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She looks surprised by his admission. ‘It is?’
‘Yeah. I can be myself with you. I’ve never felt I could do that before.’
‘Maybe me not knowing who you were at the start helped get us to this point.’
He nods. ‘You might be right. Whatever the reason, I’m not complaining. Although, I might have to take those songs off our tour setlist.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because every single time I hear them I’m going to picture you naked, playing with yourself on my counter. Could wind up being a bit embarrassing for me when my friend springs to life mid song.’
‘Ah. I see what you’re saying. Sorry about that.’
‘Never apologise for that. It’s no big deal. It’s not like they’re popular songs anyway.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’
‘Yep. Always the ones people ask for.’
‘So concerts will be fun for you from now on.’
He laughs and pulls her close to him, breathing her in. He has absolutely no interest in moving. Ever. Her fingers play with his hair, the rhythmic stroking nearly sending him to sleep.
He’d only managed two hours sleep last night and they had been purely by accident. Thankfully, he hadn’t had a nightmare but was too scared to risk it. Besides, lying awake listening to her breathing wasn’t a bad way to spend a few hours. He’s paying for it now though. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want her to leave. He’ll just lie with her for a few minutes then get lunch ready.
∞
Chloe waits a few minutes after he falls asleep before she slowly works her way out from under Tate’s arm. She finally manages to extract herself and pulls the blanket from the other couch, carefully laying it over his naked body. She holds her breath as he stirs, but all he does is drape his arm over his face then stills again.
She tiptoes upstairs and showers again, then gets dressed and comes back downstairs. He’s still asleep so she leaves the music on to mask any noises she might make. Chloe faces the broad countertop and smiles to herself. She opens a few cupboards before she finds something to clean the top with.
Once every trace of their session is wiped away, she picks up the two brown paper bags Tate left at the door when he came in. She unpacks the food and places it in the fridge for later then makes the cup of tea he had distracted her from making earlier.
She takes her mug back into the sitting room and settles on the armchair facing him. He looks tired. Thinking back he always looks tired. Perhaps the nightmares he spoke about keep him awake. Maybe he doesn’t sleep in case he gets dragged into a dream? He must be exhausted. He was barely on the couch for ten minutes before he drifted off.
She smiles as she watches him sleep. He’s beautiful. She hasn’t used that word to describe many men she’s known, but he deserves it. She’s not just referring to his looks, although that is a definite plus. The more she gets to know him, the real him, the person he is inside, the more attractive he becomes. The passion he has for his music is hard to miss. His face lit up when he was talking about performing and she found it impossible not to smile along with him. He absolutely loves what he does and rightly so.
What her gran said about him was accurate. He hasn’t changed since he found fame. No doubt he’s worth quite a bit but didn’t flaunt what he has. From what she can make out from her gran, he helped his family and treated himself to a house and some new transport, but that was it. Unless of course he had a few more houses all over the world, but she highly doubts it.
He wasn’t doing what he does for the fame and fortune. He was doing it because he loved singing and playing music. All the other stuff was a happy accident.
She has no intention of waking him up. He needs to sleep and she’s more than happy to let him get some much needed rest. Problem is, it’s half-one and she’s hungry. She takes one of the pasta salads he brought home with him and sits at the counter while she eats, looking out the window at the rain.
As she’s placing the bowl in the dishwasher, she hears what sounds like a whimper from Tate. The groan that follows is full of pain and stops her in her tracks. He wraps his arms around his head and curls into a ball as he mutters something that sounds like ‘please.’
She turns off the music and sits on the arm of the chair next to his head. Tate pulls at his hair and he buries his head further under his arms, like he’s trying to protect himself from whatever he’s experiencing. Like he had done on the beach a few days ago.
Chloe slowly places her hand on his head and runs her fingers through his hair between his clenched fists. It was something her mother always did for her when she was a child and it soothed her every single time. It seems to be working for him too. She can see the muscles in his arms relaxing and his fingers loosen their painful grip on his hair. After a few minutes his breathing steadies and his whole body relaxes.
She keeps it up until his arm drops from over his face. Chloe gently kisses his cheek then retreats to the other couch and hugs her knees to her chest.
He’s not dealing with what happened to him when he was a child. After seeing what she just did she is sure of that much. Rehab helped him overcome his addiction, but the reason for turning to drugs in the first place is still very much there and something he’s not talking about.
Chloe rests her chin on her knees and watches as his brow furrows briefly before he relaxes again. Unfortunately she has no idea how to help him. Avoiding sleep is only going to make things so much worse for him. Especially when he begins to tour again.
All she can do is hope that, with time, he’ll trust her enough to talk about what really happened to him.
