I make it back to the room
about
Thing is, I’m not faulting
her for this. She’s concerned about him,
and when you consider what Backstreet is doing, there might be reasons for the
concern. They’re about to head back out
on the road, attempting a comeback that may or may not happen, smaller venues,
travel, press…and then a new girlfriend that can’t drop everything and be with
him – unlike every other girlfriend he’s ever had, it seems. He may not know how to handle that, and maybe
he should concentrate on his career and if it’s real with me – well, I can
wait, I suppose.
But now? Do I do that?
And if I do, how? I don’t want to
walk away. He’s the real thing, you
know? Before I can kick off my shoes,
there’s a knock at the door and room service is standing outside with a basket
on a rolling tray. The waiter smiles at
me, and places the basket down on the table.
“I didn’t order anything,” I explain politely. He checks his ticket and shows me it was
ordered, shrugs off the offer of a tip when I go to reach for my bag and just
tells me to enjoy my day.
So, if I didn’t order it,
and the ticket has our room number on it…AJ ordered it. He looks a little disappointed when he comes
in to find me but opens his arms wide and gives me a hug. “I was hoping I could set up before you got
back.”
“Set up?” I ask as he comes
over and kisses the tip of my nose.
“I’m all yours for the next
twenty-four hours and I don’t want to share you with anyone. So…” He sweeps his arm over towards the
basket. “We’re having a picnic right
here. And in about an hour, there’s
someone coming to give us a massage, and when that’s done, there’s a rose petal
bath.”
“And you didn’t want to
share me, but we have all these people traipsing through our room?” I tease,
sliding my hand into his. “What a fabulously sweet thing to do, Alex. It all sounds disgustingly decadent and
luxurious, but why all the pampering?
You don’t have to win me over, you know.
We’re good.”
“I know,” he says, curling
his arms around me and looking down with a smile. “But I’m still allowed to pamper you, aren’t
I? I don’t get the chance all that
often. And we don’t get twenty-four
uninterrupted hours even less. Let’s
make the most of it.”
“Can you stand me for
twenty-four uninterrupted hours? You
might get sick of me,” I laugh.
He shakes his head slowly,
eyeing me up and down. “Not a
chance. I could be entertained just by
your eyes for at least a week.”
“Wow!” I cackle. “That’s good!
That’s really good.”
“What?” He looks almost dejected.
“I’m sorry…I’ve just never
been seduced before.” I place my hand on
his chest and try to hide another laugh.
“I don’t know if I can do it straight faced.”
“Shush,” he says quietly and
pulls me close, letting a kiss linger between us. I wasn’t kidding, I’ve never been seduced
before, and there’s some serious power behind him
when he turns ‘it’ on. What went from
something so totally obvious, to so amazingly…“It’s not seduction, Miranda,” he
tells me, drawing away from me slowly.
“It’s just real. All you have to
do is believe.”
“I believe. I believe.
I know it’s silly, but I believe,” I say, mimicking Natalie Wood. I get another perplexed look, but he’s not
changing his expression from that intense gaze.
“’Miracle on
“You’ve never been pampered
before?” he asks me, drawing a finger along my cheek gently.
“Not really, no…if I have,
it’s only been some kind of tactic used to get me in bed,” I offer honestly.
“Well, that’s not the
purpose this time,” he says. “We’ll have
lunch, have a massage, soak in a tub…
Just be together, okay? Let me pamper you just ‘because,’ okay?”
“I’m game,” I say, but still
feel really awkward. “But it still feels
like a seduction, and you don’t have to tell me all those pretty little
lines...”
He puts a finger over my
lips, silencing me. “I’ll try to be less
cliché, but they’re not lines, Baby. You just don’t see yourself the way I
do. Maybe I can help you see what I see
by doing all of this and just telling you what I see. It’s not seduction for the sake of getting
laid. It’s seduction because sometimes,
a lady deserves to be seduced and not taken for granted.”
I bite my tongue, holding
back another cackle and exclamation of ‘wow.’
He’s really good at this. You should see his face! His eyes all intense, his mouth soft and
relaxed… It’s a beautiful sight to
behold. I can’t believe I’m actually
believing him! I really want to believe
him. He knows I’m going to sleep with
him, so there’s really no reason for him to have to go through all this trouble
and expense. He doesn’t have to lock
himself away with me. He doesn’t have to
compliment me. I know he finds me
attractive. I just can’t find any other
kind of ulterior motive for it…unless he really means it. He just wants to pamper me for the sake of
pampering? My brain explodes with
another ‘wow.’
He spreads the picnic
blanket across the bed and puts out the food before taking my hand and guiding
me to sit down. I don’t have to do a
single thing other than chew, and that includes lift the food up to my mouth. He’s doing it all, and after a while, the
awkwardness wears off and I’m left just feeling really flattered. We talk about the rest of his morning before
he broaches the subject of breakfast with his mother. “Do I want to know what happened?” he asks.
“Nothing happened,” I tell
him. “She loves you very much, that’s
all. I think she was testing me out to
see if I was good enough for you, or something.
I don’t know if I passed, but I gave it a good shot. She means well. I know that.”
“She can be a little
overbearing sometimes,” he says knowingly.
“I’m sorry about that. I guess I
should have warned you, but I didn’t think she’d go this far. She’s never done something like this
before. Well, at least, not without
telling me first.”
I smooth my hand through his
hair before resting back against the headboard, content and ready to
explode. All this food in one day! But it’s really
good food… “She was perfectly polite and
friendly. There wasn’t anything
wrong. She knew you’d be working, and that
I was here alone so she offered some company.
Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
He gives me a sideways look,
a little bit of disbelief tucked in.
“Except there’s something more to the conversation that you’re not
telling me.”
“She loves you very much,
Alex,” I repeat. “And I think she’s just
being your mother.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning nothing.” I lift a shoulder. “She just wanted to let me know that.”
“That she’s my mother?”
“That you are very special to
her, and there’s a bond between you because of everything you’ve been through
together.” That’s what it was, wasn’t
it? She’s worried she’ll lose her son
again and can anyone blame her? She’s
already lost and fought to get him back once.
“I’m kind of flattered she took the time out for me, Alex.” He’s not quite buying it, but he’s not sure
if he shouldn’t, either. He knows
something isn’t quite right, but he can’t figure out what, which is good,
because I am so not going to get in the middle of them. I can respect Denise’s place in his
life…she’ll just have to learn to respect the place I have right now, that’s
all. She’s a mother. She loves him, is concerned about him and
wants to protect him to the best of her abilities. Knowing what I know, seeing what I see, I
don’t think he needs to be protected, and if he does, I think he’s strong
enough to ask for help from the people around him. I’m choosing to have faith in him, that’s
all.
“Look…she’s been less than
polite in the past,” he tells me honestly.
“If she’s said or did anything…”
“We had breakfast, Baby,” I
interrupt and caress his cheek with a smile.
“Honestly…that’s all it was.”
He kisses me. “No it wasn’t, but I’m cool with it. Just promise me that if she ever gets out of
line you’re not going to be afraid to tell me, okay? I love her, she’s my mom and all, but I also
know she gets a little carried away sometimes and forgets that I’m not ten
years old anymore.”
“Alex, you’re forever going
to be ten years old…she’s your mother.”
Well,
we’re back to reality: work, rehearsals, late nights, meetings with the label,
management meetings -- the never ending loop that seems to keep me from seeing
Miranda all over again. I’m busy all
day, she’s busy all night. Her days off
are spent taking care of errands while I’m working. Dinner breaks aren’t enough, are they? Not if you’re in a real relationship,
right? How can we say we’re together if
we’re never together?
“You’re
joking, right?” Kevin scoffs at me between chewing with his mouth open at
lunch. “It’s not ideal, but dude,
sometimes you have to work at it.”
“Easy
for you to say…” I grumble, getting Miranda’s voicemail again. This time, I
just hang up. What’s the point?
When
I put the phone down, I realize Kevin’s giving me his ‘you idiot’ look
again. He drops his sandwich, wipes his
hands and sits back, keeping his gaze.
“Easy for me to say?” he asks, but he’s not looking for an answer. I’m getting a lecture. “I’m living it, dude. I’ve been
living it. For years, remember? Where the hell is this standard you’re trying to live up to? Who
do you know has the ideal
relationship? Sees their girlfriend
every minute of the day? In this
business?” I roll my eyes at him with a
heavy sigh. “Stop being a spoiled brat
and figure out what you want. Miranda’s
not at your beck and call. She’s not
going to be, so you have to get used to it or end it.”
“Haven’t
you figured out that we’re not you,
Kevin?” I spat.
“I’m
not saying you have to be. But you make
a choice and live with it,” he
answers just as firmly. “You grow
up. You think Miranda doesn’t want
something different, too?”
“So,
what’s the point?”
All
he does is shake his head at me. “That’s
for you to figure out,” he tells me and clears away his lunch, clearly not pleased
with my grousing. But I’m serious. What’s the point of all this if we can’t see
each other? If we’re never together, why
are we, well, together?
“Dude…” Nick lifts his leg over the back of a chair
and plops himself down across the table from me. “We on for tonight?”
“Yeah.” I nod, although I’m not feeling all that
enthusiastic about hanging out right now.
“Cool.” Nicky needs to get out, and no one else seems
to be up for the task. I think he needs
some real friends around him, not just the ones who’re out for his
hand-me-downs and to be seen with the ‘beautiful people.’ Ever since the whole Pain-in-the-Heiress
incident, he’s been a little…reckless.
He was burned, scorched actually, by her and he’s been going out of his
way to make it look like it doesn’t matter to him. But the more ‘partying’ and ‘playing’ he
does, the more it says to us that he’s hurting and burying it. We’re trying to be there for him, but he’s
not opening up. “There’s a premiere
party we were invited to, and then they’re heading out…” I tune him out. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it? A long night with a lot of alcohol around me,
and Nicky’s not gonna stay sober, either.
I owe him though, don’t I? How
many times has he put up with me over the years?
“Dude,
can we eat?” I ask, pulling Nick’s
sleeve to keep him from wandering away from me again. The place is a madhouse, wall-to-wall people,
and Nick’s making friends with all of them, I think. He promised me we’d just stop off here quick
and then we’d go eat, but this ‘quick’ stop has been an hour and a half
now. I’m cranky and hungry and losing my
patience.
“Just
a sec…just a sec…” he tells me before disappearing back into the mob.
I’m
not chasing after him so I make my
way over to the patio, pushing myself as close to the edge as possible and
wait. Who the hell are these people
anyway? I recognize one or two, but most
of them, I have no clue. They’re all
blending together – flippy pink skirts, tans and tank tops all holding some
kind of umbrella drink or bottled water.
One looks exactly like the other if you ask me – and they all look like
friggin’ Paris Hilton. It’s enough to
make you want to take a gun to your head.
I’m
friendly to the ones that venture over and gush at me. Lucie, Tammie, Sandie, Micki…I get the
feeling they all dot their ‘i’s with a heart or smiley face and know they’re all holding back from
asking me ‘where’s Nick?’ This isn’t my
scene. These aren’t the people I hang out
with. Never has been, thank God. How on Earth did Nick get into this kind of
crowd?
I
grab a bottled water from a waiter on his way through the crowd and look around
hoping to find Nick, but he’s still being a ‘beautiful person’ and is
nowhere in sight. Just as another heart-dotted-‘i’ heads my
way, I decide to look busy and take out my cell. Miranda’s working…maybe she’ll be at her
desk.
“Miranda
Johnson.”
“Thank
God, a real person!” I turn my back on the crowd and look out onto the
manicured grounds no one is allowed to be on.
“Hey,
stranger! I was just thinking about
you! How’s the party scene tonight?”
“Excruciating,”
I answer, and my entire body wants to climb through the phone to be with her
instead of where I am. “Do you have any
idea how…fake? Empty?”
“Dude,
look where you are. What’re you
expecting?” she chuckles.
“I
know, I guess…” I exhale deeply. “I can’t figure out how he became so damn
different than the rest of us.” Before
there’s a pause, I change my mind.
“Never mind, I know.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve
never met Jane, have you?”
“So,
you’re with me because I’m like Denise?” she asks, and I think there’s fear in
her voice.
“I
didn’t say that,” I tell her, a little anger in mine.
“Hey,”
her voice softens, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was teasing.”
“Whatever.” Yeah, that’s a brush off, isn’t it? “Look, I’m gonna go find him and see if I can
drag him out of here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Alex?”
she questions. “Honestly, I was teasing.”
“I
know. I’m just…it’s crowded and I’m
hungry,” I make excuses, scanning the mob for Nick again when I turn
around. “I’ll call you later.”
“Well,
we’re quiet here tonight if you wanted to stop by,” she offers. “I’m like eighty percent done with my weeklies.”
“I’ll
see where we end up,” I tell her. “I’ll
call.”
There’s
a brief exchange of ‘love you’ before I hang up and head back out and I’ll
admit, it was a pretty half-hearted ‘love you.’
But I don’t linger on it because I find Nick and know exactly where he
needs to be. Enough of this emptiness
and these false personalities. He needs
a shot of reality – real women, real atmosphere…reality. “We’re leaving,” I tell him, interrupting him
and his new-found friends. He attempts
to protest, but I walk away not giving him a chance to protest and he follows
behind me.
“Dude…I
was just…” he tells me, already sounding apologetic.
I
wave my hand at him and keep heading towards the car. “It’s cool, but you’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
I
give him a look and point the clicker to the car to turn off the alarm. “Just get in the car.”
Within
a half hour, I’m back on familiar territory, and he’s like a kid in a candy
store. It took all of two minutes for
the blush to disappear from his face, and he settles in to watch the ladies
gyrate against the pole in the middle of the club. Music is blaring, we order some bar food, he
gets a drink and I make sure he’s treated to a lap dance.
These
are women. There’s a tease, but it’s an understood tease. These girls are here to be looked at and show
off their assets, and they’re not going to coo and blush and pretend it’s
something it isn’t. They keep it real, follow the rules, don’t change the rules, and it’s exactly what
Nick needs. A good shot of reality and
sexuality that’s not ‘forbidden’ or plastered all over the papers the next day
as a publicity stunt. Just some good, old fashioned, fun.
“Dude!”
he exclaims a little later, watching Bonnie, a buxom blonde in a slinky pink
dress dance in front of him. “Thank you,
thank you, thank you!”
Ladies
and gentleman, my job here is done.
I
drop Nick off, not too drunk even, and decide to stop by the hotel and see
Miranda after all. I’m feeling pretty
good, and kind of guilty for the phone call earlier. The lobby is virtually empty, and I sort of
recognize the girl at the counter when I ask if Miranda’s in her office. She knows me, but I don’t know if it’s
because it’s me, or if it’s because she knows I’m seeing Miranda…or, maybe
both. I get pointed in the right
direction and make my way down the hallway forbidden to hotel guests.
“Come
in,” she calls when I knock, and her entire face brightens up with the smile
she gives me. “Hey, you!” She comes around the desk and throws her arms
around my neck, kissing me.
“Hey,
yourself,” I chuckle, really, really
glad I came by – just because of that smile on her face. “Did I come at a good time?”
“You
always come at a good time,” she tells me, taking my hand and backing up to sit
on her desk. “How’d it go with Nick?”
“I
think I may have enlightened him a little,” I say.
“Do
I want to know how?”
“I
don’t know, do you?” Does she? How would
she react to me hanging out in a strip club all night? Some people have problems with something like
that, think it’s cheating somehow.
Miranda’s down-to-earth, though.
She doesn’t seem like she’d have a hang up with it.
She
gives me a smile though and shakes her head.
“Know what? I don’t. I have a pretty good idea. Did you have a good time, at least?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” She looks over my shoulder with a sly smile
and pulls me closer, grabbing my butt and pulling me closer for a kiss. See, now this could be dangerous. I’ve spent the night watching half naked, and
naked, women and my body’s a little…sensitive, shall we say? “Can you hang out for a while, or did you
just stop by?”
“I
can hang.” I’m not going to be leaving
anytime soon in this condition, anyway.
“Even
better,” she says. “Wait right
here.” She slips past me and disappears
for a few minutes, but comes back grinning happily. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go
where?”
“Anywhere
but here,” she laughs lightly. “I’ve
been set free.” She goes around the
desk, grabs her purse and keys and comes along side of me. “Where to?”
“Someplace
close,” I say, bringing her back to the desk and nuzzling her neck. “How about right here?” She’s wearing a skirt today, and I let my
hand ride up her thigh as she laughs in my ear and I push her blouse aside to
suck on her collarbone.
“Except
for the fact that this is my office and anyone can walk in,” she says,
attempting to pull away – but really, not all that far.
I
lean back and push the door closed with my foot. “Don’t you have a lock on the door?” I ask,
moving back to kiss her deeply and slide my hand back up between her legs. She starts laughing again until I slide my
fingers between her legs and it turns into a quick gasp, followed by a short
moan. “You know you want to,” I tell
her. “I know you want to.” I keep
kissing her neck and throat as she repeats that
anyone can just walk in. “You
think they will?” I ask, pushing her skirt up a little further and settling
myself between her legs. “Think they’ll
want to watch?”
“Think
I’ll keep my job if they do?” she asks between quick gasps of arousal and
kisses.
“You
will if you let them watch,” I mumble against her skin, letting my fingers
unbutton her blouse as hers unbutton my jeans.
Lowering my mouth to her breast, I run my tongue along the cup of her
bra, struggling to unclasp it from behind.
If anyone does walk in now,
it’s more than a little compromising, but there’s no stopping now. I hike her skirt up further, hook my fingers
around the elastic of her panties and pull them off. She moans quietly in my ear when I slide
myself into her and cups my head in her hand as the other slides up beneath my
tee shirt along my spine. “You’re so
ready, baby,” I tell her. “You’re so
wet.”
I
thrust into her again and she answers me with a moan. “You feel so
good,” she tells me and leans back a little more on the desk so I can thrust
deeper. Her blouse is wide open, her bra
unclasped and her breasts peek out beneath the cups. She holds onto the opposite side of the desk
as I lean over her and continue thrusting into her, ready to explode. “Just a little more,” she gasps quietly, and
I think this is the first time we’ve ever
been this quiet. “Harder,” she tells me,
over and over, pulling my waist against her and greeting me with her hips. “That’s…it…that’s…yes…that’s…harder, Alex…” Instead of screaming when she comes, she
lifts up and buries her face in my neck, clutching and writhing against
me. “Oh, God you feel so good…” Her
mouth covers mine and her tongue slides in and out as if replicating my
movements in her swollen, throbbing pussy.
She
pulls away from me, panting heavily, and before I know it, she’s shifted down
to her knees, taking my cock into her mouth to finish me off. I rest my hands on the desk to hold myself
steady and peer down to watch her head bob against my hips, the way her mouth puckers to accept me. It’s not long now, and when she slips her
tongue around my tip one more time, I explode, digging a hand into her hair.
“Damn,
I taste good on you,” she whispers, and she pulls herself up. Sliding her hands along my torso, she kisses
me long and deep. We’re out of breath,
sweating, and half naked, standing in the middle of her office, and she’s
right, anyone could walk in right now – but damn, it’s worth it.
She
pulls away, looks at me, and starts laughing as she shakes her head and starts
putting herself back together again.
It’s not going to matter. One
look at us, and they’ll know what happened in here. We’re both flushed, and there’s a distinct
gleam in her eye that screams ‘satisfaction.’
I’m sure I have the same one.
“So, where to?” I ask with a grin.
“Someplace
close,” she answers, tucking her shirt back in, “so we can keep doing
this.” She looks me in the eye with her
own grin. “Uninterrupted.”
“I
like the way you think, Baby,” I laugh before kissing her quickly and putting
myself back together.
“I
like the way you taste,” she whispers in my ear, grabbing her handbag and
pausing by the door to look at me smugly.
“Coming?”
“Again,”
I tell her, wagging my finger at her as we start down the hallway. “And again, and again.”
“So, when was your first
time?” he asks me as the sun rises onto my patio. We’re wrapped in a sheet, naked beneath, and
resting together on a lounge chair. I’m not
even sure why, anymore, just that we’re here, content and cuddling.
“Sophomore year in college,”
I tell him. “I was truly in love for the
first time and thought for sure I was going to marry him so I broke my own rule
of no sex before marriage because, well, what was the difference, right?”
“What happened?”
I exhale, remembering John,
and smile. “I guess I changed my mind,”
I explain. “He’s still a sweetheart, and
I wasn’t very nice to him in the end.
But basically, one day we went out with some friends and I...realized I
didn’t love him that much. I totally
shocked myself, and spent a few days trying to tell myself that I did, but I
couldn’t convince myself and ended it.
That didn’t go well either. I
think I still feel guilty about it.”
“What’d you do?”
“Become a bitch,” I answer
honestly. “Lied…accused him of cheating
on me when he didn’t. And I knew he
didn’t. I handled it all very badly. Lost most of my friends in the process,
though, so I guess karma kicked me in the ass.”
“Do you regret being
intimate?”
“Oh, God no, not at
all. I’m glad I waited as long as I
did. We were in love, and he never pressured me.
He was very respectful and caring.
No, no regrets at all. A few
times afterwards, with other guys, but not with him.”
“Why with other guys? What’d they do?”
“Nothing.” And really, they didn’t do anything wrong, on
their part. They were just doing what
they set out to do, I suppose. I agreed. I was a willing participant, but
afterwards? I wondered why I did it in
the first place. “I guess it’s more you
can’t take back what you do or say. I
slept with people to prove to myself that I could, just because I couldn’t
figure out a way to say ‘no’ without feeling like an idiot. Mostly, it was just because I knew I didn’t
really care, and knew they didn’t either.
College, I guess. You sleep with
someone just because you can and it’s considered the ‘cool’ thing to do or some
such nonsense. I mean, thankfully, most
of the guys I’ve slept with haven’t been creeps. No one’s ever given me a reputation, or
anything. But I’d take back a few
notches on my belt if I had the chance.
What about you?”
I can feel him nod against
me and just picture the look on his face – that almost knowing smile of
admission. “Yeah, there’s a few notches
I could do without, too, but I think I had a different world.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, “you could
say that again.”
“Well, it didn’t start off
like that,” he protests. “I was actually
dating the person I lost it with. But
then it moved quickly onto ‘I’m bored and you’re willing, so why not?’ too
quickly, I think. But…in my defense,
there was a lot of temptation for a hormonal teenager.”
“I’ll give you that, yes,” I
chuckle, unable to even imagine the kind of things he’s seen. It kind of blows my mind when I think about
it. I mean, really think about that for a minute.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen?
Traveling the world and being
an international sensation with mobs of girls screaming your name? Why the hell wouldn’t you take advantage of that?
It’s every teenager’s dream, isn’t it?
You have money, you’re not in regular school, you’re popular beyond
you’re wildest dreams, and you’re living with your best friends. Who’s really going to say ‘no’ to that? You don’t have hindsight at that point. That’s half the problem, isn’t it? No one ever thinks they’re going to be a
‘rock’n’roll suicide.’
“You getting sleepy on me?”
he asks, wiggling his shoulder lightly.
I must be because I didn’t realize I was dozing off in my own thoughts.
“No, just…laying here.”
“So, what do you think? Will you have regrets about us someday?”
Okay, that’s a weird
question, isn’t it? What does that
mean? Does that mean ‘someday’ when I
look back at us after we’re broken up, or ‘someday’ when we’re old and holding
hands on a park bench somewhere? Does
that mean when I think about our first time together, or something like
tonight, when it was some kind of hedonistic sex-a-thon? How do I answer that? “I guess it depends.”
“On?”
“On…I don’t know.” How it ends?
If it ends? Is he looking for
some kind of prediction of our future together?
Isn’t it too soon to predict?
“Right now, no. There’s no
regrets.” And that’s the truth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened so
far. Every time I’ve been with him, I’ve
wanted to be with him, enjoyed it. “What about you?” There…I’ll turn it around on him and see what
he says.
“No,” he answers
quickly. “I can’t regret anything,
really. It brought me where I am today,
on all levels. And I’m kind of enjoying
that.”
Hmm….That’s classic
‘Thera-speak’ for I don’t want to really answer that question. Don’t answer the question asked, but broaden
it out to the ‘universe.’ How did we
spend such an amazing night together, laughing, kissing, sex, talking…and now I
feel like he’s closing off from me. A
conversation this intimate shouldn’t get broadened out like that – not when we
weren’t talking about generalities, right?
He brought the subject up in the first place!
I watch the clouds blow over
us quietly, listening to the birds begin to chirp in the dusk. What do I want him to say, anyway? ‘You’re
it, Andi. There will never be any
regrets and we’ll live happily ever after’ as if he knows any more than I
do? Maybe tonight is just getting to me,
just getting tired.
“Baby?” I turn my head to rest my cheek against his
chest. “I think I need to sleep.”
He kisses the top of my head
and lets out a warm chuckle that rumbles in his chest. It’s such a soothing, comforting sound, and I
close my eyes to it. “Okay, Baby,” he
says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I don’t even have to
walk. He carries me, in spite of my
protesting, but just tells me to put my head on his shoulder and be quiet. Oh, so romantic, isn’t it? But we make it into the bedroom, and he
places me down on the mattress, pulling up the blankets from the foot of the
bed to cover us once he gets in beside me.
“Sweet dreams, Baby,” he whispers in my ear, kissing the side of my
cheek before snuggling up next to me.
How do I sleep when he’s not here?
How do I get comfortable?
“Where
are you?” Howie asks once I find my cell phone somewhere in the living room.
“Oh,
shit!” I exclaim, and then exclaim it
again a little more quietly realizing that Miranda’s still asleep. “I overslept …” Looking around, it’s like a tornado came
through here. Clothes are scattered
everywhere, things knocked over, pillows and cushions askew. We had a good
night last night, didn’t we? “I’ll,
uh…” I’m forcing my brain to think of
something, but all it’s saying is ‘go back to bed, Alex.’ “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Howie
gives me his knowing little chuckle.
“Hey, Al? Where are you right
now?”
“Huh?”
“You’re
not at home, are you?”
“No,
I’m at Miranda’s.”
“Oh…okay. Good.”
“What’s
that supposed to mean?”
“That
means Nicky told us where you guys went last night,” he giggles. No, really, he giggles. “I’m guessing you enjoyed yourself too?”
“I’ll
be there as soon as I can, Howard,” I
grumble into the phone. “And that may be
a while after that comment.”
“Fifty
bucks, man,” he reminds me. “You’re
definitely the last one in today.”
“I’ll
bring lunch…and that’s more than
fifty.” I hang up and drop down to the
cushion-less couch. I am so not going to
be rushing to get in there. I think the
last time I looked at the clock it was
When
I climb back into bed, Miranda immediately rolls up against me and sighs
contentedly. I’m not sure how she knows
it’s me, or even if she does when she’s asleep, but it’s a nice thought to
think she does. Is it too much to ask to
have everything be like this? I always
think it’s going to be so damn much work to make that happen, but then last
night happens. You know, last night, I
really wasn’t expecting to see her at all, but fate steps in, and she gets off
early and it was just amazing. Good surprises are pretty awesome. Surprises with her are more than that. I just want everything with her to be like
last night – exciting, fun, energetic, erotic…
It’s
not helping that my mind keeps going over what we did, hearing the sound of her
moans and sighs in my head. The rest of
my body is waking up with it, too, and she sighs in her sleep next to me. I curl up closer, rubbing my hand over her
belly gently and hear her sigh again. I
creep my hand up to cup her breast, running my thumb over her nipple, and she
shifts slightly, stretching a leg straight along mine. “Are you waking up?” I barely whisper, in
case she’s not. I think she is. She makes some kind of sleepy, mumbling sound
which I means ‘yes.’ “Should I let you
sleep?”
“Who
needs sleep?” she mumbles, reaching her hand back and running it over my thigh,
only waking the rest of my body up more.
Then, there’s another surprise.
She lifts her leg up over mine
and shifts again, reaching down to slide my erection between her
legs. “Slow, though, okay?”
That’s
the beauty of this position. It has to be slow otherwise you spend most
of your time trying to get yourself back inside. It can be very intimate if you take your
time, and when I think of how she reacted the first time I tried, I’m blown
away that she took the initiative to let this happen. I just concentrate on the rhythm and try to
hold her close, listening to our breath get heavier. “You feel so good…so tight like this…God,
Miranda…I love…,” I tell her, struggling to keep the rhythm slow. “Oh, God,
I love you, Miranda.”
She
moans, her hand grabbing onto my wrist across her chest. She gasps into the pillow, and I can’t keep
the pace, feeling her orgasm against my cock like this. It’s not long before I come, holding on
tightly to her and slowly bringing us into a slow rocking motion again, feeling
her heartbeat against my wrist and the lift of her belly with her breathing
against my arm. “You okay?” I
whisper. She nods, but doesn’t answer,
and I get nervous. I shift, lifting up
to my elbow to peer down at her and see tears on her shoulder. “Oh, Baby…Miranda…” I start, but she shakes
her head and offers a smile.
“No,
no…” she says, seeing my face. “It was
always so anonymous.” I’m confused,
then. Why the tears? “But this wasn’t,” she says, reading my mind.
“I still felt like you were with me,
wanted to be with me and not just
some nameless, faceless body.” She
shakes her head. “I’m being stupid, and
probably not making much sense to anyone but me. It was exactly
what I wanted it to be. No regrets.”
My, how things change in
just a matter of weeks. Thing is, I
don’t know what happened to make anything change. Ever since we came back from
Not that any of that makes
me feel any better, although I keep trying to convince myself that it
should. I’ve never dated anyone
famous. I don’t know what their schedule
is like. I didn’t know what I was
getting into. Maybe all this is just
‘par for the course.’
Or maybe he’s just not
interested anymore. And every time I
think about that, I feel my eyes well up with tears. I let myself get close to him. I let myself trust him. I let myself fall in love. But then, just when I’m ready to think I’m
never going to hear from him again, I get a phone call. Not that he tells me what’s going on. He’s kind of quiet, gets frustrated easily,
but he doesn’t say ‘I can’t do this.’ He
doesn’t say much of anything, but by the end of the call, we’re laughing and teasing
and feels like things are fine. Until I
ask to see him and he needs to ‘check his schedule’ and I don’t hear from him
again for a few days.
So, what do I make of
that? That his schedule isn’t
clear? But why can’t he tell me
that? What the hell is going on? I hate being like this. I hate checking my phone and finding no messages. I hate that extra skip of my heart when it
rings at work, and it’s not him. I hate
that I’m sitting here thinking about it all the time! I was fine without a boyfriend. I’ll be fine without one again. But I’ve kind of liked having one. I’ve loved having him.
It’s been three days since I
last talked to him, and part of me thinks I’m going to hear from him
today. I don’t know what I’m going to do
when he calls, either. How long do I do
this? Am I
being irrational? How do I do this at
all? Over the phone? Is he waiting for me to break up with
him? Is that why he’s doing this? He can’t, so he’s being a creep so I
will? I hate mind games. I hate them!