No Tomorrow: Chapter 49

I’ve never been faced with so many decisions at once in my life. I’ve made lists of pros and cons. I’ve talked to Ditra until her eyes glazed over and rolled back in her head.

Blue and Reece have already put the wheels in motion to leave the band. That discussion took almost two months of fighting, negotiating, and debating with the other band members, their manager, and their record label for them to finally come to an agreement. They agreed they would finish out the few tour dates they had left for the year, and then No Tomorrow would dissolve. Blue and Reece would not be replaced. The guys, however, are open to working together again sometime in the future for a reunion.

I suppose it was a bittersweet decision for all of them. Freedom from No Tomorrow would open the door for new opportunities, but also would leave the door slightly ajar for them to still work together.

Blue agonized over his decision to leave the band. I’ve never seen him struggle like that before. When he decided to leave me years ago, I only saw and felt my own pain and suffering from his decision. I often wondered if what he did bothered him. Or did he just walk off without a care in the world, with an out-of-sight, out-of-mind attitude? But now I can see how much he really does care about the things that go on in his life, and how he affects others. He barely slept during the entire negotiation period. For hours he talked to me about how he worried the guys in the band would hate him. He worried that he was ruining their lives and killing their dreams. He was afraid the fans would turn on him. All very valid issues.

Several times I thought he was going to throw in the towel and stay with the band. Especially after witnessing all his mental anguish over what leaving the band would entail. The change in lifestyle and finances. The effect it would have on the others. Giving up the spotlight and walking away from the high of thousands of fans waiting in a crowd just to see and hear them—whether he ever wanted that or not. It’s a lot of change to take on, and years of work to walk away from.

But I’ve also seen the rare glimmer of hope and excitement in his eyes when he talks about the new life he wants to live. A quiet life as a family. He wants to write songs just for himself again—maybe produce an album of his own. I’m proud of him for wanting to chase his dreams and go back to the root of what he loves most about music. I admire the strength I see in him now and his unwillingness to make destructive choices as he used to in the past.

When he came to me with a smile and hug to tell me he’d made his final decision and would be letting the band go, I felt a mix of emotions. On one hand I was sad that he was letting go of a huge part of his life and success, but on the other hand I felt relief and happiness for our future together.

For the first time, we’re both on the same page and can plan a future together.

But now it’s my turn to make hard decisions.

Blue doesn’t want me to work anymore. He wants us to enjoy life together, maybe travel and take Lyric to see fun and beautiful places. We talked about trying for another baby in the future, when we both feel ready, and how amazing it would be for us both to be home to raise the baby together. The mere idea of seeing Blue with an infant in his arms, and witnessing his reaction to his baby’s first words and steps, makes me completely giddy.

Although my job can be stressful and not overly fulfilling, I’ve worked hard to climb the ladder at the office, so to speak. It’s taken me a long time to reach a salary where I’m not living paycheck to paycheck. Money won’t be an issue for us. His financial guy saved and invested his money for him, and he’ll receive sizeable royalties probably for the rest of his life that will keep us beyond comfortable. I’d much rather be spending my days with Blue and Lyric than sitting behind a desk. It’s hard to give up the independence I’ve worked so hard for, though. Giving up my job, my own income, and most likely my house, is a lot. Blue wants to support Lyric and me in every way possible, and that’ll be an entirely new way of life for us. I’ve always paid for everything myself. All the checks Blue has sent me over the years I immediately deposited in a savings account for Lyric. I still feel strange using the gold card he gave me months ago for anything and everything Lyric and I—and even the pets—need or want.

We also have to decide where we want to live. Here in New Hampshire? In Seattle? Someplace entirely new? I’ve lived in this town my entire life. My best friend lives right behind my house. That kind of comfort is going to be hard to give up.

Then there are wedding plans to figure out once Blue’s tour is over. Do I want a big fancy wedding? A destination wedding, maybe? Or something small and intimate?

My mind is boggled with all the option, questions, and decisions.

“Mom?”

I blink and stare at Lyric, who’s giggling at me.

“The green candies go in the front.”

I smile. “Oh. I see.”

Blue winks at me from the other side of the kitchen table. We’re building a gingerbread house—a huge one—completely from scratch. Blue and Lyric have been baking and gathering all the candies and other items for days. It’s our first family project and it’s had me silly with happiness. I’ve been slacking on my end of the project because I keep getting caught up in watching Blue and Lyric together. He’s so incredibly good with her. Sweet, nurturing, funny. I’ve never seen him look happier. He’s singing along with the Elvis Christmas album, and he looks hot as hell in a gray sweater that’s perfectly tight around his chest and shoulders, old worn jeans, and black fuzzy socks.

He leans across the table with a handful of candy canes in his hand and kisses me.

“What are you daydreaming about, beautiful?”

I beam at him as I make a candy walkway leading to the door of our gingerbread house. “You.”

“Mom!” Lyric teases. “Daydream about Blue later. We’re right in the middle of our house.”

Blue and I laugh at her. She loves to tease us about our public displays of affection and she pretends they bother her, but we both know that she actually thinks we’re cute. She’s at the cusp of starting to notice boys, so she notices anything romantic and lovey. Blue has set the bar high for any guy she might date when she’s older. Every Friday he brings each of us a bouquet of flowers, and once a month he surprises us with a random, but extremely thoughtful and unique gift. Not only does he make quality time for me, but also for Lyric. He spends hours talking to her, writing poetry with her, and playing guitar with her while she plays the harp. He even makes sure to spend time with Archie and Mickey by brushing them and playing with them. At least once a week the three of us take Mickey for a walk together.

“How are we going to eat this?” Lyric asks, standing back to admire the half-finished, three-story structure. We’re also decorating the inside so it looks more like an edible doll house than a gingerbread house. “It’s just too cool to eat. I want to save it.”

“Nah. It’ll get gross. I promise we’ll make one every year, okay?” Blue says. “There’re tons of different ones we can make.”

Excitement gleans in her eyes. We’ve never had a true Christmas tradition. I think Blue’s idea is perfect and something Lyric can enjoy with us as she gets older. Maybe even share with a younger sibling someday.

“This is the best Christmas of my life,” Blue murmurs into my neck.

“Mine too.” I turn my head and meet his lips for a soft, lingering kiss. It’s after midnight on Christmas Day and we’re snuggling on the couch at my house under a thick fleece blanket with a goofy reindeer picture on it. This is the first Christmas we’ve ever spent together and it’s been wonderful.

This morning we opened presents with Lyric, then Blue made us pancakes and waffles for breakfast, including a bone-shaped pancake for Mickey. Ditra and Billy joined us later to exchange gifts, and then we went to my parents’ house for dinner, at my mother’s insistence.

My mother has met Blue once before and admitted she liked him and thought he was beautiful and charming. Her words. I wasn’t thrilled with subjecting Blue to my father’s long-standing attitude on our first Christmas together, but Blue assured me he could handle my father acting like a jerk. Thankfully, my sisters and their husbands were super friendly over dinner. They fanned a little over Blue, which made me laugh, especially seeing my father’s facial expressions when it dawned on him that Blue actually is famous. My father didn’t talk much, but at least he wasn’t rude, so all in all it was a nice dinner.

Now we’re on the couch with the lights off, enjoying the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree in the corner and the fire flowing from the electric fireplace Blue installed last week. Blue gave me a special gift when we got home—a diamond tennis bracelet with a tiny red garnet ladybug charm. I told him I’m never going to take either of them—this one or the original he gave me years ago—off.

“This is what I’ve always wanted with you,” he whispers, moving the scoop neck of my sweater off my shoulder and planting kisses on the exposed skin. “Memories that don’t hurt.”

“I have lots of memories of you that don’t hurt.” I thread my fingers through his soft hair. “And we’re going to make lots more.”

“Can we start right now?”

He lifts me in his arms, carries me across the room, and gently sets me on the floor in front of the fireplace. I love the way he smiles when I pull him on top of me, and the way the fireplace makes him look like he’s radiating a halo.

He tugs off my sweater and reaches down to unbutton my jeans.

“What about Lyric?” I whisper. She’s been in bed for hours, but we never fool around right in the middle of the house.

He touches his fingertips to my lips. “Shh…she won’t wake up. We’ll be quiet.” With a crazy-sexy grin, he pulls my jeans and panties off. “At least I’ll be quiet because my mouth is gonna be busy….” Kneeling between my legs, he slowly slides his hand from my breast all the way down over my hip to my outer thigh. He kneads his fingers there and then bends my leg up. “Not sure if you can be quiet, Ladybug.” He kisses my inner thigh and sucks my flesh into his mouth. Teeth and metal send tingles through my limbs. “Especially with me licking your pussy.” He drags his tongue over my lips and I let out a little moan and dig my fingernails into his shoulders.

“You gotta try harder than that, baby.” His husky voice drips with raw sensuality and he descends on me, covering me with his warm mouth and slowly probing me with his tongue. He flicks the ball of his piercing over my clit, then plunges his tongue in deep, sucking my sensitive flesh between his lips and teeth. I spread myself open for him when he inches his hand up my thigh and slips one, then two fingers inside me. He works me into a frenzy with his mouth and hands and I writhe and wiggle beneath him, thrusting my hips toward his face. He tortures me—slowing and pulling back just when I’m almost over the edge, then mouth-fucking me back to that breathless, urgent place again. He drives me wild, tantalizing me with his tongue and hands, his hard body pressing against mine. I tangle my fingers in his long hair, imprisoning him so he can’t pull away. When he finally lets me come, I can’t stop from crying out with pleasure. He moves like lightning, capturing my mouth with his, kissing me so deeply that I can’t breathe as he pistons his fingers in me. I’m a quivering, powerless ragdoll beneath him as he coaxes my body into another orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you lose control,” he whispers against my lips as I struggle to catch my breath. “And you can’t be quiet for nothin’.”

I giggle and snuggle into his arms. “It’s impossible with you. You drive me wild.”

He pulls the blanket from the couch and over our bodies, then leans up on his elbow to look at me. His hair is disheveled around his face. His eyes dark and intense, his lips full and cherry red from being ridden.

And that smile on his face is the best gift I could ever receive.

I remember our first Christmas together. How he decorated the shed with a tiny tree. I remember how badly I wanted him to climb over the wall he always kept between us and come home with me for the holiday.

Now there are no walls, he’s home with me, and nothing could be more perfect.

“I don’t want to ever stop having nights like this.” He pulls me closer and wraps his leg over mine, locking us together. “You’re the one high I’m never gonna quit, Piper. I don’t care if we have five kids or we’re married for twenty years, I’m always going to want to get lost in you.”

“You can always get lost in me.” I kiss the middle of his chest. “I promise.”

As we lie in front of the flickering electric flames, I play with his hair—something he loves—and the words to his song, “Lost in You,” echoes through my mind: