No Chance by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 30: BRETT

Fear still wraps around me in the morning when I wake and she’s cuddled into me, but at least I was more prepared for it this morning versus the blindside of last time.

Keeping my hands off her is proving difficult after that kiss, but I’m doing my best. I run for the shower where I’m able to have a private moment to relieve myself, but it does little to calm the raging need inside of me.

She’s still sleeping when I emerge and get dressed, and then I hear a little cry from the crib. I move quietly around the room so as not to wake Hannah. I want to give her the extra few minutes of sleep she needs after what’s been a harrowing few days...weeks...months...life for her. As I glance over at her still sleeping peacefully, I realize for the first time that I want to give her more than just sleep.

I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it’s definitely something.

I pick up the baby from the crib, careful to handle him the way I’ve seen her do. I carry him out to the living area and quietly close the door behind me, and then it’s just me and this little dude.

What, exactly, am I supposed to do with a nine-month-old?

I change his diaper first, and then I stare down at him. His sleepy eyes stare up at me. His face isn’t as flushed as it was last night, but I have no idea how to tell if a baby has a fever. He doesn’t seem extra hot anywhere, and he’s not super cranky, so I’ll take that as a win.

I look around for a few beats as I try to figure out what comes next. Usually she gives him Cheerios in the morning. I spot the little travel chair she straps him into, but it’s not actually on a chair.

I can’t hold a baby and strap him into a chair.

Do I set him down on the floor?

What if he crawls into the table headfirst?

Yeah, floor is a bad idea.

I strap him into his carrier, and he tilts his head and looks at me the same way she does when she’s trying to figure out my next move.

I can’t help my laugh.

I pick up the baby seat contraption and stare at it as I try to figure out how the hell it works. There’s little buckles pushed into the sides of it, so I pull those out and secure them around one of the chairs at the little table in our room.

And then I get the kid out of his carrier and move him over to the seat. I put a handful of Cheerios on his tray, and then two more handfuls because it doesn’t look like enough, and then I set to work on finding his bottle to give him some formula.

I rummage through the diaper bag she’s always carrying around and procure the bottle, and I’m in the middle of reading the directions on the back of the formula when the bedroom door flings open and a wide-eyed Hannah comes flying out. Her head whips around the room until her eyes land on Chance, and then a calmness seems to wash over her. “Oh!” she gasps, and her hand flies to her chest.

Her eyes find mine as she pants a little, and I can’t help but think how cute she looks. Her ponytail’s a mess from sleep with half her hair up and half sticking out wildly, and her shirt’s a little disheveled, and her glasses make her look intellectual despite the chaotic nature of the rest of her appearance.

“I woke up and he wasn’t in his crib,” she explains.

I flash her a grin. “I took care of it.”

“How’s he doing this morning?” She walks over toward him and leans down to pepper his cheek with kisses. She sets the back of her hand against his forehead. “I think the fever broke.” She glances up at me. “You gave him Cheerios? And figured out the Bumbo?”

“The Bumbo?” I repeat.

“The baby seat,” she clarifies.

“Oh,” I say, nodding. “Yeah. I figured it out.”

She regards me for a beat.

“I just wanted to give you a little extra sleep,” I say. “You looked so peaceful and I figured you could use the rest after last night.” I leave out the details about not knowing whether it was okay to put a kid on a hotel floor. I’ll learn.

She steps toward me slowly, and then she closes the gap. She sets a hand on my jaw, and I nearly find myself leaning into her touch. She reaches up on her tiptoes and presses a small kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and she starts to back away.

I grab onto her waist and pull her back into me, and I press a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re welcome.”

She’s a little dazed as I let her go. She finishes making the formula and brings it over to Chance, and I watch her as she interacts with him. She talks to him and asks him how he’s feeling, and I realize only now that I was totally silent as I worked with him. If I’m following her lead, it appears that I’m supposed to talk to the kid, ask questions, and basically narrate everything I do.

We order up some breakfast, and afterward I head over to Tommy’s room to check in.

“How’s the kid?” he asks, wrestling his way into a shirt as he kicks the door shut behind me. I walk into his suite. It looks just like mine minus the kid and the girl.

“Much better.” I flop down onto an easy chair by the window. “Just an ear infection.”

He flops down onto the couch. “You wanna find some pussy after the show tonight?” His tone is cautious, and I realize I haven’t been very much fun on this tour so far.

Tonight’s only our sixth performance out of thirty-seven on this tour—not counting the appearances and smaller private gigs we’ve got lined up, but Tommy and I both set our expectations high for a whole lot of WAC—weed, alcohol, and cunts. I had a little of that shit right out of the gate, but I haven’t indulged in much of anything since Hannah and Chance boarded the bus.

“Nah,” I say.

He nods knowingly. “You getting some from your little kitten?”

My brows draw down as I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. “My little kitten?”

“Yeah. You know, the girl you’re rescuing.”

I press my lips together. “I’m not rescuing her. I’m just trying to do the right thing in a difficult situation. And no, not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not fucking.”

He sits up and raises both brows. “You’re not? But you’re sharing a bed!”

“Yeah, with a kid three feet away. And it’s not just that. It’s...complicated.”

He twists his mouth. “Mind if I fuck her, then?”

My hackles rise to join the hairs on the back of my neck. “Yeah, I mind,” I say, the volume of my voice rising. “Stay the hell away from her.”

He holds up both hands innocently. “I just figured if you’re not plowing her, one of us should be.”

“She deserves better than your sick ass,” I mutter.

He shrugs. He’s not offended by that—instead, he knows I’m probably right. Most women do deserve better than the way we’ve always treated them, and something about one night with one random chick sits a little funny with me now, and I’m not sure why.

Maybe it’s because I have a kid. What if it was a girl? How would I feel about some guy treating my daughter the way I’ve treated women my entire adult life?

I wouldn’t like it. I’d tear the guy’s limbs off.

It’s a new perspective that I’m not sure I like, but it’s in my head now and I don’t know how to get past it.

“I can’t believe you’re not fucking her,” Tommy muses.

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

“It shows, dude.” He shakes his head. “You need to get laid. Release some of those endorphins. You’ll feel better.”

“It’s just...” I trail off. It’s just...what? It’s different. That’s the only word I can come up with, and it won’t be good enough for Tommy.

Before I get the chance to finish that thought, he plows forward as he lies back on the couch. “Dude, it’s like I tell Dustin and Tyler all the time when they have bugs up their asses. You release oxytocin when you’re banging, and that helps keep you from being depressed. So get yourself laid and let’s have some fun again.”

“You think I have a bug up my ass?” I raise both brows and basically ignore the rest of what he said to me.

“Something’s going on with you, and I have yet to meet a problem that can’t be solved with sex.”

“Do you really think that’s true?” Would I have thought that was true a few weeks ago? Probably. Then I rammed headfirst into a problem that sex can’t solve.

“Hit me with it and I’ll lead you to the sex,” he says. He stares up at the ceiling while he waits for my confession.

I blow out a breath. “Her sister just died, man. It’s heavier than we’re used to. She feels like she’s responsible for the kid, but in actuality I am since I’m his only living parent. I can’t just hop into bed with her.”

“She’s grieving. I get that. The best way to help that grief is to release oxytocin.”

Maybe there’s something to that. She did seem pretty relaxed after the tub incident, barring the embarrassment, of course.

“In the last few days, I’ve started, uh...” Having feelings for her.

It’s okay to say it. Or, it would be if I was talking to someone other than Tommy Stevenson. He won’t understand.

“You like her,” he says flatly.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“So I’m the lone bachelor, then.” His tone is still flat, but I sense the disappointment anyway.

“I’d hardly say that. I don’t know if she’s into me, too, or she wants to give this a try or what. I don’t know what I want. I don’t do this shit and there’s a reason why.” I think over that last statement, and I amend it a bit on a mutter. “There’s a lot of reasons why.”

“Then find another hole to fuck, dude. It doesn’t have to be hers.”

I stand to leave. He’s not helping, and I’m afraid if I sit here much longer, I’m going to say words to him that I’ll regret.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But not here.”

He sits up. “Why?”

“Because I just told you something that’s difficult for me to talk about and your answer is to find a hole to fuck. That’s not useful, Tommy.”

He holds his hands up innocently again, and it’s a bit like he’s trying to calm a rabid child. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t know you were so goddamn sensitive.”

“I’m not.” I blow out a breath. “I think I’m falling for her, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

He presses his lips together. “Yeah, no comment there. Hit up Tyler or Dustin. But if you want to scout some Chicago ass, I’m your dude.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say dryly, and then I take Tommy’s advice and bolt for Tyler’s room.