by Jade Allen
“Remember,” Olivia said, between panting gasps for breath. “You’re not leaving or I tell everyone…you’re…tiny.” I chuckled and wrapped my arms around her lazily, sliding out of her body and sinking onto the bed next to her.
“I’m not leaving,” I told her, struggling to catch my breath. “I am staying right here and as soon as I catch my breath I’m fucking you again. And again. Until neither of us can stay awake anymore.”
CHAPTER SIX
I woke up with the light streaming in my face, burning through my eyelids; the first thing I noticed—as soon as I gave up on trying to burrow into the pillows and blankets on Olivia’s bed—was that I was in it alone. I couldn’t hear a single sound in the apartment, no matter how I strained my ears. You’ve got to be shitting me. She goes on about me sneaking out on her in the morning… I had to grin to myself. If Olivia had sneaked out of her own apartment, leaving me by my lonesome, I had to at least give her points for turning my usual trick around on me.
I managed to find my clothes scattered around, and get them on, wondering to myself if this was some kind of test; was Olivia looking for me to stay, and prove that I wouldn’t abandon her? Or was I supposed to leave? I found my phone, and saw that I had more than a few texts on it from the guys in the band. Nothing from Olivia saying anything one way or another. I told Mark and Alex that I was okay, told Dan that I’d managed to pull it off with Olivia after all, and texted Jules that I’d be able to make it to rehearsal—in that order. I looked around the apartment, trying to decide how to go about going home to my own place. If Olivia was looking for me to stay—if she’d stranded me by not letting me know she was leaving—then I had to decide if it would be better for me to disappear without any notice, or stick around and see if she came back.
She is not the kind of girl you want to just hook up with and then ghost out, I thought, shuddering at the memory of what Olivia had felt like, the sound of her moans, the way she’d tasted and smelled—everything about her. I wanted more. If she hadn’t run out on me before I woke up, I was sure that I would have convinced her to have a little morning delight, as Jules called it sometimes. A little quickie, something to leave her with a memory. I definitely wanted to see more of Olivia—that much I knew. I wanted to see her as much as possible. I wasn’t sure if I wanted what Alex had exactly, but I couldn’t help but feel more than a little intrigued at the little flash of Olivia’s personality that I’d seen. Too bad we’re going on tour in a few weeks. I cringed at that; normally tour was great—a different girl in every city, no expectation from any of them that they’d “land” me or “tame” me or whatever it was girls tended to think. But it would definitely make it harder to make any kind of lasting connection with Olivia, or set up any kind of arrangement to see her regularly.
I wandered around her apartment a bit, looking at the show posters, at the different things scattered around. Her place definitely smelled better than mine; I’m not a messy guy, but I’m also not the kind of guy who buys candles or anything like that on a normal basis. Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t like walking in some kind of flower garden at Olivia’s place, but there was a kind of warm, clean smell to everything.
I decided that I might as well catch a ride from someone; Olivia either was out doing something and wouldn’t be home soon, or was going to be away from the apartment avoiding me all day. I found a note pad in her kitchen with a pen attached to it and decided to leave her a little note. Good job turning my own trick around on me! I waited a bit but decided that you probably made yourself scarce for good reason. I’ll be in touch, unless you tell me not to be. I signed it the way I signed all my autographs—it’d become ingrained habit—and left it where she’d see it as soon as she walked into the house.
I texted Mark and told him that I needed a ride, and started walking up the street. The kind of neighborhood where Olivia lived was exactly the kind to have a bunch of tiny, mom-and-pop restaurants and cafes nearby. I needed coffee yesterday; with any luck, I’d find a Cuban-run place and stuff myself with some papas rellenas and a couple of shots of café Cubano while I waited for Mark to get dressed and come get me.
A few blocks down from Olivia’s place I found exactly what I wanted: a tiny, run-down building with a whitewashed stucco exterior (stained along the sprinkler line), with a flickering neon sign saying it was open. I didn’t even pay attention to the name written in Spanish; I just walked in. The smell of slow-roasting pork and onions and garlic hit me hard enough to make my stomach almost cramp with hunger. The woman behind the counter understood at least enough English to take an order—thank God, since there were parts of Dade county where that wasn’t the case—and in a few minutes I had a big plate of greasy, fried things, and a few plastic shot glasses of syrupy, foamy, dark Cubano coffee in front of me on a rickety plastic table. I sent Mark a location ping and he said he’d be there in fifteen minutes; just enough time for me to scarf it all down. I’ll buy him some of those croquetas and a café con leche to thank him. He’ll never have to know I pigged out before he got here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time I made it to rehearsal that afternoon, I realized that I wasn’t going to stop thinking about Olivia any time soon. If she wanted to guarantee that I couldn’t just treat it like a one-night stand, she definitely picked the right strategy, I thought as I started plugging in and checking the levels on everything.
“You’re quiet, Nicky,” Alex said, exhaling a gust of cigarette smoke from the couch.
“He went with a girl who had already decided not to have sex with him,” Dan pointed out. “I think our Nicholas is coming down with something.”
“Yeah but he stayed the night, and from what he told me…” Mark smirked from the drum kit, where he was adjusting one of the hi-hats.
“Maybe Nick’s actually falling for someone,” Jules suggested, strumming a quick check of his guitar’s tune.
“I’m just tired, guys,” I said, rolling my eyes. “She had me up all night.”
“I didn’t think she was the type,” Mark said. “Seems like a one-and-done kind of girl.”
“Nah,” I said, grinning to myself. “I’m not even sure there’s an end to her. Once you get her started, I mean.”
“Nicky is falling for her,” Alex said, sitting up and staring at me. “You’re totally into her.”
“She’s fun,” I told him, shrugging again. “She’s smart. And fuck, man…” I shook my head, remembering the way that Olivia had felt, wrapped around me, the way she’d sounded, moaning out, the way her breath caught and she trembled when she got close to climax. “If she hadn’t skipped out before I woke up, I might not even be here. I’d be too busy making her scream my name.”
“She skipped out on you?” Dan made a face, his eyes wide with amazement. “No wonder she’s got him on the hook.”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s an enigma or whatever. Are we going to rehearse or not?” Alex jumped to his feet and strode towards the mic stand, and for a little while the subject of Olivia and my feelings about her was forgotten. We played through the new album from start to finish, stopping to change something that had worked in the studio but didn’t really come across “live,” or to change a solo here or there, or to jam out a bit. We took a break before we had to get into the older songs, to try and decide which ones we were going to keep on the set list.
I stepped outside the rehearsal space and got my phone out of my pocket, along with my cigarettes and lighter. I figured that hopefully by then, Olivia had managed to make it back to her place; it would be a decent time to text her. Hey—that was some disappearing act this morning. Everything okay? I felt like a fucking idiot when I sent it; something in the back of my head told me that the reason Olivia had left before I woke up was that she’d regretted going to bed with me in the first place. But why would that even be an issue? She’d had a good time—I was sure of it.
A few seconds later, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I flicked ash off the end of my cigarette and s
lipped my phone out to see if it was Olivia. It was. I had to go into the office. Editor wanted the interview ASAP, so I thought it’d be best to work from there. I rolled my eyes; it was a good excuse, but it felt like just that—an excuse.
I’d like to see you again. I mean…if you had a shitty time then I get it, I won’t bug you. But if you had a good time… God, I sounded like I was in high school again. I couldn’t think of a better way to say what I wanted to say; I sent it even though it sounded like some pathetic dude who never got laid.
I went back into the rehearsal space and threw myself into work, pushing Olivia to the back of my mind. My phone buzzed in my pocket at one point but I made myself ignore it; I wasn’t going to be like those chicks that stared at their phones waiting for an answer, fingers itchy to send another message. I’d just get around to it when there was another break. We started discussing which of the songs we wanted to be on the core set list—the songs we played every show—and which we’d keep on the secondary list to have something to change things up. The tour was going to be pretty long; it would drive us all crazy to play all the exact same songs every single night of it.
“Crack some beers,” Jules said when we’d all decided we’d had enough for the afternoon. We might do a little more practice in the evening, but Alex wanted to spend some time with Mary since he knew we’d be leaving on tour in a couple of weeks.
I threw myself onto the couch and opened my pack of cigarettes; I’d need to stop by the Circle K on the way home and get another—I was down to four. Mark handed me a beer on his way to the enormous beanbag chair on the other side of the couch, and I raised it in the air as I lit my cigarette and took the first drag of the smoke. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and finally—finally—checked my messages.
It’s not that I had a bad time or anything. I just…you have a reputation, Nick. You have to admit that about yourself. I like you and the sex was amazing but I’m not sure how much I want to trust you. I frowned at my screen and took a quick sip of my beer. For the first time in my life, the fact that I slept with women freely was truly biting me in the ass. Olivia wasn’t trying to get me to ‘change my ways’ or convince me that she was woman enough to keep me from wanting anyone else; she was actually pushing me away.
“Hey,” I said, holding my hand up to stop Alex before he left. “Didn’t Record Spin say they wanted to arrange a tour journal with us?” It had been something that Ron had brought up before Olivia had even interviewed us.
“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. He looked at me for a moment and then started grinning. “Oh man. You want to bring that girl on tour.”
“Nicky got bit, man,” Jules said from the beat-up wingback chair he’d thrown himself into. “He’s chasing that tail.”
“You guys liked working with her yesterday,” I pointed out. “She’s the best interviewer we’ve worked with the entire time we’ve been doing this shit. Why not Olivia?”
“Think about what you’re doing, man,” Dan said, looking up from his sketchbook. “If you really want to win her over, you’re going to have to be clean-nosed on tour. No flirting with anyone else, even.”
“I just think it’d be a good idea,” I said, shrugging. “If she doesn’t want to do it then they can send someone else out with us. But she’s the best option.”
“I’ll have Ron make the call,” Alex said, looking at me for a long moment. “If she’s up to do it, then yeah, she’s the best one we’ve dealt with so far. I wouldn’t mind having her around.”
“You have to let her work, though,” Mark said, giving me a little grin. “If you get her all distracted or keep her in your bunk all the time, all she’s going to get in some pictures that aren’t fit to print and an article about fucking guitarists.”
“I’m not going to interfere,” I insisted. “But it does give me a chance to flirt with her a bit and get to know her.” I grinned. “She thinks I’m just going to move on to the next bimbo that crosses my path.”
“Well that is what you would normally do,” Dan said, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah. This time I’m going to see what a steady lay is like. Get some routine in my life.” Mark snorted.
“She’s going to ditch the tour in a month—fifty dollars on that. Who’s in?” I rolled my eyes as the rest of the guys gave their estimates: Jules said Olivia would last two weeks, Dan said she’d last the whole tour but never speak to me again, and Alex put in for me to go the distance—six months, with the ‘relationship’ ending two months after the tour did. I refused to bet on it at all; I still didn’t know exactly how long-term I wanted things to be. I just wanted a chance to see where it went, and having Olivia on the bus would be a good way to do that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On a whim, I went back to Lost Weekend as soon as it opened up. People I’d seen there the day before had recognized Olivia; which told me that she went there often. Maybe I’d get lucky and run into her. I found a table and ordered myself a beer, looking at the early birds starting to filter in. I thought about the tactic I’d gotten Alex to help me with. Would Olivia be pissed at me interfering in her career? Or the fact that I was essentially putting her in a position where she had to choose to spend time around me to get ahead or avoid me and risk looking bad. It is kind of a dick move, I thought to myself, nursing a PBR. I didn’t want to get drunk before Olivia even showed up—if she was going to show up at all.
A few girls gave me looks, and I thought about what Dan had said. If I got Olivia on tour with us, I’d have to keep away from any other pretty faces or hot bodies I saw. That one looks like she’d be a lot of fun. Lots of moaning; probably loves to take it from behind…that one in the skirt, she’s all hot and heavy in the flirting but probably pouts if you want her mouth on your cock. My gaze lit on each of the women in the thinly populated club in turn. She’s into a guy going down on her. Not super good for the actual deed. Would I miss it, if I had to spend four months not even thinking about what it would take to sweet-talk some little minx of a girl onto the bus with me?
I thought about the night before with Olivia and a jolt of heat shot through me, straight to my groin. I closed my eyes for a second, taking a sip of my beer to try and cool myself off a bit. At least at the moment, I couldn’t imagine possibly missing the potential partners for the guarantee of an incredibly good lay. But you don’t know that she’ll ever have sex with you again; that’s kind of the point. What if you get her on the tour, and she goes frigid on you? I shook my head at my own thought, opening my eyes and blinking a few times to adjust. Olivia Grant didn’t have a frigid bone in her body—that much I knew. I’d have to handle her carefully, I’d have to prove I wasn’t just going to drop her as soon as another pretty face showed up, but just from one night with her it was obvious that she was the hottest fuck I’d find in months.
I caught sight of Olivia right about when I had finished my beer and was deciding whether to move on—go home, or meet up with one of the guys wherever they’d gone. She definitely wasn’t working; I grinned to myself at the sight of her in a short skirt and a pair of boots, with a filmy, thin-strapped blouse over it. The skirt wasn’t so short that she couldn’t bend over, but it definitely showed off her legs, and made me remember just what she looked like naked.
I watched her for a little while, working out my approach in my mind. Normally, I almost never had to really even think about how to approach a girl; normally, just walking up to them and making a little conversation was enough. But after the way she’d left me in the morning, and the way she’d responded to my text, I had to give it a little thought.
I saw her heading for the bar and started in that direction myself, moving from my table and walking up so that I’d arrive at just about the same moment she did, almost right next to her. Olivia looked a little distracted—which was to my benefit. I got to the bar next to her, and barely—barely—brushed up against her, while I leaned against the bar, my attention on the bartenders. “Nick?” I looked at her and grinned
slightly.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said. I held up one hand to indicate I was ready to order.
“Are you stalking me or something?” Olivia pressed her lips together, looking anything but pleased to see me.
“I’m here a few times a week, at least,” I said, shrugging. One of the bartenders, Rachel, came up to me. “Isn’t that right, Rachel?”
“You haven’t seen him here before, Liv?” Rachel shook her head. “Although I have to say usually Nicky either hangs out at the arcade machines or finds someone to go home with about twenty minutes after he walks in the door.” Not the best thing for Rachel to have mentioned just then.
“I hang out plenty,” I countered. “Just not on the nights you work.”
“My editor said that he got a call from your manager,” Olivia said, still halfway scowling at me. “You didn’t bitch about me, did you?”
“Nope,” I told her, shaking my head. Rachel put a PBR down in front of me and I picked it up. “In fact, you should meet with your editor as soon as possible.”
“Why is that?” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. Rachel asked her what she wanted, interrupting our conversation. “Jack and Coke, please,” Olivia said absently.
“Because you might just have an interesting opportunity in front of you. Not one you’re obligated to take, but one that would put you in a very good position in your career,” I told Olivia. I grinned again; I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to try and talk my way into her bed—or talk my way into getting her into my bed—that night. “I’d be curious to hear your thoughts about it.” I raised my PBR and took a step back from the bar. “Think I’ll drink this and then meet up with Jules wherever he’s landed for the night.” I felt Olivia watching me as I left the bar to wander around the room; I made sure that as long as I knew we were both still in the building, I only talked to guys. I needed to make a good impression, after all.