by Kris Bryant
Chapter Nineteen
I can feel tension seeping from Ali. I’m not sure why she’s in a bad mood, but I can tell that something’s off. After spending four incredible days getting to know her physically and emotionally, I’m hell-bent to find out. This is our last night together and I want to go out with a bang. Or five. Ali is sitting on the floor in the front room leaning against the couch, her guitar beside her, both of them very quiet.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I can tell she’s been crying. She smiles up at me and quickly wipes away her tears.
“I’ll be fine,” she says. She offers no explanation. I’m thinking of every horrible scenario in my head, all at once. Her tour bus caught on fire, something’s wrong with someone in her family, somebody died, she hurt herself.
“Why are you crying? Did something happen?” If I don’t find out the truth, my imagination’s going to get the best of me. That’s okay when I’m writing, but not in real life.
“I’m just upset. I’m mad because we’re leaving tomorrow morning and it just sucks. I’ll be back on the road for two months, and God only knows when I’ll get to see you again. It’s been so nice and peaceful, just the two of us, getting to know each other. You know? Now we have to go back to text messages and late-night phone calls, and it’s just going to be hard.”
I’m trying not to think about that, too, but it’s been weighing on me.
“I’m really going to miss you.” The look she gives me is sweet but sad. I smile at her.
“I’ll see you before your tour ends. I’m not going to go two months and not see you or touch you.” I drop to my knees so we’re eye level. “I’ve waited too long for you. I’m not going flip a switch and turn off everything I’m feeling just because you’re traveling.”
I realize that I’ve just opened my heart to her. I think she needs to know that I’m not Gennifer and I do think she’s worth the wait. Ali stares at me for a few seconds and then leans forward and kisses me. It’s sensuous and slow, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle being apart from her for so long. I vow in my head to see her every two or three weeks.
“I’m going to miss this,” she whispers against my mouth. “Your beautiful mouth, your touch, the noises you make when we’re together. Just knowing that you’re close to me.”
My heart tumbles around inside me, trying to stabilize. It ends up in my stomach.
“I’m going to miss you, too. You saved me. You know that, right? Thank you for talking to me that Saturday at camp. You woke up a part of me that I didn’t think would ever wake again.” I know I sound pathetic, but I’m trying to be sincere and truthful. I kiss her again, putting all of my heart into that kiss. I hope she feels my vulnerability and how close I am to tears, too. Our kiss shifts, suddenly becoming more urgent, more passionate. I want to be naked against her right now. I take off my shirt and remove my shorts to reveal the bikini I was wearing the day at my cabin when she changed my life.
I straddle her and slide down so that I’m sitting on her lap, her knees behind me. Her pupils dilate and she’s breathing heavier than normal. Our kiss turns passionate immediately. Her hands run from my waist, up my back, and twist in my hair to bring me closer. I can feel the roughness of her jeans against my sex. The bikini offers very little covering and I rock my hips for more friction. I’m desperate to feel her hands on me. I want her to make me forget that this time tomorrow we’ll be apart. She tugs at the strings of my bikini bottoms, trying to take them off. I tilt my hips a bit to allow her to finish untying. I’ve never wanted my clothes off faster in my life. There is something so incredibly sexy about being completely naked while Ali’s still dressed.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” she says. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Just look at you. You’re perfection.”
I’m not sure how to respond. I watch as Ali runs her fingertips over my stomach and up to cup my breast. I close my eyes when I see her mouth close over my nipple. I lean back to allow her more room. She runs her hands up my thighs and slides two fingers inside me. I lift up to give her more access. I’m moving my hips fast and I feel like I’m going to break her hand. I try to stop for fear that I really will hurt her. She keeps thrusting into me and kissing me and we’re moving completely in sync. My knees are scraping against the carpet, but I don’t care. I need to come. One of her hands is at the back of my neck holding me in place. She alternates her mouth between my lips and my breasts. We’re both sweating and moaning, and when I finally come, I shake so hard I collapse.
“Are you okay?” she asks. She’s rubbing my back, trying to calm me down. I can’t find words. I can only nod and rest my head on her shoulder. If I look at her right now, she’ll see how I’m feeling, and it’s too soon for either one of us to go there. I count to ten, then look up at her. She looks so worried that I can’t help but smile. I run my hand over Ali’s cheek and kiss her softly.
“I’m wonderful,” I say. “That was so fast and incredible. It just took me by surprise.” She smiles back and runs her finger over my bottom lip.
“It took me by surprise, too.” She gently kisses me. “You’re going to be sore later. Your lip is swollen from me. I’m sorry.” I run my tongue over my bottom lip to feel. “Mmm. I love when you do that.” She kisses me again.
It feels so good opening up to another person. I’m relaxing and she’s holding me, stroking my hair. I suddenly remember that she was the one who needed comforting. “I should probably get off you and dress,” I say. I’m feeling guilty and exposed. Ali sits there with a wicked grin.
“I think you should spend the rest of the day wearing nothing. You know, I’ve touched you, kissed you, stared at you for days, and I can’t find a single flaw,” she says. I start getting uncomfortable and she holds my face in both of her hands. She’s not rough with me, but she certainly makes me look at her. It’s sexy. “You’re perfect. Get used to me telling you.”
I don’t know what to say so I nod. I get up and quickly throw my T-shirt and shorts back on. God only knows what happened to my bikini. Both of my knees are raw. “Look at my knees!” I say. Ali’s eyes get very, very wide.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Weekend wounds. I’ve been scarred before. Not this way, though,” I say. Ali kisses her index finger and gently touches my knees. She’s so thoughtful. I look at her and think she’s perfect for me. She seems too good to be true.
“Do you want to go into town for a bit?” she asks. “I’ve held you hostage here the whole time and thought it might be nice to get out for a bit. We can go see John and hang out at the bar for a minute or two.”
Escaping for the weekend isn’t reality and I know that, but I want to live this fantasy a little while longer. I want to stay here with her and enjoy the last few hours we have together. Again, I’m being selfish, so I relent.
“That sounds like fun.”
“We don’t have to go until later so there’s no rush to get ready. I still stand by my idea of you running around here naked. But I think you’ll have a good time at John’s. He’s the one who gave me my big break.” Ali explains how her uncle’s best friend, John, let her play at the bar when she visited during the summers in college. She attributes a lot of her success, especially down here, to him. “He’s such a super guy and just the sweetest man you’ll ever meet.”
*
We decide to go out on the boat and enjoy the lake before we head into town. It’s crowded because of the holiday weekend, but we find a quiet spot and drop anchor.
“I’ll try not to fall in again,” I say. Ali laughs and tosses me a life jacket.
“I’ll drive like a granny and not take any sharp turns,” she says.
“You can dump me in the lake again as long as we have the same kind of night.”
Ali winks at me. I want more from her. I want her to tell me she enjoyed the night, too, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t push. I know she enjoyed it, but it’s still nice to
hear. I want to know what happens now. Instead of asking, I start fixing our dinner plates. Within a few minutes, we are joined by other boaters who are out enjoying the early evening and getting ready to watch the fireworks show. Jesus, I can’t get a break. I’m ready to pout because tonight we will have no alone time. This is our last night until God only knows and I’m sharing it with a dozen other people now, and hundreds more in a few hours at the bar. I was hoping for at least a serious make-out session on the boat.
“How about we get out of here before we become trapped?” Ali asks. More and more boats are invading our little alcove, and if we don’t leave now, we’ll be stuck out here until after the fireworks. I scramble around, securing our picnic, and give her the thumbs up. We say good-bye to our fellow boaters and get the hell out of there. Thankfully, Ali heads straight back to the lake house. Even though she isn’t driving fast, I’m still holding on just in case I lose my balance again. I learned my lesson the hard way.
“Do you want to watch the fireworks from the cabin?” she asks. Not unless it’s from the bedroom, I think, but keep it to myself. I don’t want her to think that I’m in this just for sex, because I’m not.
“Only if you want to.” I almost roll my eyes at myself. I hate answers like that. “I’m fine with watching them or just relaxing on the couch. This is your time off, too.” Most adults I know only watch fireworks with their kids. I don’t want to offend Ali in case she’s really into it. She reaches for me as we enter the cabin and kisses me.
“This is our weekend. If you want to just sit around on the couch drinking wine or talking or whatever, then let’s do it. I don’t care about the fireworks.”
“I like that idea so much better,” I say. She grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen and we get comfortable on the couch. We’re sitting very close and I love it. She looks so relaxed and refreshed, and I constantly find myself reaching out to touch her or play with her hair. I can’t keep my hands off her. How can I possibly have it so bad for her already?
*
The bar is in full swing by the time we untangle ourselves from one another and head into town. Ali purposely leaves her guitar at the cabin, afraid that if she takes it, she’ll get sucked into playing a set. She really just wants to see John, that’s it. We’re weaving through the bodies packing the place when Ali’s suddenly torn from my fingers. A giant of a man wraps her in a bear hug, and she laughs and squeezes him back. He’s at least a foot taller than her, weighs three hundred and fifty pounds easily, and really does look like a bear. Ali turns to me and introduces me to Mr. Kodiak Bear, also known as John.
“This is Bethany Lange,” she tells him. She offers him no other explanation and I’m disappointed. I was kind of hoping for some sort of label. He grabs me, gentler than with Ali, and hugs me, twirling me away from her.
“It’s a good thing I’m married,” he says. His voice is a growl, and he makes me giggle with his overt flirting. He sits us at the bar and takes our orders. Ali asks for a sweet tea and I order a glass of wine. He brings us appetizers. We nibble and talk to John, who swings by whenever he isn’t summoned to the kitchen or the register.
“Are you going to sing tonight?” he asks Ali. I cringe.
“Not tonight. I’m taking a break. I can’t wait until I can sleep for a week.” I rub her back to soothe her.
“When do you head back?” he asks.
“Tomorrow. We’re only here for the weekend. A much-needed break,” she says.
“Well, let me get another photo for the wall, okay? And no is not an option. Plus your beautiful girlfriend’s here, and it’s a good excuse to get a photo of her, too!” he says. Ali doesn’t correct him and I smile.
Several people in the bar are looking our way. It’s either because they know who Ali is or they want to know the beautiful woman in the room. I sigh. Tonight is bittersweet. I’m proud and happy to be out with Ali, but sad that it’s our last night together. We really should be back at the cabin, enjoying every minute, enjoying every inch of each other. Ali must have heard me sigh because she calls John over and tells him to take the picture so we can be on our way.
*
The evening is coming to a close and I’m savoring every minute. I hear the clock strike midnight and sigh. I’m stretched out on the couch, my legs over Ali’s lap. She’s stroking them softly and I’m in heaven.
“So when do you think you’ll be able to visit me again?” she asks.
“Camp closes at the end of the month, so I guess anytime after that. It just depends on where you’ll be.”
She closes her eyes to think. “I can’t remember for sure. Probably on the West Coast somewhere. Most of August is up and down the coast, except for a charity event I have back home for two days. I know we end in San Diego over Labor Day weekend. My whole family shows up for the last concert. They’ve done it every year since I started touring. Well, at least since I’ve been somewhat successful,” Ali says.
I smile because I’m sure it’s an incredible time. I want to be there, too, but I’m afraid to ask. Afraid that it’s too much of an imposition.
“Do you have a passport?” she asks.
I nod. I’ve never been without one. My parents introduced me to the world at an early age, and I try to go somewhere new every couple of years. I realize I haven’t been anywhere since the big breakup and decide I need to fix that.
“My parents were always taking me on really nice vacations,” I say. Being an only child does have its perks. Plus it helps when your father comes from money. My grandparents were always sending us overseas during holidays and vacations.
“My favorite place is Italy. The culture is rich and old, and the food is fantastic,” she says.
I can’t make up my mind. I have too many favorites for all different reasons. Austria for skiing, the Bahamas for sunbathing, Alaska and Colorado for hiking. I tell Ali a little bit about my travels and she’s impressed.
“When I go overseas in February, it’ll be a quick tour, but it’ll mainly be in Europe,” she says. I frown. She gives me a frustrated look. “See? This is the part of my life I don’t like. Here I meet you, this wonderful woman I’m excited about, and in a few months I’m leaving this again. Us.” She motions her hand back and forth. “People think musicians are such shits out on the road, but we just can’t seem to keep a relationship strong because we’re away for long periods of time.” She runs her hands through her hair and worry is etched on her face. I reach out and hold her hand.
“I don’t know if I buy that. If people care about each other, they have to trust each other. It’s not easy, I’m sure, but if you really want it to work, then it will. What happened with you and Gennifer?” I ask.
“That’s a long story.” She starts talking and then stops. I’m surprised because I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life getting over Crystal that I didn’t think about Ali and what she might be going through. “I was playing in a bar one night back home. She bought me a drink and we stayed up all night talking. She’d never heard my music before and really liked it. This was right when my career was taking off. She started hanging around whenever I played in town.”
“You were together for over three years, right?” I ask before realizing my mistake. Ali tilts her head and looks at me. “When you first showed up at camp, I Googled you and read an article that said you and your girlfriend of three years lived in the same town where you grew up.”
“And that’s why you stayed away from me that week, huh?” she teases.
I groan. “I know, I know. What a complete waste of time.” I rest my head back on the couch. “So, why did you two break up?”
“We didn’t want the same things. Being on the road so much really put a strain on us and we eventually grew apart. Genn spent her time hanging out with her friends even when I was in town. I didn’t mind that she had friends, but it would’ve been nice to spend time together. We actually went to counseling for about three months. Obviously, that didn’t work. I was interest
ed in starting a family, and she didn’t feel like she was ready to settle down. I think she was afraid I’d leave her alone with our kids and be on the road for six months out of the year. I can’t and I don’t blame her. I’m just thankful we figured out that our problems were unfixable before we started a family.”
I’m surprised by her confession. This is a lot of information for her to share. I feel sad. Ali is afraid her career isn’t geared for a commitment.
“The irony is that I’d already promised myself that once we got pregnant, I was going to take time off. That’s why I toured so much and really pushed myself. I was saving up. The house was free and clear, and I had enough in the bank to not work if I didn’t want to. When we broke up, I gave Genn the house and moved back in with my parents.” She laughs. “It’s sad really. Here I am, thirty-three years old and I still live at home.”
I smile. I don’t think that’s bad. Ali is very close to her family.
“I think that’s fine,” I say.
“Well, I’ll need to get my own place by the time you come to visit. Or else I’ll have to come up with creative ways to keep you quiet.” Ali shoots me a sexy look, causing me to blush and shiver. “I’m not complaining. You know, the first time I saw you, I had wicked thoughts. I thought for sure I was going to teach you a thing or two.” I watch her long fingers stroke my skin, their path headed right for the apex of my thighs. “But after this weekend…” she says. Her voice is thick, her meaning clear. I know she’s turned on. I love that I’m learning her moods just by her voice. Well, I’ve only experienced a few of her moods, ninety-nine percent of them good, so my odds of getting it right are pretty high.
“This has been one of my favorite weekends.” My heart and stomach flutter as I think about all the times and ways Ali touched me.