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That was fine until both of my brothers were too old to abide by anyone's rules and I was way too young to have the freedom it gave me. I was a teenager who didn't need a nanny following me around. I needed honesty from my parents. I needed to know that everything would be alright.
I started using then. It was alcohol at first to numb the pain of not having my dad around. I graduated to weed after that. It was a step up and I knew that it pissed both my parents off. They may think that's why I did it. It's not. I needed the buzz to function.
I stare at the flash drive. Daniel offered to forward the voicemail to my phone. The temptation was there but to have it so accessible would have fed the addictive parts of me. I know that I would have listened to it over and over, my dad's words echoing so deeply in my mind that they'd never leave. I don't want that. I can't do that to myself.
I've always had my doubts. They started when my dad refused to show me how to ride a bike when I was five-years-old. They intensified when they filed for divorce and he didn't fight for custody of me. I was the only one underage back then and he gave my mom full custody. There was no arguing, no scheduling visits.
Since I've hit it big, my mother's former lovers have crawled out of the woodwork to sell their stories to the press. My dad's mistresses have gotten equal time in every one of those magazines people thumb through in the grocery line.
There have been dozens of pictures printed of me and my brothers, with captions about how I don't resemble them. The ones that stung the most were the articles that had images of me right next to photographs of men I've never met, but who knew my mom nine months before I was born.
My parents told me it was all the press trying to push me to react. My brothers both warned me to stop paying attention. "It comes with fame," Gabriel told me. "You're a big name now, Junior, don't let the little people fuck with you," Caleb said.
I ignored it, instead diving into my music, nurturing my career. Maybe I would have overlooked all the signs forever. I don't know. All I do know is now it's different. Everything is fucked since I listened to the voicemail on that flash drive. It lasts less than thirty seconds but the words are crystal clear. I can still hear every nuance in my dad's voice, the way he pauses before he speaks.
I don't have to plug the flash drive back into my laptop to know exactly what he says to Caterina in that voicemail.
"Remember what I said this morning, Pumpkin. Gianna and I have worked hard to keep this quiet. You can't tell anyone he's not my son. If that reporter calls again, you say nothing. Not one word. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, he's a Foster just like his brothers. "
***
"Pizza?" she asks. "Are you taking me to Brooklyn?"
I kiss her to quiet my racing heart. It's f
elt that way for hours now, ever since I was putting the envelope back in the safe. Caleb called me right then and even though I tried to sound calm, he knew something was wrong.
I told him it was just stress from writing the new songs. I doubt he bought it. He offered to take me out for dinner, to a place we used to go to when I was in college. I told him to get in line since I was having dinner with Falon tonight. He wished me luck before he ended the call.
"You must really like Brooklyn pizza if it makes you this excited." She dips her chin towards my crotch and my erection which is now pushing against her stomach.
"Your kisses do something to me." I steal another, running my tongue along her soft bottom lip. "Just kiss me again."
Her hand circles the back of my neck, pulling me closer. She moans softly into my mouth, the agony of hearing that is so strong that I want to push her into her apartment so I can fuck her again. Who needs pizza, or anything for that matter, when a woman like this is in your arms?
"Do you want to stay here?" she asks against my lips.
It's like she's read my mind, or maybe it's that I've been practically dry humping her. "I want to, but the pizza. I want you to taste it."
It sounds so fucked up. I shouldn't care about her as much as I do, but I like her. She's fun to be around. She's incredible in bed. I could call it a distraction but it's more than that. I want her to know that I'm not using her just for a quick lay. I want her to get that.
She swallows. "Let's go to Brooklyn for pizza."
I raise my eyebrows. "You're sure. You'll have to admit I'm right once you take a bite."
"You're so sure of yourself." She pats my shoulder with her hand as she brushes past me toward the stairs. "We both know you're wrong, Asher. When are you finally going to admit it?"
CHAPTER 25
Falon
"I didn't say you were right." I tentatively take another bite of pizza. "I said it was good. That's not the same thing."
"You just don't want to admit it," he goads me. "If you admit that it's the best you've ever had, I'll win."
"I forgot," I say before I place the paper napkin on the plate. "What exactly was the wager again?"
He takes another hearty bite. He's eaten more than half the pizza himself. I wait while he chews, glancing around the dimly lit restaurant. The man working behind the counter greeted him by his first name when we arrived. He spoke to Asher in another language. It was Italian I think. I was stunned that Asher could speak it as fluently as he does.
