Chapter 44

CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR

LAKE

54 bobas left until we both die … (the same day)

Tam pins me to the bed, sweaty and desperate above me. It’s the most exquisite form of torture, feeling him thrust against me, push my hips into the mattress, make my breasts sway with the motion, and yet he isn’t inside of me.

I’m so upset with myself for making him stop, but this is nice, too. There’s a bit of light from the living room area breaking through the curtained glass of the bedroom’s French doors. Tam is limned in it, highlighting the muscular stretch of his shoulders, the curve of his back. I can feel sweat on his skin when I pass my palms over his muscles.

He’s hard in all the places that I’m soft, and the noises he makes are private, tender, but possessive, too. I wish we had a couple of weeks to ourselves, holed up in some cabin in the woods. I want to spend forever getting to know him, to learn exactly what he likes, and how to please him. I can see that he’s just as interested in learning to please me, and I love it.

We’re in this together.

We’re in the curse together.

Tam groans, and his entire body tenses up. He bites my shoulder gently when he comes, thrusting into that stupid sweater when he should be thrusting into me. He lets his body go limp above mine, braced on his forearms, breathing heavily. We stay like that for several minutes before Tam sits up and fiddles around with the fabric, trying to keep the mess in one place.

“I didn’t want to get any on you in case …” he starts, setting the ruined sweatshirt on the nightstand. I wonder what he’s going to do with it? Isn’t that sweatshirt alone worth a tabloid headline? “What happens if you get pregnant?” he asks curiously, and I sit up onto my elbow suddenly.

My body is threatening mutiny. How could I have stopped him like that? Because it all feels good until it’s just too much, and I can’t take it anymore. How do I get past that roadblock? I want and need to get past that roadblock. With Tam. Tam can help me.

“You mean the curse?” I whisper, because it just feels like a whispering sort of moment. He’s basically asking me if we should get pregnant to break the curse. I can barely remember the English language. “No, no, getting pregnant doesn’t break it.”

“Okay,” he says, and I can hear the smile in that one word. I guess he’s a little bit older than me, almost twenty-seven. What if he wants kids soon? I’m not ready for that yet. We should probably talk about that. “Then I’m glad I didn’t finish on or in you.”

I groan and let my body collapse into the pillows.

Did we … was that sex? I suppose it was, but I want more.

“I should’ve told you that I started taking birth control as soon as I learned I was matched.” I swallow. “And you know, if we’re both virgins then …”

Tam is silent for several long moments, thinking that over.

“Good to know.”

Tam leans over and grabs the sweater, messing around with it, and then he moves to lie down next to me. He rests his head on a pillow, hooks one arm under my waist, and uses his other hand to touch me. My legs open wide as he rubs slick fingers on me, and I realize that he’s using some of his own seed as lube to touch me.

He slips two fingers inside of me and kisses me until I grab onto his wrist and force him to stop for a second time.

As we’re resting there together, we both end up falling asleep.

Two hours later, I’m cracking my eyes open to Tam’s naked body curled around mine from behind. I can see the clock on the nightstand from here. Eleven o’clock. Oh. Good. It’s not that late.

I turn in the circle of Tam’s arms, as slowly and quietly as I can, but then there he is, looking right at me.

“Are you hungry?” he whispers, and I nod slowly, hair making a shushing sound on the pillowcase. Tam’s smile is barely visible in the half-light, but it’s infectious. I can feel his joy in his bones, in the way he tucks me more tightly against his body, like he doesn’t want to let me go. “Should we order room service?”

I nod again, and he grudgingly untangles himself from me. Tam reaches for his sweatshirt to put it on and then hesitates with his fingers on the fabric.

“Oh. Guess I’m not wearing that.” He drops his hand and stands up, finding his sweatpants on the ground by fumbling around in the dark. I can see the vaguest hint of his shadow as he stands up and yanks them into place.

“Let me get the light,” I murmur, scooting over to the edge of the bed and reaching out for the lamp. I’m very careful to leave the sweatshirt undisturbed. Warm lamplight floods the room, and I blink the spots from my eyes, glancing over at Tam, shirtless and waiting.

His eyes meet mine.

I think about how shamelessly I rubbed my body against his stomach, into his hand. I also think about how I can’t come, and how he certainly has no problem with it. I exhale and tug the sheets over my legs and stomach, holding a handful of crumpled white fabric over my breasts.

Tam searches around the side tables until he finds a sign advertising room service. He retrieves his phone next, scans the QR code, and looks over the menu. When he passes it to me, so that I can see it, too, I notice the prices. The very, very expensive prices.

“Eight bucks for an iced tea?”

“Lakelynn, I have a lot of money,” Tam tells me softly, and I flush. “Just order whatever you want.”

“I’ll have an iced tea then,” I say, and he gives me a look, stealing his phone back and crouching beside the bed next to me. With his eyes on mine, Tam picks up the hotel phone and dials room service.

“That’s right,” he says in response to whatever the person on the other end asks. My stomach grumbles of its own accord, and my flush gets deeper and darker. Damn it. “We’ll take one of everything on the menu. One of everything.”

And then Tam hangs up, still crouched beside me with his elbows resting on his knees.

There’s a long silence there, and then he crinkles that cute face of his, a little crease between his eyebrows.

“Okay, damn, that’s too much food. We don’t want to waste all of that. Two cheeseburgers?” he asks, apparently forgetting about his diet. I nod enthusiastically, still at a bit of a loss for words. Tam calls room service back and apologizes profusely before making that small, little correction to our order. He adds two iced teas, and a pot of hot green tea with honey for dessert.

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to me.

We can both see the sweater from where we’re at.

His eyes shift back to mine.

Tam Eyre kissed me in Japantown with the cherry blossoms. Tam Eyre fucked my body into the mattress without actually fucking me at all. I am now in a relationship with Tam Eyre.

I drop my gaze to my left arm, and then turn it over so that I can see the mark on my wrist.

Still there.

I flip my arm back around, hoping that Tam didn’t notice me looking.

Too late.

“Don’t stress about that. Don’t even think about it. Lake, were you here with me just now?” I nod, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. Not yet. “You were here with me,” he repeats, low and soft. When he turns and pulls me toward him, I let him. Tam hauls me into his lap and cuddles me against him, bare chest to bare chest.

We sit like that together in silence until a knock sounds at the door.

“I’ll get it,” I offer, scrambling off his lap and picking up my sweater and pants as I go. I yank the items on, and then close the doors to the bedroom. Tam can’t be seen in here.

I answer the door, sign off on the receipt, and let the employee wheel the cart into the room. The guy leaves as quickly as he came, and I make sure to bolt and chain the door behind him.

When I turn around, Tam is standing shirtless beside the cart, lifting metal lids off the plates. He finds his burger and fries under one, vegetables under another. There’s lettuce, tomato, pickles, and avocado. Tam carefully removes the pickles, and then makes a lettuce wrap. He discards his bun entirely, and the only condiment he uses is mustard.

“Might’ve been nice to know you didn’t want me to use a condom before I fucked my sweater instead of you.”

I laugh at him, padding up to the cart in my bare feet and lifting the lid on my own burger. If I let it get awkward in here, it’ll get awkward. We’re both still aching for each other. I can feel it in every footstep, in every breath. My lips tingle when I think about the way he kisses, and my eyes keep dropping to Tam’s abs. He hasn’t showered since, so … He probably has my scent and my touch written all over his body.

“You have a hickey,” I tell him, wondering if that’s going to be a problem. Tam lifts a hand up, palm hovering over his neck. His lips twitch in a smile as he takes his after-sex snack over to the couch.

I do the same, but I keep everything the burger came with. Bun, pickles, veggies, all of it. I use mustard and ketchup, even a tiny dab of mayo.

“I have to get up early tomorrow. Dance practice. Meet and greet at the stadium.” The edge of his lip quirks up. “The concert. I’d almost forgotten about it.”

“Please stop,” I tease, but then his head comes up and I remember how seriously he took that in the bedroom. “Sorry, I won’t say that unless I mean it.”

Tam’s smile gets a little wider as he eats about half his burger before setting it aside. He does eat the rest of the lettuce and tomato, dips exactly two fries into his mustard, and then gives up the rest of it.

I don’t copy him this time. I’m starving. He just watches me, one arm slung across the back of the couch, iced tea in his right hand.

“Might’ve been nice to know you didn’t want me to use a condom before I fucked my sweater instead of you.”

Why did he have to say that? I pretend like I’m not fully aware that he’s staring at me, slowly swiping my fries through my custom-made fry sauce. Equal parts mustard, ketchup, and mayo. That’s where it’s at.

“What are you going to do with that sweater?” I’m the one who brings it up, when I can’t take the heavy silence between us for even a second longer.

“Take it home with me and burn it,” he says, and I can’t hold back my laughter. I almost choke on my fry, and I love how concerned Tam looks about it. He would definitely hop in and give me the Heimlich if needed. That’s reassuring. “After you told me that some of my fans want my used tissues, I’ve been a little paranoid. Not that I …” Tam trails off, taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I always flush it.”

“Thank you so very much for sharing that with me.”

“Hey, you’re the one that told me we’ll die if we don’t fall in love. You were honest from the get-go. That’s all I’m doing now.”

I smile, but I keep my attention on my plate. It’s easier that way. When I finish, I put my dishes back on the metal cart and then head in the direction of the bathroom. Tam reaches out and snags me by the wrist, tugging me backward so that I tumble wildly into his lap with a grunt.

“I want to wash my hands and brush my teeth,” I tell him, but he doesn’t release me just yet. He puts his face up near my hair and exhales gently, arms tightening around me. Relax, Lake, I command myself. Relax in international superstar Tam Eyre’s warm embrace.

That makes me chuckle a little, but I snuggle him right back. I put my arms around his neck and just hold onto him the way he’s holding onto me. Why does he have to smell so good? And not like any sort of cologne or manufactured scent, but like me and him, and us, and the stuff we did together. I nuzzle into his throat, and he sighs like he’s happy about it.

“I can’t believe I fucked a sweatshirt when I should’ve been fucking you.”

“I can’t believe I gave you a hickey when you have a show tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry: Maggie is a pretty good makeup artist, and she can take care of it so nobody else will know.”

That gives me pause.

“Maggie’s covered up your hickeys before?” I ask, and Tam laughs, loosening the hold of his arms just a little.

“No, what I meant was that she covered up the damage Joules left on my face. Nobody knows about that except for your family, Jacob, Daniel, and Maggie. Even my mom doesn’t know.” Tam helps me get to my feet and then trails behind me into the bathroom.

He takes the complimentary dental kit provided by the hotel, using that toothbrush and the mini toothpaste that goes with it. I use my own toothbrush—it’s black with pink flowers, and it reminds me of Joe’s redbud tree.

Tam uses the sink on my left while I take the one on the right side. We both look up and into the mirror, staring at each other’s reflections while we brush. I’m oddly attracted to the way Tam goes at his teeth, like it’s more than simple hygiene, but like he’s on a mission against plaque.

I hide a smile by turning my head, but then I hear him spitting in the sink and glance back.

Tam Eyre, spitting? Unheard of. This is probably a state secret, too.

He tries to cover his mouth with his hand, and I realize I’m not the only one who’s self-conscious about brushing my teeth in front of someone I like. He feels the same way.

“Floss?” Tam asks, passing over one of the sticks that came with the dental kit.

“I’m really bad about flossing,” I admit, and he smiles. I take the stick from his hand anyway. I doubt I’ll ever remember to floss more than once or twice a week, but I’m not climbing back into bed with Tam if there’s lettuce stuck in my teeth.

We floss together, still studying one another’s reflections in the mirror.

His hair looks extra pink in this light, and his chest is a work of art. Smooth and pale but for the welts from his spilled coffee. The strong column of his neck draws my attention, the bright splotch of a hickey the only imperfection.

“Do you get pimples?” I ask him suddenly, and he turns a slow, horrified look over to me.

“I’m not allowed to get pimples,” he whispers back, and then he laughs. “If one dares show up, we go straight to the dermatologist for a shot of diluted cortisone. Not too strong though or it’ll break down collagen. I’m not allowed to lose any collagen.” Tam rinses his mouth out by cupping water into his palm, and I’m mesmerized by the sight. Absolutely mesmerized. Cold water on his full lips, dripping down his chin.

I turn back to my own expression in the mirror, and I wonder who the hell it is that’s staring back at me. I don’t look like Lakelynn Frost, the random boba-obsessed college student. I look like a woman who’s gotten exactly what she wanted and isn’t sure how to feel about it.

I’ve been chasing Tam for months, and here we are, brushing and flossing together. Here we are, kissing in Japantown and getting naked in bed and eating cheeseburgers in a suite at the Ritz-Carlton.

But the curse mark is still on my wrist.

It’s still there, and we don’t have a lot of time left.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Tam asks, sliding an arm around my waist from behind. I shiver, my body blooming like one of those pretty pink cherry blossoms. That’s what Tam does to me, makes me feel like a flower budding in spring.

“You can … you can get in bed,” I whisper to him, and he chuckles. He presses a lingering kiss against the side of my neck that infuses my blood with insidious heat, liquid and lazy and demanding. “I’ll be right there.”

Tam releases me and returns to the bedroom, leaving me to carefully shut the bathroom door so that I can collect myself. I use mouthwash, gargle it, check my teeth in the mirror. I use the bathroom and then jump in the shower to rinse my body. Get out and comb my hair.

“Okay, ready,” I murmur, but I guess I didn’t realize how long I was in there because when I come back, Tam is asleep on the bed, lips gently parted, a pillow between his legs and one in his arms. He’s holding those pillows the way he was holding me earlier.

A yawn slips out of me as I look at the clock and realize we don’t have much time left to sleep.

Alright then.

Fine.

I can wait to feel him inside of me.

I can wait.

Push and pull. Tug and yank.

I exhale and then climb onto the bed next to him. He looks so sweet when he’s sleeping, not like someone who said good girl to me, and meant it. I knew he was going to give me trouble, didn’t I? Devious, cunning, little shit.

I put one arm on either side of him, and then I kiss his forehead. I kiss his cheeks. I kiss his temple. I put my face up against the side of his neck. Tam stirs, but doesn’t wake, and I know that he needs sleep. If I’m going to be his girlfriend, I’m going to be strict about that. Going without sleep for long periods of time is the definition of misery. Hell, there’s a reason sleep deprivation is used to torture people.

I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp, not expecting Tam to toss his pillow aside and grab me instead.

“I told you I’d stay close,” he whispers in my ear, wrapping me up in his arms.