“This is wrong,” he mumbled against my lips.
Lola had pinned all of my curls into an up-do on my head, but Rhett seemed to prefer my hair down. With our tongues still tangled together, he released my curls then shook them loose with his calloused fingers. I moaned into his mouth.
“We should stop,” I said, holding him tighter against me. I wanted to take this so much further.
“We will,” he replied, mimicking my earlier answer.
I was leaning against the counter with only a very thin piece of silk wrapped around my body and nipples that were begging for attention. Rhett kept his hands above my shoulders even though there was no way he could miss it. I felt a certain kind of comfort in that. He made me feel safe and wanted. It was a want on a level I hadn't known existed. He could’ve had all of me right then if he made a move, but he didn't. He just wanted to kiss me. I couldn't even remember if I had ever kissed a man this long without someone’s clothes coming off.
Damn, that just made me want to take my clothes off even more.
Just as I moved my hands down his bare chest and around to his back, a throat cleared. My stomach dove at the sound because it wasn't a small feminine sound. It was my faux-Australian yet still very real boyfriend standing casually against the doorframe that had made the noise. His posture was calm and relaxed, as if he were just waiting to use the bathroom when we were done.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
We clearly should have stopped. Somewhere my conscious was saying we never should have started, but I couldn’t bring myself to go there. I know… I know… I was going to hell.
Rhett had jolted at the sound of Noah's arrival, and he quickly turned in front of me and faced him. "Shit, man…" Rhett grasped his chest as if he were trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.
“I’m sorry, mate, were you two not finished? Do you need a smidge bit more time?” he calmly asked, checking his watch like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Dude—” Rhett started. He sounded as if he were about to apologize.
“I’d like to have a chat with my girlfriend," Noah interrupted. "If you don't mind..."
Rhett turned to look at me, and I could tell he wanted to know if I was okay. I honestly had no idea. My boyfriend of almost a year had just walked in on me making out with my newest band member. I had done some pretty shitty things in my life, but cheating wasn't one of them.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. I deserved any wrath I was about to receive.
His warm hand ran along my arm, and he gave it a little squeeze before he nodded his head. "You know where to find me," he whispered before he backed away. With one last look, he disappeared through the door.
Then I was left alone with my boyfriend. A man I had spent many nights and some days with. Almost a year's worth. And yet, as I looked at him, I had no idea who he was. I couldn't even begin to guess what he was thinking. I was just in the hottest lip-lock of my life with another man, and he stood there with a smirk on his face. Was he about to explode? Was this the calm before the storm? I had no earthly idea. Had I ever seen him get jealous before? I couldn’t recall a time when he had. How did I have no idea how my boyfriend would react to a scene like that?
“Noah, I’m so sorry—”
"Babe?" His Aussie inflection obnoxiously slid over the term of endearment. The sad part was that I loved accents. If Noah had been Australian-born, I would probably be drooling over that voice. But it wasn't real. He was only playing a character, and I never knew whom I was talking to.
I looked up at him while twisting my fingers together nervously.
He smiled, and I cocked my head in confusion.
"I used to think you were so perfect. You would never do anything wrong. Yeah, the tabloids liked to taunt you about getting naked on rooftops, experimenting with drugs, having sex in bathrooms at awards shows…” He shrugged as if he were referring to small acts of rebellion. “But, deep down I believed you were an angel. You were so above me.”
I opened my mouth to say… I didn’t know what, but he put up his finger to halt me. “But now I’m glad to see we’re not so different, you and I. You make mistakes too.”
“What do you mean, too? What kind of mistakes have you made?” I asked.
“That's beside the point, babe.” He waved me off. “We can move past both of our mistakes. People get distracted, and we lose sight of what we have. This situation has brought to light what I want.” He spoke to me as if I were a business associate.
“And what’s that?” Because now I was thoroughly confused and a little pissed off at his deliberate brush-off of the situation.
"You. You're the love of my life." My eyes bugged out at his words. "We've said those words to each other, haven't we?" He sounded so blasé. "Sure we have," he continued without my answer.
We hadn’t. Not once had we ever said the ‘L' word to each other. Our relationship had never felt like that to me… and didn’t that just open my eyes. Why was I in this relationship?
“If you have to ask,” I said, raising my voice over the sound of the buzzing phone in his pocket, “if we’ve said those words to one another, wouldn’t that answer your own question?” In response, he pulled out his phone. “And just so you know, we haven’t said that to each other.”
He was already typing on his phone. “What’s that, babe?” He didn’t even look up.
“L-l-love… we’ve never said that.” I could barely say it now.
"Huh…" He finally gave me more attention than his phone. "I could have sworn we had." With a shrug, he said, "Well, now you know."
“Noah!!” I shouted. “Do you hear yourself right now? We’re having an argument, a pretty serious one in my opinion, and you’re totally blowing me off!”
He pocketed his phone and sighed. “Ever… I don’t really have time to get into this right now.”
“Don’t have time? Or just don’t want to?” I argued.
“Both?” he questioned with a small grin. When I didn’t smile back, his large shoulders slumped. “Look… let’s just forget all of this has happened. We’ll both be better at this. We’re not perfect, and I understand mistakes happen. No more kissing the homeless kid and—”
“He’s not homeless,” I rushed to say.
He tsked his tongue at me. "It doesn't matter, now does it?" he said with a patronizing tone. "You have an Oscar-winning boyfriend. And after this next awards season, I’ll be able to say two-time winner," he smugly stated. "That means something in this industry, and you know it."
“Noah, I just… cheated on you.” I cringed saying it, even though it was the truth. “I don’t think it’s something we can just forget about.”
“Why not?” he asked. “I promise I won’t ever hold it against you in the future. I can move past it.”
“But, what if I can’t?” My voice was small and I despised that.
“It kind of sounds like you’re trying to break up with me,” Noah pointed out with an almost disbelieving laugh. I kept quiet and continued to look at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. When he dropped his hand and opened his eyes, I knew that was the extent of his emotions he would show me. “Ever, think this through...”
“I’m pretty sure I have,” I responded.
“No. Pretty sure is not acceptable. And I seriously have to go. I wish I had more time to do this right now, but I can’t cancel this meeting. Take some time to think. Really think this through.”
It was my turn to sigh now. “Noah, I really don’t want to drag this out.” He straightened his tie in the mirror, and I knew he was more concerned with walking out the door on time than he was resolving things with me.
“No one’s dragging this out. If you want to break up to punish yourself for kissing him, don’t. You kissed someone, so what?”
My eyes bugged. “Kissing someone else is a big deal when you’re in a relationship!”
“Of course it
is.” He pulled me in and mashed his lips against mine briefly. "Love ya, babe. I'll see you tonight and we can figure this all out." As Noah walked past me, he turned back and lifted my chin with a finger. "You know I think you're the most beautiful woman on this planet, right? I need a beautiful woman on my arm."
Oh no he didn’t….
“There are a million beautiful woman in the world. I can’t be that woman for you anymore. I’m not that kind of girl, and I hate that you’re being so indifferent about all of this.”
Noah’s phone rang in his pocket and he silenced it. His jaw clenched in a way that I knew meant he was frustrated. I knew his meeting was important, but I was important too.
“Noah, what did you mean when you said you’ve made mistakes too?”
“Ever, now is not the time,” his voice rose infinitesimally.
“I told you I’m sorry I kissed Rhett—” I started.
“And I told you I forgive you, babe.”
“Now tell me what mistakes you’ve made.” He kept quiet and silenced another phone call. My nerves were already on edge and that damn phone would set me off any minute. “When did you become like this? When did you become so… aloof and callous?”
“I haven’t changed. This is who I’ve always been.”
I stared at him, hoping that weren’t true. I hadn’t always been with this man. Surely he used to take my feelings into account. He hadn’t always been so self-centered, right? I knew my friends hated him. I had seen the way he acted toward them, but had he always been like this toward me? I couldn’t say for sure, and I hated myself for staying in a relationship like this. Where was my self-respect? Had I let this industry drag me in so deeply that I lost all sense of dignity? I detested the answer but knew it all the same—yes, I had.
“Noah, I can’t do this anymore.”
“We can discuss this tonight,” he replied, tapping on his phone.
“Will it matter? My answer will be the same.” I felt defeated.
“It does matter because I’m sure I can convince you otherwise. You’re going through a weird time right now. A lot of changes. I don’t want to be one of those changes.”
I squeezed my fists together and loosened them to release some of my pent-up frustration. “Those changes are waking me up. They are driving me to realize what I have let my life become. I’ve lost myself. I think I deserve to find what can truly make me happy.”
“Anything that truly makes you happy will be destroyed by our lifestyle.” Leave it to Noah… always the cynical one.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”
Just then, Noah’s assistant Ruby barged into the bathroom looking like her usual frazzled self. “Mr. Reynolds,” she huffed. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve tried to call you a dozen times. We’re already ten minutes late for the meeting with the studio. Please, we have to go.”
Noah reached out for me and I stepped back. He sighed and dropped his hand. “Babe, we’ll talk tonight.” He gestured for Ruby to walk back out.
“I’ve made up my mind, Noah, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head in the doorway. “I haven’t.” Then I watched his retreating backside with my mouth hanging open.
Did we just break up or not? I hated that we couldn’t get the time we needed to talk this through. I wanted to be able to explain my feelings. I wanted him to be honest with me. I wanted him to know that this relationship wasn’t healthy for me anymore. I didn’t even know that it ever had been. Especially hearing him say that he needed a beautiful girl like me on his arm. I sure as hell was not anyone’s arm candy.
I shook off all of my swirling thoughts and decided that I had other things I needed to focus on until Noah managed to squeeze in time for me. My band and I had an album to make—an album we needed to make quickly, or we were going to lose the right to pen our own songs. Just the thought of singing someone else's words again made me sick. I couldn't go back to that, not ever again.
I decided to finish my own makeup when Lola was still MIA. Then I found Rhett and told him we had things to get done. He tried to question what had happened, but I waved him off. I didn't want to deal with my personal life right then. I wanted to make music.
No, I needed to. Too many emotions weighing me down, and I knew there couldn't be any better therapy than sitting across from Rhett with his guitar as we created what I knew would be my band’s best album yet.
— THIRTEEN —
For the rest of the afternoon, Rhett and I sat facing one another with our guitars across our laps in his Greenwich Village apartment. We’d decided going to the studio was unnecessary when we were still in the writing stage. Notebook paper littered the bedspread, each page covered with handwriting—both his and mine.
I strummed a chord. It wasn't great, but each time I attempted it the pitch sounded a little bit better. I hadn’t realized the euphoria I would feel singing my heart out and playing an instrument at the same time. I could sit here all day and play this tune with him.
We’d been writing a new song I dubbed “Bemused, Baby.” The lyrics had tumbled out, and though it was pretty obvious the song was about my confusing situation with Noah, Rhett never questioned it. I had never been more thankful. I needed to get the words out of my head, and he understood that feeling more than anyone else would.
He started to play the second verse with a vengeance, punishing the strings with his skillful fingers. I could only imagine how great it would sound accompanied by Nixon’s bass and Jared’s drums.
Rhett’s singing provided backup to my lead, and our voices meshed together flawlessly as if we had sung together all our lives. In that moment, I couldn't even remember what it was like to sing without him. The only thing missing was an audience because that kind of magic deserved to be shared.
I let Rhett finish out the rest so I could give my fingers a break. It had been so long since I’d made a serious attempt to play the guitar. It would take a while for me to build up the strength and the calluses that prevented his fingers from being sore.
“Oh my God…” I smiled ear to ear. “How can it possibly get better each time?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you could play?” He grinned while placing his guitar on its stand.
I stood up and playfully posed with one leg on the bed, leaning over the guitar. “Makes me a whole lot hotter now, doesn’t it?” I tried to accentuate my curves and raspy voice.
He looked up at me through his gorgeous eyelashes and gruffly replied, “Don’t tease me.”
I quickly pulled my leg back and plopped down on the bed next to him. With a whoosh of breath, I said, "I didn't… I wasn't… trying to do that." The last thing I ever wanted was to be cruel to him. I knew his feelings, and we still hadn't spoken about the kiss—or rather, kisses—we shared.
Rhett sat next to me silently, looking down at his hands in his lap. I turned toward him but then quickly realized how close we were when he looked up and our faces were mere inches apart. He was so tempting. It was torture to hold myself back from pushing him down and crawling on top of his enticing body. I wanted to hover over him and look down into his wide, surprised eyes. He wouldn’t expect anything like that from me.
I could feel the chemistry between us like electricity that buzzed loudly anytime we were near one another. I had to occupy my lips before they catapulted themselves onto his. I couldn’t do that, but a part of me still wanted him to desire me. I decided to do what I knew I could do best. I sang. More specifically, I sang the first song we wrote together. The one we had decided to call “No Empathy.”
He must have deciphered my intentions because he groaned, "Don't do this to me." He liked my voice, and I loved the things it did to him. "Why do you enjoy driving me crazy?" he whispered.
I looked up at him. His long lashes framed his eyes as he stared down at me. “To be honest, I don’t know. It excites me, I guess,” I answered truthfully.
“It does a whole he
ll of a lot more than that to me.” He paused and then took a deep breath before speaking again. “So you finally broke it off with that douchebag actor and then you and I hook up. Then what?”
I cringed a little bit at the term “hook up,” because when I thought about Rhett and I together, a “hook-up” sounded so trivial. But honestly, could it be anything more?
“Well, we enjoy it…” I responded.
“So that’s what you want? Just sex?” he asked. I stared at him with my mouth open. Was he questioning why I wanted to have sex with him? Did guys do that? I thought they acted first, thought later. "I like you, Ever."
My brow furrowed. Then I finally realized what he was saying. A breath rushed in through my lungs and back out of my mouth as I leaned away from him a little bit.
“It would never work out,” I said, moving to lie on my back. “We couldn’t actually be… a couple.”
He grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap then roughly ran his fingers through his hair. Lying down next to me, he gruffly said, "Can I ask why not?"
We both looked up at the ceiling as I thought about Noah’s earlier words. “Anything that truly makes you happy will be destroyed by our lifestyle.” I turned to look at Rhett and said, "We're in a band together now. It never works out… too much can happen.” I sighed. “Look at ABBA. They were all married. Divorced. Then the band broke up.”
“That’s a horrible example. I could name twenty bands with couples in them. Arcade Fire. Rilo Kiley. No Doubt and The White Stripes were even able to keep the band together after their breakup.”
“Uh, neither of those bands are together anymore…”
“Not because of their past relationships though.”
“You have no idea if that’s true.” I squeezed my fists together. “Look, if we go down in a dirty breakup, it affects the group… the music. Which, in turn, affects everyone's livelihood that works for me. I'm responsible for numerous paychecks. These people have families. This life is…"
Ever Lonely (Ever James Band Book 1) Page 18