40. What if I fall forever?
CHAPTER 40
What if I fall forever?
CALUM
The boys are on their way to Yorkrinth City. I stare at my phone, trying to process their call. The door to Mace’s room opens. Cathie’s head pokes in. I’m not sure how to tell her. The boys will stay at Caleb’s place. I’ll have to move or go there often to practise. They have done their part. I need to step up.
“Hey.” She steps in and shuts the door with her foot. Laughing, she waves. “Hey again.”
“Hey,” I reply. “Mace?”
“Asleep.”
We glance outside the window. It’s dark. It gets darker here faster than in NYC. I rub a hand over my eyes. A short check in trip has turned into a near-permanent stay. I don’t regret it.
Cathie covers the distance but keeps a foot of space between us. “Um, are you okay?”
“I am. You?”
She nods. “Bored.”
“Do you want us to do something?”
Her eyes scroll over my body. Her breath catches, and she forces her eyes away from me. We can snuggle naked if she wants, but it would be against our current relationship status. Don’t ask me about it because I have no name for it. I’m respecting her decision and need for time. She sinks to the floor and crosses her legs. I settle down in front of her, our knees touching.
“Want to sing?” she asks.
“Maybe. Do you?”
Cathie jumps to her feet. “Hold on.” She dashes out of the room and returns immediately with a guitar. Breathing heavily, she returns to her former position and places the instrument on my legs. “I convinced Jason to lend it to us for the night. We must treat it right. It’s his baby.”
The little hate for Jason in my heart fizzles out. I don’t hate him. But I don’t like that he was there for Cathie and Amelia at a period I couldn’t. The man would always have that over me, and it isn’t something I like being reminded of. I tuck the head of the guitar under my armpit. The only person I would ever allow to touch C is Cathie. Lucas and Sam are careful with my guitars. Cathie caresses the bottom of the guitar, and I smile at her when she’s not watching.
She has a soft spot for the man. “Do you like Jason?” I ask.
“Yeah. He’s cool.” Cathie pries the guitar from me and strikes a chord. It sounds rusty, but after a few tries, a familiar tune bounces off the wall. “He was teaching me how to play.”
“Do you think I should dye my hair black or brown?”
Cathie stops. Body hunched over the guitar, she frowns up at me. “What? No. Leave it.”
“Okay.”
The silence drags. Exhaustion knocks into me. I stare at her for a few minutes and lower my head to her lap. She welcomes me. Her fingers race through my hair, drowning the tiny voices of insecurity. Jason would never come close to me. We hold different spots in her life.
“I like you this way, Cal,” she whispers. She kisses my temple, and my heart flutters. I have always offered comfort, so this feels nice. “I like your hair as it is. I like your face. You don’t need to change anything about you for me. Do it for your sake. So, do you want to dye it?”
“No,” I breathe. I love my hair as it is. Mace also has the same colour.
“Good.” She resumes playing the guitar, and my head rubs against it. I should adjust to make this more comfortable, but I love this position. A few times, she hums. I relax fully, content to be here. “Cal? You cannot smoke around Mace, okay? It’s not good for him. Or you.”
Pretty blue eyes meet mine. I sit up. I thought I was being careful, more discreet.
There’s no use denying it, so I say, “I was trying to clear my head.”
If she’s referencing yesterday or today or two days ago, I can’t tell. I’ve smoked nearly every day since I got here. At first, it was to get through the day and cope with her aggressiveness.
Now I do it because I’m used to it.
“Did you smoke today?” she asks. Yes. If she didn’t see me smoke today, then when? She presses a fingertip to a chord, and it makes a soft sound. “What about yesterday? You’re not like addicted or something? That will be very bad, Calum.”
“Cal,” I correct. “No, I’m not addicted.”
“But you smoke almost every day.”
“Habits,” I murmur. We share a glance, and she hugs the guitar closer to her chest. I want a hug. “It’s not something I do all the time.” Her dark brow shoots up. Fine. I kind of do it all the time now. Each time, I’m thorough about brushing and taking mints before showing my face to her or Mace. Memories from the first time she saw me with a blunt unfolds in my mind. I shake it off. I had control then. I can regain it back. “I’ll stop it, okay? Promise.”
“Okay, Cal.”
Her touch surprises me. She grabs my hand and kisses the heel of my palm.
Butterflies erupt in my belly. I lean in like we are not already touching and let her own me. She places another kiss on my knuckles, then another in the middle of my palm. My smile reaches my eyes. I must look a sight with my shit-eating grin, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“I really, really missed you when you were gone,” Cathie admits. So did I, but this is her moment. I let her have it. Her hand reaches up to my cheek and drags down my jaw to caress the stubble. I didn’t keep a beard when we were together. “This makes you look less boyish.”
“You like?”
“Like? I love it. The truth is, I think I’ll love you either way. Beard or no beard, Cal.”
My heart slows, then picks up a faster rhythm. I don’t think Cathie realised what she said. But I already stored the memory. She loves me. “The boys will be in Yorkrinth soon,” I tell her.
“With your mum?”
Intense eyes stare back at me, waiting for my response. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“What do you want us to sing?” she asks, returning the guitar to me.
“Hands in my pocket?” I suggest.
We could take it back to where it all started and find ourselves again. Cathie swats the strands of hair sticking to her eyelashes. She sings first. I let her lead. My head bobs, and my fingers play the right chords. It’s different. Her voice is no longer as soft. It has taken on a gentle deepness like the lyrics are coming out of her soul, instead of only her heart. My cheeks ache from smiling too much. It should be a duet, but it feels too perfect a moment to be ruined by my voice. Her eyes flutter open. She sends me a warning, and I join in on the final chorus.
Our voices rise and fall. I hum the rest of the song and she finishes it.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
The first time we sang it, I was broke and happy. I can pay my bills now. Give her the best things she wants. I owe her the best life. And by God, she will get everything. She and Mace.
Silence settles over us. It’s so peaceful I don’t want it to end. But Mama Mace has to return to her room and my legs are hurting from maintaining this posture for too long. I stand first and offer her my hand to pull her up. Placing the guitar against the wall, I rock on my heels.
“Do you want to sleep in my room?” I ask.
Hesitation flickers in Cathie’s eyes. Her body sways like she’s fighting with her mind. I push down my nervousness and take a step closer. My finger curls under her jaw, tipping her head back enough to connect our eyes.
“Cal…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” I quickly add. “It will be like old times. Me and you.”
Cathie’s cheeks redden. I wiggle my brows, trying and failing to keep my mind in the right place. Old times involved sex, kisses, blow jobs and a lot of things I don’t mind recreating. From the look in her eyes, her mind must have strayed to the same dirty lake mine is. She slaps a hand over her mouth and staggers, bending under the weight of her knee jerk laughter.
“You know what I mean,” I whisper.
“Do I?” she teases.
Another invisible block between us tumbles, and I cup her beautiful face. She curls her arms around my waist. Maybe we don’t need to have a name for what we have. We can be Cal and Cathie, and that will be enough.
“Is that a yes?” At her confused pout, I add, “Will you sleep in the room tonight?”
Mama Mace steps back, and my arms drop to my sides. She walks backwards until she’s at the door. Without a word, she leaves the room. Minutes pass and a knock sounds on the door.
Cathie enters with her phone. Stopping in front of me, she directs me to the bed and sits. I sit beside her. I can’t resist her. She dumps her phone on my lap, and I squint at the screen until the images make sense. It’s a live feed from her room, but the camera is focused on Mace.
“Can I get this on my phone?” I ask.
“Yes. Tomorrow?”
“Sounds fine.”
I drop the phone on the nightstand. Cathie wrings her hands. I grab and flatten them on my chest. When she’s calmer, I tug on the hem of her dress. She helps me out of my shirt first, then removes her dress. I’m in only my briefs while she remains in her matching underwear. She hikes two fingers under the waistband of her panties, and I suck in a sharp breath. She shakes her head, her shy smile intact. I discard my briefs fast and help her unhook her bra.
Before she says a word and possibly ruins this, I kiss her on the lips. “I know. No sex.”
Cathie smiles against my lips. She owns my heart without knowing it. When the lights are all off, I spoon my superstar from behind. She wiggles. “I wrote a song,” she says in the dark.
My lips press to her temple. She drags my hand over her belly and laces our fingers.
“What about? When can I hear it?”
“Never?” she replies with a chuckle. “I don’t know, Cal. Only Amelia got to hear it.”
“Was it about her?”
“Yes.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to share it with any other person. You will write another.”
“Maybe. Maybe I’ll share this one.”
Her leg slides between mine. I hug her tighter from behind. “When you told Mace you would be there to catch him when he falls,” I say. She nods for me to continue. “I said I would also be there for him. It applies to you too, Superstar. I’ll always be there to catch you when you fall.”
“What if I fall forever?”
“Then we will fall together,” I reply.
“I don’t think Mace will like that.”
But there’s a smile in her voice. She twists so we are facing each other. I don’t see her face, but her breath warms mine. Her fingertips skitter across my jaw and cheek.
“Then we will just have to make sure we keep each other from falling,” I tell her.
“I like that.”
“And I like you, Cathie.”
“I more than like you, Cal. I love you.”
The world falls into perfect silence. My forehead touches hers. “Catherine Jenkins,” I breathe out. She sighs softly. She’s sleepy. I draw her into my arms. “Goodnight, Superstar.”