Page 23 of Finding Home

“Or maybe you’ve actually needed a program, without realizing it.”

I pull a face. “No, before now, my goal was never to stop drinking, forever.”

“Is that your goal now: to stop drinking forever?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. Begrudgingly. “I guess it is.”

Before now, I hadn’t consciously formulated a goal for my sobriety, and I certainly hadn’t thought the word “forever.” But now that we’re having this conversation, I’m realizing there’s no other path forward for me, assuming I win custody of Raine.

Whenever I drink or smoke weed, I wind up giving myself permission to do whatever the fuck I want, without a shred of accountability. And that’s obviously not going to work in my new role as a father. I’ve never laid a finger on anyone I care about when drunk or high. Never would. So, thankfully, in that way, I’m nothing like my father. But I definitely let some major guardrails down, whenever my brain is in a fog, and that’s simply not going to be an option anymore, in my new life as a father.

When it’s clear that’s all I’m going to say on the subject of my sobriety, Aubrey turns and resumes her work. Feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable, I open the cabinet nearest tome and scope it out, figuring the sooner Aubrey finishes her ridiculous task, the sooner I can go to bed.

When I finish scanning the empty cabinets closest to me, I turn to tell Aubrey it’s all clear over here. But when I see her bent over and peeking into a low cabinet, when I get yet another glorious eyeful of her incredible ass, my words lodge in my throat.Damn. That’s an ass I’d love to mark with my teeth. The thought sends tingle shooting into my dick. Yes, Aubrey’s a thorn in my goddamned side. But hot damn, she’s one hell of a sexy thorn.

As I’m still ogling Aubrey’s backside, she straightens up and checks a high cabinet, causing her to reach up and strain on tiptoes. As she stretches, her tank top rides up from the top of her shorty shorts, treating me to a delightful peek of her belly. It’s only a tiny swath of bare flesh. But it’s enough to send another round of tingles shooting between my legs.

I haven’t had “clean and sober” sex yet, but I’ve certainly thought about sex a hell of a lot the past few months, ever since my sex drive came roaring back after detox the first week of rehab. I suppose it’s possible I’m feeling this intense sexual attraction to Aubrey, simply by virtue of her being here with the right body parts for my innately wired sexuality. I can’t deny I’m a horny motherfucker right now. But I don’t think that’s it.

On the contrary, I’m pretty damned sure my body would be craving Aubrey’s with feral force, even if I had a world of women to choose from. Even if I’d had sex with someone, other than my hand, every night for the past few months. Even before rehab, with Mom living with me for so long, and with my focus on her and her downward spiral, I put my entire life on hold for quite a while, including performing and going out with friends. Which meant, formonths, I was no longer engaging in the activities that most typically led to me meeting women.

“A little help, please?” Aubrey says, drawing me from my sexual thoughts.

I sidle over to her and easily reach the high shelf she’s struggling to sweep with her hand; and to my surprise, my knuckles clank against something hard toward the back of the shelf. When I grasp the object, I pull down a half-empty, cheap bottle of tequila. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

It’s a brand of tequila I wouldn’t dirty my mouth for, under normal circumstances. But I can’t deny, in this moment, the sight of the liquid sloshing around against the bottle is making my mouth water. Just this fast, after two months of daily counseling sessions and everything else, I’m suddenly feeling the primal urge to throw away all my progress by twisting off that cap and taking a long, thirsty guzzle, whether it’s the cheap shit or not.

“I had a feeling,” Aubrey says. “With this place being a short-term rental, the odds were highsomeonebrought alcohol here to party with and forgot to take it home with them.”

She puts her hand out, and, much to my chagrin, I hand over the bottle; at which point, Aubrey strides to a window on the other side of the kitchen, twists opens the cap and pours every drop of liquid gold into the bushes below.

Fuck me. As I watch the stream of booze disappearing into darkness, my taste buds conjure the flavor of tequila. The unmistakable smell of it, too, even if I’m only imagining both sensations from this distance.

“I think I’ll head off to bed,” I blurt, my pulse quickening.

“Okay, let me do a quick sweep of yourbedroom first.”

I rough a hand down my face, feeling like a trapped animal. Shit.

“You’ve got this, Caleb,” Aubrey says warmly. She places the empty bottle onto the counter and walks over to me. To my surprise, she places a reassuring palm on my forearm and squeezes. “I’m not your enemy, okay? When it comes to your sobriety, I’m your teammate. I swear, I’m in your corner on this. Not only for your sake, but for Raine’s.”

Raine.

It’s the magic word. The “why” my counselor, Gina, is always yammering on about.

Before now, I’ve admittedly been a distant, disinterested shithead in all my counseling sessions with Gina, since simply avoiding jailtime wasn’t enough of a why for me. Neither was the insurance thing. Same withnotpissing off my bandmates. But Raine? She’s more than enough of awhyfor me to see this thing through now. I don’t know my daughter yet, thanks to my own terrible choices. But I don’t need to know her to love her, just this fast, and to decide I’m now going to do whatever it takes to become the father she deserves.

“I appreciate that,” I reply softly to Aubrey. With her hand still on my bare forearm, I hold her gaze. The air suddenly feels like it’s crackling between us. At least, that’s how it feels on my end.

With flushed cheeks, Aubrey removes her hand from my forearm like it’s on fire. “I’ll go check your bedroom, so you can get to bed.”

Her chest heaving, Aubrey turns on her heel and strides away, giving me yet another lovely view of her swishing ass as she goes.

Suddenly, I know two things to be true, with total clarity:

One, I’m going to fuck Aubrey in this house, sooner rather than later. It’s fucking inevitable. Unavoidable, like gravity.

And two, from this moment forward, I’m going to stick with my sobriety and do whatever it takes not to fuck up this second chance at a new beginning with my daughter.No matter what.

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