by J. Saman
She might just be my fantasy come to life. My wet dream personified. My midnight magic.
She looks around the open room teaming with kids, and I watch her, waiting for the moment when she finds me. But somehow, she doesn’t. She just walks further into the party, going in the opposite direction from me. I don’t call out to her. I have a better idea for my girl.
And yeah, I just called her my girl. Because at this point, I might as well swing from the noose like I mean it. I’m done with the game I created. With the one that neither of us are particularly good at playing. I sneak back, away from the roaring scene in the kitchen, over to the bedrooms. I know which one is empty because no one dares to enter Oswilder’s room. But he’s so damn drunk and busy, I doubt he’ll ever find out.
I open the door and sure enough, it’s dark and quiet. Ignoring the scent of sweat smothered in cologne, I wait, the door partially ajar so I can see. It doesn’t take long. I hear her talking to Daria about something while Cass laughs. I’d know that crazy laugh probably anywhere. She passes by, her blonde hair swinging. I reach out, wrapping my arm around her waist and tugging her into me, pulling her into the dark room. I wink at her friends, their expressions shifting from startled to scared to amused.
Lyric yelps, but I quickly stifle her cries of protest with a searing kiss. It doesn’t even take her a full second to catch up before her hands are all over me, running through my hair, pulling up my t-shirt so she can slink her hands along my abs. I flex under her touch, pressing into her before I drop to my knees.
“You wearing this dress to taunt me?”
She nods, her head back against the wall, chin raised, mouth open on a silent moan. God, she’s so sexy. I raise up the short hem of her skirt, inch by inch, enjoying the hell out of the smooth skin of her thighs as I go. “Jesus, matching panties, Lee. You are trying to taunt me.”
I bury my face in the thin hot pink satin covering her pussy. She lets out a long moan, unable to stop it escaping her lips. Lyric gets loud if I don’t shush her, but right now, I don’t care if the whole damn party knows how good I’m about to make her feel. Inhaling deeply, I nip at her over the fabric. She’s soaked. It only takes her seconds to be ready for me.
“This is mine,” I breathe into her and she whimpers, her thighs already starting to tremble and I haven’t even gotten started with her. “No one else’s.”
“Mmmm.”
“Tell me, Lee. Tell me that you’re mine. Tell me you want this to continue.” Her chin drops to her chest and she meets my eyes, my face still right where we both want it, but I think I’ve successfully managed to distract her. “I don’t want this to end when the semester does.”
Her eyes sparkle against the light that seeps in through the seam of the door. “But—”
“I don’t care. I know it’s going to be shit. I know I won’t see you and barely talk to you. I know all of this, but I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”
“You’re willing to make that same promise? Four months apart with no other women?”
I nod, running my nose up and down her panties.
“This is epically stupid. We’re going to end up fighting. We’re going to end up getting jealous and wanting things neither of us can deliver.”
I stand up because this is the sort of conversation that has to happen face to face. I cup her cheeks and hold her gaze. I open my mouth, but I can’t make the words come out. I can’t say them. I’m paralyzed. Because in this moment, looking into her eyes, I realize just how far my lies have extended. I do love this woman. Like no one has ever loved anyone before. But I can’t tell her. I can’t tell her how badly I need her. I don’t even know why. The harder I try to force words out, the more impossible it becomes.
“See,” she says, completely misreading my silence. “I don’t want to place expectations on you and then hate you if you don’t deliver on them.”
I shake my head, but still, I stay silent. Speak, dammit. Why the fuck can’t I tell her? But I know why. Because if I give her that piece of me, when this ends, I’ll end with it. How can we succeed? We’re only talking about four months, but it feels like an eternity and that’s just this summer. What about next summer after we graduate and she permanently moves to Los Angeles and I permanently move to New York City?
What then?
“No expectations,” I say and hate myself for it.
Her eyes glisten and I know I just said the wrong thing. I know it. I just indicated that I want my freedom to fuck other women when other women don’t even show up on my radar.
“So, this is ending?”
I shake my head and press my lips to hers. “Never,” I breathe against her, kissing her so she doesn’t doubt my need for her again. “We can make it work, Lee. We just won’t place expectations on our time. We’ll talk when we can. We’ll see each other if the timing works out. And come September, we’ll pick right back up.”
“Until the next time we reach this point.”
“A lot can happen in a year, baby.”
“Kiss me, Jameson. Because I’m so tired of thinking about things I promised you I wouldn’t. I’m a planner. I’m the girl who always has to be in control of a situation and I have no control over this. It’s killing me. I hate that I think about it so much. That I don’t want these four months apart to happen even though my dream job is waiting for me. But all the jobs I’m interested in are in California and I—”
I quiet her with a kiss. I kiss her so she knows I understand. That I’m not asking her to chose between her dream and me. Just like she’s not asking me to pick her over my dream. We’re so young. Just at the beginning of our lives. If we deviate from our dreams now, we don’t know if we’ll find our way back. The world is too crazy. But I meant it. A lot can happen in a year. So, tonight, I’ll comfort her with my body. With my reticent heart.
I kiss her mouth and infuse her soul with mine. We become one and for the first time—at a baseball party in my captain’s room—I make love to her. I tell her with my body what my mouth can’t. I make promises that I wonder if I’ll be able to keep. I guess that’s why I hate time so much. The bitch is unyielding. Can’t rewind her. Can’t speed her up or slow her down when you really want to. She’s an impenetrable force out to get you.
Lyric clutches at me, holding on tight after we finish, both of us breathing hard. We may have figured out a plan for the summer, but everything between us still feels unsettled. Shaky. Like even though we’re both giving everything over to the other person, we’re still holding everything back.
“Four months, Lee. It’s nothing. Just a blip.”
Her eyes find mine and she smiles softly, her hand running across my cheek and through my hair. I love it when she does that, and I automatically close my eyes before reopening them.
“We’ll be back in no time.”
I nod. But inside, I wonder what we’ll look like when we are.
Chapter 12
Lyric
* * *
Between May twelfth and September fifth, there are one hundred and fourteen days. Out of those one hundred and fourteen days, I saw Jameson a total of four. Four days out of a hundred and fourteen. We didn’t talk much, either. I mean, we did talk, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. Not every day or even every other day. Sometimes we’d go three, or even four, days without speaking.
This summer was rough. As predicted, we fought a lot. I tried not to get angry. I tried not to place demands on him or his time like we’d discussed before we went our separate ways. But God, it was so freaking tough. Because when you’re crazy about someone, all you want is to have them in your sphere. Physically with you. And when that can’t happen, you settle for things like Facetime and phone calls. Even texts, though those fall last on my list.
Jameson didn’t like the guys in one of the bands I worked with. He didn’t like the long hours and me living in my father’s Malibu house by myself. He really doesn’t like my relationship with Robert Snow.
> In reverse, I hated his long hours. It drove me nuts when he went to clubs with Cane and Travers. I’d cringe every time I heard women in the background of his office, because I knew they saw exactly what I see when they looked at him.
We’d made plans to see each other for more than just those four days, of course. He canceled on me twice. I canceled on him once. Those four days we spent together was over the Fourth of July.
I understood he was busy. He was working long hours at his father’s company, and trying to get the startup with Cane and Travers going with any spare time he had left. So yeah. He didn’t have a lot of time. The time difference didn’t help, because he’d want to call at six in the morning New York time when he’d first wake up—three in the morning California time. By the time I woke up at seven, he was already well into his work day. Nighttime wasn’t much better for us.
I tried not to think about what he was doing and who he was doing it with. I trusted him. I knew he cared deeply for me even if he never told me directly and I held on to that during some particularly dark moments. But in all honesty, I was too busy to think much about our relationship status. I was doing twelve, sometimes fourteen-hour days, working on two different albums. Both were so very different. One was for an alternative band that has a heavier rock sound, like a cross between Imagine Dragons and Kings of Leon. The other was a female soloist who has more of a hip-hop sound and we were able to incorporate a few tracks with some really kick ass trick hop beats to it that will light up clubs when this album goes live. Her soft voice mixed in with the heavy techno beats really made you feel the soul behind it.
In truth, I didn’t want to leave Los Angeles for Tennessee. I love it there. I love what I was doing there. I love producing music and working with artists and I have no desire to go back to school other than to be with Jameson. In fact, Robert suggested that I stay. That I don’t need an education. That I already have all the tools I need to succeed in this world, in this industry, and that I’m wasting my time studying. Part of me, a very dark part, agrees with him.
I really don’t need the degree. It’s not like I’m getting much out of my music courses anyway.
But Jameson is here, and if I didn’t come back, well, then I’m essentially giving up on us. Not that we won’t have to make that call next summer. But I can’t stomach that now. Not when so many things can change between now and then.
I’m walking across campus, headed to my dorm. I’m still on campus. Mostly because it’s really convenient. I’m sharing a suite with Daria again; Cass said she’d rather die than live in a dorm with a shared bathroom. I sort of get her point on that, but we only share it with four other girls. It’s not that terrible.
The late summer air is sweet and warm, the sun just starting to set, lighting up the sky with gorgeous shades of pink, purple, orange and gold. Jameson sent me a text this morning, informing me that his flight didn’t land until ten, and it’s an hour drive to campus. Disappointed? You bet. It’s just another thing to add on to the pile of bullshit that makes me wonder if I’m the only one invested in us. I mean, what the fuck? He couldn’t get an earlier flight to be with me for a few hours before our classes start tomorrow?
I sigh, staring up at the pretty puffy multicolored clouds, trying not to obsess about the guy.
“Hey Lyric,” a voice calls out to my right and I spin around in a startled flash, coming face to face with Matt. “Nice running into you. How was your summer?” He stands over me, a little closer than I’d expect him to, tall with a broad smile that brings those boyish dimples out in full force.
“It was good. Busy. How about you?”
If possible, that smile grows. “Awesome, actually. I was in New York, working on an off-Broadway show.”
“Cool,” I say. “Sounds great.”
“Yeah,” he nods enthusiastically. “It was a huge success. As one of the stars, I feel like I got a lot of notoriety for it. I even had some agents and other interested parties approach me. They saw the show and heard me at open mic nights.”
“Nice. Sounds like things are starting to come together for you.”
He steps in closer and I have to resist the urge to step back. After Jameson and I got together, Matt sort of backed off. Sort of. He continued to push me about working with him on his sound. I know what this is. I’m not stupid or naïve. I know what he’s after.
“I’d like you to work with me on that. I know with our talents combined we can make something amazing.”
Right. Um…how do you tell someone you have very little interest in working with them or having them trade on your name? “Not sure if I’m the best person to help you with that, Matt. I know there are lot of other more talented producers out there that I bet your interested parties would rather have you work with.”
He grins like he’s reading me, but I don’t think he really is. In fact, that smarmy grin makes it feel like he’s about to try and drop a bomb on my head. “Is this about Jameson? About him not liking you working with me? Because I heard the two of you weren’t seeing each other anymore.”
I hate it when I know things before they happen. It never turns out in my favor. And does Matt really believe that pointing out my troubled relationship is the way to enlist my help? “I’m not sure who told you that—”
“Saylor did,” he quickly interrupts, my stomach dropping at her name. “Didn’t you know she was in New York with Jameson?” Does he have to look so satisfied? I didn’t know Saylor was in New York this summer. It’s not a name Jameson and I use all that often. “She told me that he told her the two of you were over. I’m not sure what happened between them, but—”
“Nothing fucking happened between them,” Jameson’s loud, angry voice rings through the twilight of the evening. I feel his hand slide around my waist. I feel the warmth of his body infuse my ravaged, insecure soul as he settles himself against me, practically nose to nose with Matt who has yet to step back. “Clearly, Saylor was talking out of her bony ass because Lyric and I are still very much together and that’s not about to change, Matt. So how about you take your untalented, opportunistic self and fuck off.” He shifts, gazing down at me with something close to adoration in his pale blue eyes. “Lee and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
Matt steps back, but he laughs harshly as he does it. “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you, Lyric. Saylor told me all about the times she had his cock in her mouth over the summer and the late-night sex at the club.”
Asshole. Why? Just why does he have to do that? Why do people feel the need to be so inherently mean to others? I seriously do not get it.
Jameson removes his hand from my waist, balling up his fists until his knuckles turn white, stepping in Matt’s direction. “You have two seconds. I’m bigger and taller, and though fighting isn’t really my thing, I won’t hesitate to knock your lanky ass to the ground and spit on you while you bleed.”
Oh shit.
“One.”
Matt stares him down, trying to hold onto his precious pride, but deep down, he has to know he’s outmatched. Jameson easily has three inches and fifteen pounds of muscle on him. He starts walking backward all the while maintaining eye contact with Jameson. Once he’s a good ten feet away and just before he turns to walk off, he refocuses on me and smiles. “I’ll see you around, Lyric. Remember what I said.”
With that, he’s gone. Walking briskly away while trying to preserve an air of nonchalance. Jameson turns on me, and in a heartbeat, I’m in his arms. Not just being held but lifted up until my feet dangle inches from the ground.
“He’s a liar,” he says in no uncertain terms. His words are clear and direct, sincerity and desperation bleeding from his eyes as he begs me to hear him. Believe him. “I swear to God, Lee. I swear on everything there is that he’s lying. Saylor had Cane’s dick in her mouth all summer.” I blink at him, shaking my head slightly. He lifts me higher, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist and my arms to encircle his neck until we’re eye to eye and inches
apart. “Saylor was in New York this summer. I didn’t mention it to you because I didn’t want you to worry about her. I know how you feel about each other. She tried with me, okay? She did. I probably should have told you, but you were in California and we were barely talking as it was. I didn’t want to fight over nothing. I brushed her off immediately and she didn’t try again. I didn’t want her, Lee. I only want you. She latched onto Cane because, as you know, he has money. Thankfully, his mother installed a gold-digger alarm in him at birth and he didn’t do much with her other than let her suck him off as often as she was willing. He didn’t even fuck her.”
“Okay,” I say, believing him, but still not all that happy that this conversation had to happen in the aftermath. Or at all. Or that he filled me in on the details about her with Cane. That feels like a bit of a TMI, but I won’t mention that. But really, Jameson knows I’m friendly enough with Cane and Travers that these would be verifiable facts. And I don’t think he’d ever ask his friends to lie to me for him.
“Is that ‘okay’ as in you believe me?” he asks warily, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine.
I nod. “Yes. I believe you. I know you wouldn’t cheat.”
“Thank Christ.” He blows out a huge breath of relief. “Because I’ve missed you so goddamn much.” His lips find mine, reclaiming what is only his. “Come home with me. I know we need to talk. I know things have been…not right. But I’ve missed you and I want to pick up where we left off last spring.”
I pull back and meet his eyes. I love you, I think. This is not the first time I’ve thought those words. Or even mouthed them silently while he was inside my body. But I haven’t dared to speak them aloud. And it’s not even because he hasn’t said them first. It’s because I know that once I give into them, allow them to take over and become part of our fabric, our relationship will change. There will be no more holding back.