous around a guy. Never felt giddy and swoony and speechless, and a little nauseated, if I’m being totally honest. But right now? Right now, I do. I really, really do.
Still holding my gaze, he leans a little closer to the drummer, says something to him, then sets his guitar down before pushing to his feet. Without missing a beat, the rest of the band keeps playing. Cooper’s voice is like a freaking angel as he continues singing the song while Pax jogs toward us.
“You made it,” he says.
“We did,” Rory returns. “And also, bravo, Paxton.” She motions toward the bonfire, then gives him a slow clap. “Seriously.”
He smiles at my best friend. “They were supposed to be at the party the other night but got held up. Figured a little show on the beach by the fire was a solid Plan B.” Squeezing the back of his neck, he turns his attention on me. “What do you think?”
My heart thrums faster and faster as I take him in, unsure what to say.
And it’s funny. Seeing how careful he’s acting. It’s as if he knows exactly how easily I could be scared away if he doesn’t play his cards right.
Joke’s on him.
After a surprise like this, he’s holding a royal flush. The question is, does he know it?
“Well, I think you hit it out of the park,” Rory announces. “Shall we?”
With a slow nod, Paxton steps aside and places his hand on the small of my back. I swear it scalds me to the bone, but I don’t pull away. I don’t want to pull away. The realization is staggering, and I fold my arms as he leads us to the bonfire.
Blankets lie scattered along the sand, along with a few beach chairs, a cooler full of drinks, and all the supplies needed for s’mores.
Other than the members of Doomsday, a few groupies and superfans are peppered throughout the circle, each of them singing along with Cooper. Noticing there’s only one spot beside Paxton, I move toward a blanket on the opposite side, reaching for Rory and tugging her with me so she doesn’t have to sit alone.
Pax doesn’t question it as he moves back to his empty spot, picking up his guitar and strumming right where he left off.
By the time the next song starts, I’m singing the lyrics, soaking up every single note. Seriously. Talk about a dream concert. The man I grew up idolizing is so close I can see his perfectly straight smile while he gives me the performance of a lifetime. Song after song, the band plays until my vocal chords ache. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. When the final notes ring out across the sand, cheering ensues, and Cooper turns to Pax.
“You wanna take the next one?”
Paxton’s eyes meet mine across the fire before he raises a shoulder. “I guess I should probably represent IndieCent Vows, huh?” He hesitates. “Uh, let’s see…”
His sandy-blonde hair falls forward on his guitar as he begins plucking at the strings, and I’m not going to lie. It’s hot as hell. The way his straight white teeth dig into his bottom lip. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he leans forward slightly, his spine curving, as he plays the intro to a familiar song.
Oh, and did I mention the stubble along his jaw, or the natural curl of his lashes, or the veins along his forearms? Yeah, I’m a goner. A big, fat, wet-pantied goner. And then he opens his mouth, surprising the shit out of me.
Cooper might have the voice of a fucking angel, but Pax? Pax has the voice of a natural. It’s a little grittier. Less trained. More raw. It’s less raspy than Dodger’s, but just as unique. Tilting my head, I watch him, refusing to blink in case I miss a single second. A single note. A single word.
It takes me a second to place it, thanks to the slower, lulling rhythm. I think it’s in a different key, too, making the lighter theme of the song feel…sexier, almost. Forbidden, even.
Calls to Me by IndieCent Vows. It’s about a girl he can’t get out of his head. A girl who drives him insane. A girl who isn’t his, but one he can’t let go of, even though he’s tried.
Before tonight, it was one of my favorites. This version, though? It’s something else, entirely, and I’m so enthralled, I can hardly breathe.
Feeling Rory’s stare, I glance at her, confirming what I already knew. Yup. She’s watching me. When she knows she’s been caught, she squeezes my hand. It’s a silent promise. That she’s here. That she knows how conflicted I am, despite both of us knowing I have no reason to be. And it’s true. I have no reason to feel conflicted. No obligations to anyone.
So why do I feel…guilty? For falling for the man in front of me. Being interested in him. And not just his body, which is pretty much carved from stone. But his soul, too.
Yeah. I always knew Pax was dangerous. Always knew he could make me feel this way if I gave him the chance. I just didn’t know he’d manage to slip past my defenses even if I didn’t open the door.
By the time he finishes the song, I’m officially soaked and need a minute to regroup, because this? This isn’t safe. But it is tempting. More so than I’m willing to admit, and if I have any hope of surviving the rest of the night, I need to get my head on straight. And soon.
“I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be back in a second,” I whisper to Rory.
She gives me a thumbs up, then leans back on her hands as Doomsday takes over for another song.