by Lizzie Fox
“Fuck you, you mother-fuck—”
“Sorry, sorry! Really. Okay man, enjoy yourself. Let me know how things go, all right?”
“You got it. Maybe.”
“You better, ya douche. See ya soon.”
I grinned with self-satisfaction hanging up the phone. Exactly the reaction I was hoping to get out of him aside from the threats and dirty talk about getting her in bed. “Almost noon…” I said to myself, checking the phone’s display. My stomach rumbled and reminded me that I hadn’t yet eaten, and for me, that was not good. Emerging from the room, I headed downstairs to the kitchen, hoping that I still had some leftovers from last night in the fridge. But I stopped short just before entering.
Jessie was leaning over the counter wearing sneakers, a pink shirt, and a pair of extremely short, tight black shorts; one side was hiked up just enough to give the hint of one of her round ass cheeks peeking out. Uhhh… did she not notice that? Hell, I wasn’t going to complain over the view. Her hair was draped over to one shoulder, and she was listening to something on a pair of earbuds and had no idea I was even here. I could tell, because she seemed to be shaking her hips to the beat of whatever song she was listening to carelessly.
I choked down a huge lump in my throat and my dick once again began to twitch. My mind wandered as I suddenly pictured her in the audience of one of our gigs, shaking and swaying to the music. My music. It’d be the hottest thing ever, I wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to perform.
Not wanting to startle her, I carefully walked up to her side, and pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing her throat and face. She grinned slyly when I pressed a kiss to her cheek. She yanked out her earbuds and turned into me, sliding her arms around my waist, and leaning her head against my chest. She smelled so inviting, a combination of something distinctly floral and yet totally comforting. I curled myself around her, bringing her into my arms tighter and something…strange tugged and tightened my chest. Anxiety? No…
Jessie tilted her head up gently to gaze at me. A blush spread across her cheeks and a light smile twitched the corners of her lips. Her jade eyes widened slightly, and searched my face.
“What?” I asked, finally.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Mmm…sure,” I said, with a smirk. By the intensity of her stare, and the way her body was brushed up against mine, I was thinking she’s about to say something naughty, and I was all for it.
Her lips pursed and she glanced away momentarily. When her gaze returned, her eyes were shimmering with impending tears. “Jessie…” I said gently, setting my hand on her cheek to brush them away if they fell.
“I’m okay. Just…overwhelmed. Okay, here it is.” She took in a deep breath. “Did you know that every night since I met Blake, even after he died, and even after I was married to Adam, I thought about him every night before I went to sleep. And he was the first thought on my mind when I’d wake up. Until…”
“Until what?” I asked, briefly confused, until my body nervously heated, anticipating what she would say.
“Until yesterday morning.”
“And… what did you think of instead?” I asked, tentatively hopeful.
“You.” She eyed me shyly before glancing away.
I sucked in a sharp breath, her declaration hitting me straight in the heart.
Trembling, I crooked a finger under her chin and before I could chicken out, my mouth found hers and I kissed her. Not hard, not rough, but softly, carefully she parted her lips and allowed me in and I swept my tongue over hers until she breathed out a gentle moan. Oh fuck I’m about to lose it and all we’re doing is kissing…
I firmly gripped her shoulders and pulled away with every last ounce of resistance I had in me. “Keep that up and I won’t last until tonight.”
She smirked. “Why do you have to?”
“Because I said I would.” Why am I doing this again? Changing the subject, I apprised her attire. “Is that what you’re wearing out?”
She glanced down at herself and scowled. “Ah, no. I just was doing some yoga in my room.”
“Yoga?” Yes try not to picture her in any of about a dozen positions, and…
“Yeah, Adam sort of guilted me into staying thin. You know, proper wives don’t get fat. Well…” she snorted derisively. “Thinner.”
“He guilted you into that? What an ass.”
She shrugged. “Yeah he really was. But it turns out I like it, so… after I dried my hair and stuff I decided to give it about fifteen minutes. I came down here to get water and must have lost track of time.”
“So you’re kind of flexible then?” I bit my lip ring between my teeth, hard—hard enough to stop the ache in my stupid jeans.
“Eh, a bit maybe. Nothing like, sticking my legs over my head or anything.” She frowned. “Well so what are we up to? So I know how to dress?”
I shrugged. “Movie? Dinner? You said you like to keep it simple, so—”
“Sounds good.” She beamed at me and started upstairs. “I just need about thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” I folded my arms over my chest and watched her walk up the stairs with great interest, her hips swaying with every step with a tantalizing swagger.
Please let this day work out… I wasn’t sure how much else I could take.
20
Jessalie
Seth had encouraged me to ride behind him on his motorcycle all the way to Eau Claire, and as much as the idea sounded nice, being wrapped up and pressed against him, I preferred that he drive us in his truck. It was a little more intimate—and a little quieter—than having to shout over the noisy engine. Conversation was kept casual along the fifteen-minute drive it took to get there, keeping to things like music and dumb things we did in high school.
The slight age difference still weighed on me…in the beginning. After a while that started fading away. We had much in common from the fact that we had a hard time in school, even though we were both probably pretty smart. We both did well in English, we were both into music classes although unlike Seth, I couldn’t play any instruments. I was all voice—but that was a long time ago. Any talent I had was long gone. He was actually surprised to learn that, at one time, I was a soloist and did well in state competitions but no matter how he urged, I wouldn’t sing for him. That was a life time ago. I preferred to listen now because I was too terrified to do otherwise.
Eau Claire was a decent sized city, lots of shops and residential areas; this was the first time I’d ever been there before. He pulled into what looked like a fairly quiet, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant that seemed pretty authentic—but what did I know? I was mostly German and Scandinavian. I gave Seth a sidelong glance before we got out of the vehicle.
“Are you Italian?” Something about his hair and intensity told me yes, he probably was.
He shrugged. “Probably. If I am it’s on my dad’s side. Apparently I’m the spitting image of him,” he said, sounding somewhat bitter. I winced because I’d obviously struck a nerve and I didn’t mean to.
“Archer doesn’t sound very Italian…” I mused thoughtfully.
“It’s my mother’s name. Of the two of them, she’s the least awful.” He glowered a moment before fixing his face into a bright, sexy smile. “Shall we?”
Before I could respond, he was already out of the car, and with his long legs he was at my door just as I was opening it. Cocking a playful brow at him as he pulled it the rest of the way open, held out a hand, and smiled at me coyly. I placed my hand in his and he wrapped his tattooed fingers around mine and helped me out of the truck. Not a huge jump, but I was wearing precarious shoes—heeled sandals to give me a bit of height to meet his six-one (and a half!). “I hope this is okay?”
I laughed gently, his attractive face was pleading, and eager. I honestly couldn’t see how any woman could resist him. Or maybe that was just me. His torn and faded casual rocker clothes were delectable, of course, but he’d actually
cleaned it up a bit in black jeans, a charcoal gray tank under a green, white, and black checked camp shirt, with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, still exposing quite a bit of his ink. A mix of a little preppy, and a little rocker—perfectly him. He’d switched out the ring in his lip from silver to black and I’d be damned if it wasn’t stupidly hot and totally distracting. I didn’t know why, really, I never cared for piercings before. Any excuse I had to pay attention to his mouth was good enough for me.
Off and on, this man had been on my mind for over a year now. It should have been overwhelming, but for some reason, the thoughts comforted me instead. There was just something magnetic about Seth Archer.
I wasn’t the only person who noticed it either, when we entered the dimly lit Italian restaurant. The hostess who couldn’t have been more than about twenty-one at the most grinned widely immediately the second she set eyes on him, not even paying attention to me.
“Wait. I know you. Are you—?” she said, shaking a thoughtful finger at him.
I smirked at him as he blushed gently, and she figured it out.
“You’re from that band. I just saw you guys a couple nights ago. Night Addiction, right? Holy crap I love you guys!” she exclaimed, in hushed tones.
“That’s nice, thank you,” Seth replied, totally bashful with the praise. When the hostess seemed stymied with words, he cleared his throat, flashing me an embarrassed look. “Um, can we get a booth please?” he finally asked carefully, hoping to bring her out of her stupor.
“Oh right, sorry.” Quickly she grabbed us two menus and led us through the lobby to a table in the back corner. She instructed us that our server would be with us soon and paused before leaving like she wanted to say more. But, after glancing at me hesitantly, she seemed to think the better of it, and walked away.
Seth lifted up his menu and buried his face in it, blowing out a tense breath as I snickered at him.
“God I hate that,” he said, shaking his head.
I reached over and pulled down the menu he held in front of him, blocking the view. “You hate being admired by pretty girls?”
“I prefer being admired by pretty women, thank you,” he said, raking his top teeth over his piercing, his expression playful as he regarded me.
Rolling my eyes, I snorted. “Right, because there’s a difference.”
“There is. Trust me.”
We were interrupted by the sound of his phone beeping, and he pulled it out of his back pocket, frowning immediately.
“What?” I asked expectantly.
“Eh, nothing big. Just the place we normally practice at is closed for a while. Some sort of fire scare or… something.” Seth grimaced in dismay. “We’ll have to fit in Ian’s tiny studio until its fixed.”
“You don’t have anywhere else to go?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. The studio is soundproof—basically. It’s fine for recording but anything else… not so much. And at Anthony or Quin’s the neighbors complain. They’re just too residential. But we gotta practice; gig this weekend.”
I shrugged indifferently. “You can use my place. The garage is pretty big and if you open the windows it’s pretty airy, I think. And the nearest neighbor, besides the ducks in the lake, are about what? A block away? Or use the inside of the house, I don’t care. It’s big enough.”
Seth glanced up from his phone, raising his pierced brow at me. “Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. I have a big space, you need a big space. I don’t mind,” I insisted.
He started to grin. “You have no idea what a lifesaver you are right now.” He shook his phone at me, giving me an appreciative look before tapping in a message on the phone to—whoever. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Really? I mean the guys, their wives—including Shane—” I chortled at that, “—and maybe their kids. Hopefully not because we have a gig this weekend and they get too distracting.”
“I told you I didn’t mind. I don’t know what I’m doing with all that space, anyway,” I said, shaking my head. “Seriously, what was I thinking? Four bedrooms, full basement… seriously. Please, by all means—let me get my money’s worth. Use it,” I finished with a laugh.
Something impish washed over his face. “Maybe you were anticipating filling it up later.”
“Like…with what? Dogs?”
Seth laughed gently, going back to his menu. “I’m not sure what I mean. Perhaps just a band full of misfits that need a home?”
“Right.”
The server interrupted us, thankfully not of the female persuasion, but in the form of a gentleman around forty or so. And had little interest in either of us, besides taking our orders. After a few moment’s deliberation, I chose the fettuccine and a salad, and Seth chose the lasagna.
“Anything to drink? Wine, beer?” The waiter asked, and Seth immediately declined, but I hesitated. My nerves suddenly were getting the better of me, and while it was probably a bad idea…
“Don’t decline on my account. Driving. I really don’t mind,” Seth insisted, and against my better judgment, I picked a Chardonnay before the server walked off to put in our order and get our drinks.
“I really don’t normally drink.” Anymore… I wanted to add but didn’t. I had had a poor history with alcohol in the past, but that was then. I was totally fine with it now as far as anyone was concerned.
“Nor do I. Can’t so much with the meds,” he said, thoughtfully silent for a few beats before he spoke next. “You know, I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer than just a couple of weeks.”
“I feel the same way,” I agreed. “There was that time, though, a year ago.”
“There was that indeed,” he said, with a grin. “It occurred to me, though, that I don’t know some simple things about you. Like… when is your birthday?” He questioned.
“January. What about you?”
“August.”
“Coming up soon then, huh?”
He nodded with a light scowl. “Yeah, I don’t really do anything for it though.”
“Me either.” The tone turned momentarily somber, before he asked,
“What about favorite color?” He chuckled as we both said in unison, “Green.” After our vehicles, of course.
“Did you always want to be a writer?”
“Pretty much,” I answered. “I probably would have been better at it had I not…well you saw Shane’s reaction.”
“Hey, you can write something again; it’s not too late,” Seth insisted earnestly.
“You’re right, it’s not. I just hope something comes to me,” I replied with a sigh.
“It will,” he said confidently.
“I don’t think publishers will be willing to sign me after my last book disaster. I don’t even think most brick and mortar stores even carried them they did so poorly,” I grumbled gently.
“So, you do it independently; that’s what we do. Takes a bit of work but… we do okay with it,” Seth said.
“Maybe. When did you get into music?” I asked.
“I don’t really remember. I guess I just always have been. My dad used to play before he went off the deep end. I think I was like…five?” He said thoughtfully. “As I got older and more… fucked up… it was sometimes about the only thing that grounded me.”
“I did the same thing as well, I think,” I replied, turning sullen. “Well you know that.”
“But you sang in school? And by the way, I will get you to sing eventually,” Seth said with a smug grin, just as the server came and set down our drinks; the wine for me, and a Coke for him.
Scoffing, I took a quick sip of the wine, the partially bitter, partially sweet taste warming my throat and flushing my skin gently on the way down. “No, you won’t. That was a long time ago,” I said, with a chuckle. He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Is that a challenge?”
“Take it for what you want. Listening is better,” I said, beaming up at him while he blushed.
“Unh-uh. We
’ve been looking for a female background vocalist. You’re not getting out of this so easily,” he said, with a laugh. “Just wait until Ian gets a hold of you. He’s very persuasive.”
I snorted. “Maybe drunk enough, I could. But I’ll sound like a mutant, trust me.”
“I doubt it.” The food arrived then, and Seth ceased arguing. After promptly diving in and taking a couple bites of his dish he looked up at me with hesitation.
“So, while we’re on the subject of careers, what would you most want to do if not a writer?” Seth inquired.
I exhaled forcibly. “I…never even fathomed it. It was just always what I wanted to do. Besides being a mother, I never wanted anything else.”
Seth seemed to bristle at that, and I eyed him curiously. “Okay what is—that? You just got all…weird.”
He set his fork down on the plate with a quiet clink, took a thoughtful sip of his drink, and basically just avoided my inquisitive stare. “Honestly? The idea of kids kind of… scares me.”
“Oh.” I hesitated to swallow, and took a long, long sip of my wine, and I watched as he shifted uneasily in his seat.
“If… you wanted that so bad, then, what happened? Your ex not want any?” He asked carefully, and now I bristled.
“Ah…no. We tried. We just… couldn’t,” I admitted quietly.
“Oh fuck…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—” he started quickly, but I waved him off.
“No, it’s okay. It worked out for the better, generally. Except I’m getting to be kind of old… so…” Sighing heavily, I tried not to reveal my true, pained feelings about not ever having kids, and of losing the one chance I had thirteen years ago.
“That’s not true, you still have plenty of time,” Seth protested.
I laughed dryly. “Says the person with an unlimited supply of…ummm…” I blushed profusely. “So, you never thought about it?”
“I don’t know. No. Yes. Maybe? Given everything that happened in my family…my father being a raging asshole, my mother being an addict to everything, and well…me. I sort of figured our gene pool should die off with me,” Seth replied, with a bitter frown.