Deep (Stage Dive 4)

“God, that’s so nice,” I happy-sighed, sinking further into the tub.

He made a gruff noise. It could have almost been construed as the word good.

“Is your hand all right?” I asked eventually.

He looked up at me from beneath dark brows, lips shut. His magic fingers paused for a moment, then kept right on kneading. “I might have put a hole or two in the wall after Jim left.”

“Oh.”

“He was right. You’ve been dealing with this on your own from the start and all I’ve done is throw money at the problem, hoping it would go away.” He moved down to rubbing at my heel, taking care with the swollen ankle. “I didn’t want to know, Liz. That’s why I kept my distance. I just wanted to go on like normal, pretend none of it was happening.”

“Me too. But my body keeps messing things up for me.” I laughed, despite the topic being distinctly unfunny. “We’re not that different, Ben. This situation has thrown us both for a loop, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“Don’t make excuses for me,” he grumped.

“All right, you’re an asshole and you let me down. Again. Feel better?”

The smile was much wider this time. “Thought we weren’t swearing.”

“Oops.” It was amazing what a foot rub did for my mood. Right then, I pretty much loved the whole world. Real anger lay beyond my reach. He grasped my other foot, again rolling up my jeans, and tossed aside the sandal. I did not fight him—no sir, no way.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said.

“Shoot.”

“Why didn’t you ever want children?”

“Because this is me, Liz. What you see is what you get. I like things calm, easy. But you and me, we’ve never been easy. Minute I saw you, it’s been complicated. First with Mal, and you being a little younger, more serious, and now with the pregnancy.” He shook his head. “Some women don’t give a shit if I come and go. It’s all good. But with you and the baby, you need more from me than that. And you deserve more.”

“We’re messing with your lifestyle.”

He looked up at me from beneath drawn brows. “It’s more than that. Shit. Never tried to explain this to someone before. When you were a kid, did you ever have some game you played that just rocked your world? And you’d wake up in the morning and realize today was the day you got to do nothing but play that game all day, and it was like life could never get better? That’s what my life is like. Every day I get to get up and play music, I get to create something.”

I nodded sadly, finally understanding. Ben was a man living his dream. As if anyone could compete with that. Maybe he’d liked the idea of me. Reality was, however, there’d never been room for me in his life.

“When the guys are busy, I can hop on a plane and go mix things up with another band,” he continued. “Fill in or be a guest on their album. Even jamming with strangers in some shitty little bar where no one knows my name. That’s my life, every day. I get to make something new, learn something. And it’s fucking amazing. There’s nothing like it.”

“Sounds great.”

“It is,” he said. “And that’s why I never thought about kids. Even a girlfriend seemed too much of a distraction. Don’t get me wrong, I like women. But it was always easier to find someone for the night than to commit to something that stops me from being who I am, doing what I love.”

I nodded. What was there to say? To go into a relationship expecting the other person to change was stupid. Ben and I had been over before we began, I just hadn’t known it, understood, until now. No doubt he liked me just fine, but not enough.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to be there for you and our kid. You said we could be friends,” he said. “That offer still available?”

Friends was the right thing to do. I pushed aside my disappointment and put a smile on my face. “Absolutely.”

“I’d like that.”

It was me and Bean, and Bean and me. Come what may, I’d have my baby girl’s back. Her daddy could do what he would. And the truth was, if he kept massaging my feet this way, I’d be his best damn friend, despite the break in my heart.

He kept his face down, his concentration on the task complete. Generally my feet were not that fascinating. Maybe he did have a foot fetish after all. Fingers drew soothing circles over my crappy ankle before digging in once more to the arch of my foot. Total and complete bliss. I could pretty much feel my crazy baby hormones rolling over and offering up their soft underbelly to him, preening and calling him Daddy, the dirty things. What this man’s hands could do to me. Every part of me felt floaty and wonderful. Shivery good even.

Wait up. Crap, I was seriously turned on.

A wounded heart was apparently no competition for an overeager vagina. The urge for sperm made no sense. I already had a baby on board. My tarty, attention-seeking nipples stood out loud and proud beneath my top, just begging for his lips. The situation between my legs wasn’t any better. Since when had my feet become such hard-core, triple X–rated erogenous zones? His able hands made sweet pornographic love to my toes, and my muscles turned to jelly. My legs just fell open in invitation. Beyond my control, I swear. It all just felt so impossibly damn good.

Holy god damn hell. No one had warned me pregnancy could send you into heat.

Despite the ecstasy, I couldn’t help but notice there was only like three … four inches between the pad of my foot and the bulge behind the fly of his jeans. It wouldn’t take much to touch. Why, little more than a flex would be more than sufficient. I could just brush my toes against the poor man’s crotch and then gasp, pretending it was all some silly (wonderful) accident. Oops, clumsy me, fondling the innocent, unsuspecting man’s genitals with my foot. How embarrassing—though really it could happen to anyone.

Not.

And really this is partly why, in my experience, friends don’t rub friends’ feet unless there’s more going on. I got easily enough confused about the man, no need to make it worse.

A small moan slipped my lips, echoing in the tiled room.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You made a noise.”

“No, I didn’t.”

A little line appeared above his nose. “Okay.”

“That’s great,” I said, drawing my now slutty limbs back to the safe side of the tub. “Thanks. Very kind of you. I think we’ll make great friends.”