“Forty-five, fifty more years.”
“That long?”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“No. But it’s what I need. I’ve been angry for so long. The negativity drags me down. I just want to be happy, with you.”
I pulled my salon-smelling hair to one side and leisurely kissed him. “That’s a plan I can get behind.”
“You think maybe the Lucky Swimmers Club might take me in, given that I too have a donor dad?”
Tapping into my greatest fear, my extremities drained of blood. “If you’re one of my sperm brothers, I give up. I’m never dating again.”
“Relax.” He laughed. “My father’s donation location was in the back of a seedy van. Yours was in a nice, sterile facility… over and over and over again.”
I smacked him, giggling.
“I missed you,” I said, settling against his side. “Like really, really missed you. Is that weird?”
“It should be, right?” he replied, wrapping his arms around me. “But I feel the same.”
“Breeze said experiencing what we did together bonded us. I like that theory.”
“Me too.” With his sleepy expression, RJ leaned in. I parted my lips in invitation, expecting him to dive right in but he had other plans, ones I was ill-prepared to understand. His sensuous lips hovered around my lower lip, kissing and tugging on it lazily. I waited, anticipating his next move would be conquering my wanting mouth and kissing me like he’d just stepped into a boxing ring. But he didn’t. He stayed calm, and somehow that made the kiss all that much hotter. His touch. His breath. I could feel it everywhere in my body, and my heart rate quickened at just the anticipation. I could have stayed like that forever, locked in this slow-moving torture. To be sure, if we hadn’t been in his hospital room, that kiss would’ve ended very differently.
This was what I’d been after, the secret sauce I’d been searching for with the Jeremys—desire was the missing ingredient. And when he finally pulled back and our lips sensually disengaged, we lingered there in the overcharged space between us, gazing into each other’s eyes. It hit me then. I was no underdog. I had his heart in my hands—this man who’d grown up feeling unloved. He was trusting me to heal him in ways that only love could provide. And in return, he was offering me… everything.
25
Dani: Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tale
The first day back at school was a rough one. The kids were unusually emotional, breaking down over the slightest things, no doubt the residual effects of the disruption to their lives. None of my kids had lost family members or their homes, but trauma was a tricky thing and could not always be measured in tangible ways. For many of these little six- and seven-year-olds, it was the first time they’d ever really known fear or that the world was not as safe as had once been promised.
I’d debated whether to go back when school resumed a week and a half after the quake. I’d only been reunited with RJ for a few days and didn’t like the idea of being away from him for large chunks of time. Plus, I was feeling strange; prone to impromptu weeping spells and not sleeping well, the horrible fate of those who died in my building keeping me awake at night. But my kids needed their teacher and reassurance that life would get back to normal soon. And so, I went back for them.
Still, it was a struggle walking into the school—literally. RJ’s fame was suddenly in my backyard. Cameras snapped pictures of me as nervous parents shielded their kids from harm’s way. Honestly, I was surprised I wasn’t sent home by the principal the minute I arrived. But once we were all tucked behind the gates and school was in session, I could almost fool myself into thinking everything was back to normal and I was living my former life with one small caveat—my brand spankin’ new celebrity boyfriend.
Once I had all my students settled into their seats, I opened my lesson plan and began to teach.
“Miss Malone?”
Seriously? Was it potty time already? I looked up from my rudimentary lecture. “Yes, Raja?”
“Are you famous?”
My students scooted up in their seats, excitement evident in their wiggly bodies.
“Um… no, I’m not.”
“How come everyone is taking your picture and calling your name?”
“Well, I helped a man in the earthquake who is famous, so that’s why the news people want to ask me questions.”
There. Nice and neutral. I was proud of myself for keeping it both private and G-rated.
“Your boyfriend is RJ Contreras,” Nelle stated as fact.
“Well…”
“Do you live with him?” Benji asked.
What the heck? Why would he ask me that?
Flustered, I shook my head. “That’s not… no.”
“Do you kiss?” Maverick made kissing sounds, and some of the other boys joined in the fun.
“Maverick, that’s not appropriate. Don’t make me give you a warning on the first day back.”
“I heard you cut off his foot,” Escott blurted out from the back of the room. Other students nodded their heads.
“And you stole stuff from a store.”
I gulped back the horror. What were these parents letting their kids watch? My bottom lip began to quiver.
“Where…” I stuttered. “Where did you hear that?”
“On the playground.”
“Me too.”
Gripping the desk, I watched my knuckles blanch white. Why did this suddenly feel like the end of my career? How could I be a good influence on these impressionable children when I was the talk of the blacktop water fountain? I stumbled away from my desk.
“Miss Malone?”
I held my hand up to the class as I struggled for air. “I’ll be right back.” Going through the back passageway that connected all the first-grade classes, I opened the door to the adjacent room. Trina, my fellow first-grade teacher, must’ve seen the distress on my face and rushed to my side.
“Dani?”
“I can’t… someone needs to…”
I slid down the wall, dazed and gasping for breath. Burying my face in my hands, I sobbed right there on Mrs. Abbott’s classroom floor. The principal was called in, and I was lifted off the ground and escorted to the office, where I slowly but surely regained control. Embarrassment set in, followed by profuse apologies for a whole array of things. My unprofessionalism. Leaving my students unattended. Bringing drama to the school’s front entrance. Looting. Cutting a guy’s foot off. And when I finished purging my sins, I looked up to find Principal Gomez’s horrified face. Basically, I’d just outlined all the reasons she should absolutely fire me. Way to go, Dani.
But did I stop there? Nope. Instead, I started backtracking, blaming my behavior on lack of sleep and stress from my newfound infamy. Principal Gomez observed me with the neutral face that you just knew was masking her true feelings, which no doubt were, This chick is crazy.
And she was probably right. There was something off with me. I’d been feeling different ever since collapsing in front of Bruce after just escaping the garage. But because all my focus was on reconnecting with RJ, the symptoms had been masked. Now that we were back together, and my new, altered life was taking shape, I wasn’t sure if I was fully on board with the changes. Ten days ago, I’d been an ordinary girl living a routine life when suddenly the earth shook and—bam!—I was homeless, thingless, and dating a pop star.