“I’m sorry I keep hitting you,” I sniffled.
“I’m sorry I keep deserving it.”
“I loved that violin more than anything. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”
“It’s replaceable, Pest.”
“No!” I cried out. “You saved for months to buy it for me, and I broke it over your body!”
Staring at him holding my busted violin in his hands was too much for me. I was ashamed of myself. Not just because of my outburst, but the pressure my issues put on everyone. Maybe they were right. Maybe canceling was a good idea. If for no other reason than they didn’t have to worry about me. I’d make it up to Tiffany and the fans…somehow.
Pushing away from him, I snatch my phone off the nightstand and called Lush myself. On the third ring a woman answered.
“My name is Tempest Wilder,” I explained. “I have an upcoming show—”
“Shut the fuck up,” she said, cutting me right off.
“Pardon?” That was a tad rude.
“Name‘s Jules,” she said. “I’m one of the owners, head of security, and a serious fan. Whatcha need, gorgeous?”
“For safety reasons,” I struggled getting the words out. Words I never thought I’d say. “I need to cancel my show.”
She was quiet a moment before she started laughing. What was with this woman? I didn’t find any of this funny. However, before I could say anything, she gave me an order I couldn’t help but follow.
“Grab a pen and paper, I’m about to school you.”
Not sure what was happening, I grabbed the pen and pad courtesy of the hotel and listened with my mouth hanging open. Five minutes later, after a detailed explanation of her background, the other owner’s background, and Lush’s contingency plan, I still couldn’t close my mouth. Was she for real?
“Still want to cancel?” she asked smugly.
“No,” I laughed loud. “Not even a little bit. But I think I might be in love with you.”
“I get that a lot,” she chuckled. “See you tomorrow at rehearsal, hot stuff.”
“Bye, Jules.”
When Chevy walked in and saw me smiling he asked, “It’s on?”
“Like Donkey Kong.”
Nodding, he turned and walked out, but not before I caught him smiling, too.

Her guard was down after coming once on my tongue and twice more while riding me. Three orgasms in under twenty minutes did that to Tempest. My girl liked to get off. My girl loved working for it. Now that she was blissed out, the second she collapsed in a sated heap on my chest, I pounced. Tucking her hair behind her ear, I whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?” she asked perking up. Pest loved surprises. “More orgasms?”
“It’s better than an orgasm,” I said, smacking her ass.
“That’s a bold statement,” she said and bit my nipple in retaliation. “But you have my attention. Proceed.”
“You trust me, Pest?”
Biting her lip, I saw her waiver, ready to make an excuse for bailing out, but at the last moment she nods and said, “Yes, I trust you.”
Smacking her ass again, I rolled us over, pinning her under me. Careful that I don’t smother her, I kissed the mouth I loved so much and said, “Dress casual, you have ten minutes.”
“Will you locate your ball cap so I can wear it?”
“Won’t need it,” I promised her.
“Are you sure?”
“Pest,” I asked her. “Thought you trusted me.”
“Okay, Chevy,” she sighed. “We’ll do this your way.”
“Fucking finally,” I groaned, rolling to the side. “Nine minutes now. Get that ass in gear.”
Like a shot, she was off the bed and snagging discarded clothes off the floor, piecing together an outfit. Where I was taking her, it wouldn’t matter what she wore. It was all about showing up, and it was long overdue. Sliding her ballet-slipper-shoe-things on she loved so much, Pest was ready with three minutes to spare.
Taking extra care because I had precious cargo on my bike, I was ten minutes late knocking on the steel door. When it creaked open, Pest took a cautious step back reaching for my hand. Twining our fingers together, I pulled her to my side and took my free arm slinging it over her shoulder.
“Mr. James,” Wanda said in greeting. “You came.”
“I did.”
“And you brought us a special guest, I see.”
Pest wanted to hide, but I wouldn’t allow it. Bringing her forward, I introduce the pair. “Wanda, this is Tempest. Tempest, this is Wanda Dean; she runs this place.”
“Seeing you is a dream come true,” Wanda said, extending a hand. Carefully doing the same, Tempest offered hers and fuck me, I was proud of her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda,” Pest whispered.
“Well, come in!” she said while pushing the door wider. “Everyone is assembled and waiting in the gymnasium.”
“Assembled?” Pest stumbled. “Gymnasium? Chevy, what am I walking into?”
“You trust me?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then trust me.”
Biting her lip was her way of conceding, and with a tight grip on her hand I lead her through the facility to the gymnasium. Even if Wanda wasn’t escorting us, we’d have found the way. The music pouring from down the hall was loud and infectious.
Relaxing a little more with each step, we were behind Wanda when she opened the double doors, and I ushered Tempest ahead of me. With my hands on her shoulders, we clear the doors, and instantly her hands come up to cover her mouth.
As Apocalyptica’s For Whom The Bell Tolls played, she didn’t move. Just stood and stared. This, I understood. Because inside the gymnasium were one hundred and seventeen teenagers playing an instrument each and above them an enormous banner read, Thank you, Tempest, with all their signatures.
Moving her forward and halting mid-floor, she whips around and whispers, “I don’t understand, Chevy.”
“You will,” I promised, leading her further inside.
“Everyone,” Wanda said, quieting the room. “Set down your pieces and join me in giving Tempest a warm round of applause.”
For the record, it wasn’t just applause, but screaming, whistling, and the stomping of teenage feet. Raising her hand, Wanda shushed them again and addressed us. Tempest specifically.
“Without your generosity, these aspiring musicians wouldn’t have access to instruments, teachers, or scholarships. Because of you, Tempest Wilder, these arts are alive and well here at the center. Because of you, these musicians will be heard.”
Breaking free from my hold, she approached Wanda and said, “Ms. Dean, there’s been a mistake. I’m not responsible for this.”
“No?” she smiled kindly. “Are you not Tempest Wilder?”
“Obviously I am, but—”
“I have it on good authority that a musical program for gifted inner-city youth was a dream of yours,” she said, looking around the room. “And here it is, alive and well. Because of you.”
“Ma’am,” she tried again. “I didn’t do this. Wait, whose authority?”
Glancing at me, Wanda pointed and said, “His authority, dear.”
“May I have a moment?” Pest asked before coming back to me. “Something you want to tell me, Chevy?”
“Yeah,” I said and kissed her nose. “Grab an instrument and rock the fuck out already.”
“You did this,” she whispered. “For…me?”
“I’m not always a fuck up, Pest,” I grinned down at her. “Okay, fine, this one time I wasn’t. Now are we gonna play or what?”
Giving me an enormous smile, she nodded and said, “We’ll play.”
And for the next three hours, that’s exactly what we did. Taking time between songs to talk to the kids, answer questions and even sing, Pest was in her element. She was free to be herself without the media hounding her. I took a break to grab the pizza and drinks I had delivered
prior, and for the next hour after that we ate.
Then, Tempest, of all people, started a food fight.
It was fucking epic.
As we were preparing to leave, covered in food, I asked the group to get together with her for a photo. My girl didn’t even hesitate, so I took about fifty different shots. That done, she hugged every single kid and our exit took an extra hour. But fuck no was I going to rush her. I hadn’t seen her this happy or at ease in years. We weren’t even to the back door when she grabbed me and took my mouth in a searing kiss. Pulling her to me, I returned it and was all in until I remembered where we were.
“We’ll finish this at the hotel,” I groaned.
“No,” she licked her lips. “I’ll finish you at the hotel.”

I had a million questions, yet all I wanted to do was get him naked. Knowing that’s how this would end allowed me to keep my hands to myself long enough to talk first. “I owe you an apology,” I said sincerely.
“You don’t owe me anything, Pest,” he said with a smile on his face. He pulled a coup. A big one. He made a dream of mine come true and I was completely blown away. Truth? He made all my dreams come true.
“Yes, I do. I accused you of pissing your money away. Unbeknownst to me, you started a school. In my name, Chevy. I know what that type of investment runs, which is why I took Franklin’s advice to wait because…” That’s when a light went off. “He knows doesn’t he?”
“Come here,” he said and opened his arms.
“In a minute,” I said, holding a hand up. “Chevy, you’re spending all your money.”
“It’s just money,” he shrugged. “What the fuck do I need? Other than you, not a whole lot. Not gonna ask again, Pest. Come here.”
Once I was in his arms, I wrapped myself around him and said, “Thank you for this and for giving Wanda a heads up about me so I wouldn’t freak out with the kids. Shit, Chevy, thank you isn’t enough, it doesn’t even come close to covering it.”
“I didn’t say a word to Wanda,” he whispered. “What happened today was all you.”
“Nuh uh,” I wheezed out.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and when I did I see the truth of his words. “It was all you.”
“I did it,” I whimpered. “I really did it?”
“Sure fucking did,” he said, backing me into a corner. Lifting me up underneath my arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and started to blink rapidly.
“Shit, you gonna cry now?”
“Uh huh,” I choked out. “Yep.”
And then I started to bawl. Full body-racking, chest-heaving, snot-producing bawling. Wiping my cheeks with his thumbs, he leaned in and said, “You’re right, Pest, thank you isn’t enough.”
“I told you,” I cried into his chest.
“Only way to make us square,” he said, carrying me to the bed. “Payment. It’s the only way you’ll ever be okay with this. So I’m gonna need a blow job with ball play.”
Throwing my head back, I laughed harder than I had in years. When I came down from it, Chevy was giving me his trademark cocky smirk and asked, “You wanna pay up now, or do you wanna wait until you can breathe through your nose again?”
Unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper, he watched me free him into my waiting palm. Easing me back to my feet, he widened his stance and watched me with hungry eyes. “I can breathe though my mouth,” I said right as I sealed my lips around his cock and swallowed. Securing his hands in my hair, Chevy guided my head and moaned, “Take me deep, Pest, and I’ll do the breathing for both of us.”
Doing as I was told, I sucked him deep and hard. I got lost to the beauty of it until he gripped tighter and grunted, “The balls, Pest. Don’t forget the balls. You know how I like that.”
Using my fist to stroke him, I nestled my nose under his sac before giving him one long lick. Muttering, “She’s gonna fucking kill me,” Chevy took over the cock work so I could focus solely on his sac. Opening wide, I sucked one nut into my mouth, and when his knees locked, I used my tongue to twirl it around. “That’s it,” he praised. “Suck me, Pest.”
That’s another thing about him. He didn’t bother with nicknames because the way he said Pest sounded like baby, honey, and sweetheart all rolled into one. No one called me Pest but Chevy, and I never got tired of hearing it.
Cupping the other nut so it didn’t feel left out, I knew he was close to coming when he started thrusting. Working faster, going deeper he took his free hand and wrapped my hair tight around his fist. “Pest,” he growled. “Can I?”
“Mmhmm,” I moaned into his soft skin and sucking both nuts into my mouth with my nails deep in his ass, Chevy came all over my face. Spent and still trembling, he took his shirt off and used it to clean me off. Helping me to my feet, he kissed me hard and groaned, “That fucking mouth, Pest.”
“So we’re square now?” I grinned up at him lazily.
“When I said I’d take a blowy as payment, I didn’t specify how many it would take, now did I?”
“Annoying bastard,” I mumbled, but there was no anger behind it. I loved blowing Chevy, it was no hardship.
“What was that, smartass?” he asked tackling me to the mattress. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I need you to rest your jaw.”

It was rare she asked to go out.
It was even rarer when she stuck to seeing it through. Maybe visiting the kids had been a serious breakthrough for her? God, I fucking hoped it was.
I lost count on how many times we made plans only for her to bow out before reaching the door. Panic would seize her; she’d start making excuses for staying in. And that was only if she had the ability to speak.
That was when my frustration would hit the red zone.
Until recent events, I will admit that I did not fully understand what she was dealing with. In truth, I had not a clue and that’s because I made it about me.
What I wasn’t getting what I had to sacrifice for her. Never once did I stop to consider what it cost her, what sacrifices she had made. Watching her sing in the theatre drove it home, but seeing Tiffany made it click. She hadn’t been exaggerating, and God’s fucking honest, knowing what I know now, it’s a fucking miracle she makes it out on stage at all.
But she does, every fucking time, without fail.
And for a year, with a broken heart, after losing our son, and her anxiety nearly crippling her she still fucking did it. Yet, somehow, she was able to spend hours in a room full of teenagers without so much as a hand wring.
I wanted to believe that if she put her mind to it, Pest could control her anxiety. Hell, she was doing it without meds now. With a little more time, who knows? Maybe she could beat it back once and for all. Even though I wanted to believe she could do it alone, I also knew my presence played a part. Likely the largest part and it pleased and terrified me. Because it was a big responsibility.
My responsibility.
She was in the hall waiting for me to grab my wallet and keys. Taking her hand, she looked down and said, “I’m okay, you don’t have to hold it. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”
How badly I’d hurt her.
“I wanna hold your hand, Pest.” It’s true, I did. Tempest thought she was a burden to me, and yes, at times I treated her that way, but I always loved holding her hand. The connection grounded her as much as it did me, and in truth, I needed it more than she did.
“Why?” she asked confused. “I’m super calm right now, I know it bothers—”
Yanking her to me, I kiss her hard. When she opens her eyes I tell her, “I wanna hold your fucking hand, Pest. You good with that?”
“Uh huh.”
Hitting the garage, I settled her on the bike and ask her where we’re going. “Your call,” she said, tightening her helmet. “I go where you go.”
Thrown by this, I climbed on and started it up. Years ago, before her anxiety started ruling her life, her answer was always your call. I’ve on
ly been back a short time and already the old Tempest was surfacing.
Regret washed over me for all the years I wasted riding her about her issues, getting frustrated, even pissed at her ‘weakness’. Part of me wondered if my reaction triggered hers. That knowing how easily it set me off, she tried making my life easier by staying inside. Killing the engine, I hiked my leg over and undid her helmet.
“Tell me the truth,” I said, cupping her cheek.
“Okay.”
“Did you choose to stay inside to make life easier for me?” When tears filled her eyes my initial reaction was anger. Not at her, but at myself. “I need the truth, Pest.”
“Sometimes,” she tried looking away. “When we started touring, I tried not to do it so much but… I knew how much I frustrated you, especially in public. I didn’t like you mad at me, and it sort of became a habit.”
“Why am I just figuring this out now?” I asked the concrete ceiling.
“I didn’t figure it out until you came back,” she said softly. “If that makes you feel any better.”
“We lost a year, Pest.”
“Yeah.”
“I fucked up.”
“I did too, Chevy.”
“I shoulda took better care of you,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I shoulda paid attention to the things you didn’t say.”
“I should have been brave enough to say them.”
“You’re the bravest person I know, Pest.”
“Only when you’re around.”
“Good thing I’m not leaving then.” Biting her lip, she looked down at her lap. Tilting her chin up I said it again, “I’m not leaving you, Pest.”
“I want you to have a life,” she whispered. “We’ve only ever had each other. You deserve to find someone who isn’t afraid of the world. That doesn’t rely on you like I do. I want you to find her, Chevy. I want you to have that.”
“I’m looking at her,” I told her. “She’s the only one I see.”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she pleaded.
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