I loved that she knew where to look for such things. She’d lived here for almost two weeks. It was like she belonged here. What I didn’t like was the idea that she would get over me in any capacity. I was doing all of this to get her back. I wasn’t intending to let her go. She grabbed a spray bottle from under the sink and went into the bathroom to get my comb.
She sprayed my hair and started to comb through it, then slid the comb to the end and started to cut. It was comforting feeling her work with my hair.
“The drugs, the parties, that one girl I kissed. I did it all because I couldn’t handle my feelings for you. I was so jealous of you, wanted to be like you, wanted to sleep with you, own you, dominate everything you were, and I knew you wouldn’t let me. I hope, before you choose to get over me, you give me one last chance. I’m a mess, but I’m trying to fix me. I’m trying to get better at all of those things.” I know I was begging, but I had to. I couldn’t lose her.
Her fingers raked through my hair as she continued to cut. “I’m no less messy. I just handle this better. I guess. I get up and walk away.” She snipped around my ears; it was ticklish and sexy.
“How is walking away handling it well?”
“Saves me the pain.” She began to cut the back.
“You walked out at the first sign of trouble without even talking to me. I tried calling a million times.”
“I know.” She cut the other side of my hair.
“So, you owe me a do-over.” I gave her a boyish smile.
“I do?” She continued to snip; the bounce was back in her voice again. I had a shot at this.
I know it was a bold move, but when she came to finish trimming the front of my hair, her beautiful boobs were right there. I couldn’t hold myself back. I reached out and touched them, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples, praying she’d let me have her.
“What are you doing?” She seemed completely surprised.
“Please,” I smiled and kissed each nipple over her shirt, lovingly. “Give me a chance to do better.”
Chapter 22
Melody
It felt so good to have him touch me again. I understood him. He was the sweet youngest boy of cold billionaire parents who didn’t seem to want him. I appreciated Sinclair much more for stepping in and being a great influence on Sage’s childhood, which seemed rather sad. Sage admitting he was jealous and possessive didn’t really change my mind. I wasn’t willing to trust him again, but I let him touch my breasts while I finished the trim. I loved the way he made me feel. I wasn’t sure I was going to let him go further, so as small swathes of hair rained down between us, my skin flushed, responding to his deliberate attention. Even breathing became more of a chore as I tried to seem unaffected by his touch. I had to stop him.
“You always use sex, Sage. It’s hard to resist.” I gently took his hands away from my breasts. “I want more. I’m willing to wait for you to figure out what you want from us or recover from what we’ve shared, but I’m not giving in this time.”
He seemed hurt by this admission, but he respectfully removed his hands. “I think I just told you I want more, too,” he said under his breath.
“No, you told me why you lost your mind taking drugs and kissing women. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I’m tired of dating the wrong men. I look at Reyna and Sinclair, and I want what they have. They love each other, they have a family, and both are successful in their own right. That’s the dream … that’s what I want. Now that I know that people can live happily ever after, I won’t settle for less. I feel like I could love you, Sage, and you might be the one. Someday. Seriously, I don’t understand why I feel as strongly for you as I do because outside of music and sex, you and I haven’t let each other in. You’re bossy and controlling. You ignore me at times. I know deep inside of you, though, is a great human. I want to know more about him and see more of him, please.” I hated stopping the progression of our passion, but we’d had so much sex … it was time for something deeper.
“You’re right,” he said. “I haven’t let you in, even though I want to. It’s hard to lower my guard. Music is my heart ... the rest is overwhelming. So, maybe if you and I jam some more, we’ll get closer to where we both want to be.”
I loved the little boy spark that lit up his eyes. This was the Sage I’d been hoping to see again. If music was the way to his heart, then I didn’t mind taking the journey. It was a safe way for both of us to communicate.
“Yes, I wanna play with you.” I laughed as I stood up and walked over to my guitar. “What are we playing?”
“It’s a mashup …” He started strumming the chords to “Never More.”
“Oh no, I already gave you a song for Christmas … no more songs for you, Mr. Getting Famous on The Song I Wrote,” I playfully scolded.
“It’s not for me.” He smiled as he continued to play.
So, for hours, we played a combination of “Ever After” and “Never More” … a mashup that was one song answering the other. It was the way I’d written them without really knowing. In addition to creating one song out of the two, we added an ending to both songs that spoke of acceptance, love and taking a risk in order to have it all. We played for hours, and by the time we had created a song we both really loved, I was starving for food. Despite this, I was sated with love. The love I was feeling wasn’t made with our bodies, but with our music.
“Let me make you dinner,” I announced as I put my guitar down and stood up, feeling cracked and old. My muscles were stiff and lifeless; I’d lost track of the time. The sun was gone, and it must have been very late at night or possibly already very early in the morning.
“Let’s see what you have in here.” I opened his refrigerator and pretty much found only beer, a bag of weed, a bottle of sweet black tea, ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise. “Yeah, okay, not gonna make anything in there.” I shut the door and moved on to the cabinets.
My luck with the cabinets was equally as abysmal.
“Sorry, I don’t think there’s food in the house.” He grimaced. “Probably not worth the effort; I might have a box of pasta or something.”
“How are you not all skin and bones? What do you eat? And assuming we go with this box of pasta as a possibility, what are we having with it, a ménage of ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise?”
“Yum. I usually just order in, go out or don’t eat. I ... um, it’s been hard without you here.” He shrugged.
“What time is it?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped my finger across the screen. Yikes, it was one in the morning, the time seriously had flown. “Any place open twenty-four hours? It’s already one.” Suddenly I was even more hungry than I had been, knowing there was no way for us to get food.
“Sure, twenty-four-seven is open twenty-four-seven,” he said with an ironic smile.
“What?” It was either my starved, euphoric state of mind or he was messin’ with my head.
“It’s a restaurant at the Standard hotel. It’s open all night. They have great burgers. We can go there, my treat.” He grabbed his tattered black leather jacket from the peg and put on his boots.
I zipped up my hoodie and slid into my shoes, tasting burgers in my mind. “I am so starving my stomach is all I can think about. I hope the restaurant’s good ’cause I’m so hungry I could eat you!”
“Is that a promise?” He kissed my lips as we walked out the door.
I definitely set myself up for that one. I walked a few blocks, happy I’d brought my hoodie; the air had a bite I hadn’t noticed before. Winter was finally settling in. I cinched my hood closed, something I didn’t do often in Los Angeles. My stomach grumbled, and although the restaurant was only a few steps more, I wasn’t sure I could make it.
“Ugh, I’m so freaking hungry,” I griped wallowing in misery.
His strong hand enveloped mine as long calloused fingers caressed my knuckles. Neither of us said anything. Maybe he too was lost to his thoughts or as ravenous as I was. The streets of downt
own were barren and lifeless, littered with trash and remnants of the day. On the rooftops, halos of light arced to the sky and the faint sounds of music and voices could be heard on the wind while the streets below were abandoned and ghoulish. Life in downtown Los Angeles was lived on the rooftops as the streets after dark housed the lost and disenfranchised citizens of our city. I gripped Sage’s hand tighter thinking at any moment a monster or vampire might jump out and strike us down. Most likely it would be us who were the monsters encroaching on a homeless person’s sleep.
The divide between the haves and the have-nots was concretely drawn between those with rooftop access and those who made homes out of boxes and tents. Downtown Los Angeles was poetically horrible as the impoverished huddled together and eked out a living, while trust fund babies pretended to be alternative and edgy in their million-dollar live/work spaces.
We made it to the restaurant without incident and found inside another kind of eclectic world. Seated on yellow vinyl booths, crowded around gold-flecked Formica tables, was a collection of the city’s most interesting denizens. Actors congregating after a play, all, including the men, had the scrubbed down remnants of heavy makeup on their faces. Some wore hats or had hair at odd angles from being over-coiffed or stuffed into a wig. At another table were construction workers perhaps on a lunch break. At another table were lovers, at another vampire’s? Or a Goth band? A homeless man ate toast at the bar. I loved Sage a little more for this being his regular spot, it aligned so well with everything I loved most about life, with people being people, unapologetic of who they were in the world.
“Hey, Rachel.” Sage waved to the very busy, harried-looking waitress who could also be a supermodel. She had a huge halo of curly brown hair, deep ebony skin, and eyes you melted into.
Don’t be jealous, don’t be angry, keep it together … my inner mantra played out.
“Sage, what’s up? Give me a minute, and I’ll get you a table and some menus. Calvin needs to clean it first.”
My eyes roved the room looking for a table and found one free of people tucked in the corner. It hadn’t been bussed, was sticky with maple syrup and devoured pancake remnants and a few sketches on the napkins that were left behind. It wasn’t something you could sit down and wait for service at; the table was disgusting. Whoever ate pancakes there probably didn’t care how much of their “breakfast at midnight” reached their mouths. Great artists, though, those napkins could have been worth something one day if they weren’t covered in goo. I focused on the table versus the fact the waitress was clearly flirting with Sage.
“Take your time, we’re good,” he said with a kind smile.
He may have been good, but I was ravenous. I saw, though, that Rachel was busy, so waiting a few minutes more wouldn’t kill me.
“Do you come here a lot?”
He laughed at my question. He must have known what I was fishing for.
“Yeah, I come here when I work late and forget to eat.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Rachel lives in my building, so she’ll give us a deal.”
Like he needed a deal. He had plenty of money to pay for a meal. I also didn’t like that Rachel lived in the building. I’m sure those meal discounts had strings attached. I had to calm my mind down. If I wanted a relationship with Sage, I had to get used to the fact women would always be attracted to him. I couldn’t be threatened by every beautiful woman who knew his name.
“Well, I hope your clout with Rachel will get us fed faster,” I teased. Forget the discount, just getting us a meal would be good at this point.
“Here’s hoping.” He slapped me on the back in a bro-like fashion that had me seething.
“So did you and Rachel date?” I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t not ask.
He laughed at me, and I would have laughed at me too; it was a stupid, jealous girl question.
“Yeah, we did, only she likes girls better, you’re safe. I’m here with you and not her or anyone else, so there’s that.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and drew me in closer.
“I’m being ridiculous,” I confessed.
“You’re being cautious about letting me in again when you’ve already seen a picture of me kissing someone else within twenty-four hours of throwing a party you were accidentally not invited to. At this point, you’re just trying to figure out what kind of dick I might be.” Bingo! He understood exactly what I was doing.
I laughed nervously, “Kinda, yeah.”
“Table’s ready,” Rachel jumped in as Sage and I were having a gushy ‘we read each other so well’ moment.
She grabbed menus from a small podium at the front of the restaurant and seated us at the now pristine table for two.
“I thought you weren’t working the overnights anymore.” Sage made conversation as he took a menu from her.
“Levi’s play.” She rolled her eyes.
“Ugh, how long does it run? I promised I go see him.” Sage looked both guilty and annoyed for making a promise to see his friend perform.
“All month. You’ve got plenty of time. He’s really good, but oh my God, the play …” She bit her lip.
“Weird huh?”
“The weirdest shit I’ve ever seen. I mean … how do they get their funding? Who really wants to see a play about a guy who basically smokes and drinks himself to death in Neverland? It’s so freaking depressing … and the gay thing with Captain Hook? Like I get it, but why? I mean if Peter didn’t want to grow up, okay … but becoming a drug-addicted pirate butt-boy? I’m not sure I buy it. I felt so sorry for the captain, he could have done much better. Even Smee was better, he could get a hot pirate man and go to town, but he had to make drunk Peter Pan his bitch. And then just watch him wallow and complain ... and die.” Listening to Rachel speak, I started to like her more. Kudos to Sage for dating her—she was super cool. My jealousy turned to admiration.
“I know. Levi gave me the script and was like, can we practice the kissing part? and I was like … um, no. Hell no. I’m comfortable with my sexuality and all so I’m fine with kissing a dude, but his full beard freaks me out … like where are his lips? I know it’s for the show, but it was a little more than I could handle,” Sage confessed with a contorted expression.
“Oh, trust me. I handled it. His lips were there, but it was like kissing a toilet brush. If I’m going for a bush, it isn’t going to be on a man’s face.” She laughed, and I squirmed.
Rachel was so sexy, I could actually imagine kissing her, it was a fun thought. I couldn’t imagine more than that, but I could see why Sage liked her.
“I’ll let you two take a minute,” Rachel suggested as her eyes darted over to a table with two people flagging her down. “They sit there forever and order nothing but an appetizer to split, stay here all night, then act like the place is burning down when they want their bill. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“So what looks good?” Sage asked, redirecting his attention to the menu.
“Everything.” I could hardly focus on one thing; I was so hungry. “Whatever is the fastest.” I gave him a pathetic grin.
“The chicken and waffles are good, so is the avocado toast,” he recommended.
“I’ll have both and some chamomile tea.” I snapped my menu shut and loved the surprised look on his face. I probably was eating for an army, but I didn’t care, I was that hungry.
“Me too.” He closed his menu and smiled. “Whatever we don’t eat, we can have for breakfast tomorrow, today … whatever.” He seemed almost giddy.
From where I was sitting it looked like adoration, that glowing feeling of love and acceptance two people have when they care for one another deeply.
We ordered our food, and Rachel didn’t blink at such a big order for two people. For a second, Sage and I had nothing to say. I think we had too much to say, and it wasn’t the right place to say it, but instead of filling the void with words, we held hands. The pull to each other was undeniable, and I knew, despite my inner protest, I would be m
aking love to him at some point before morning broke. The warm glow of love was saturating us when Rachel brought out our food. She must have noticed our invisible halo because she just gave Sage a warm pat on the back and walked off to attend to the other customers.
The first bite was heaven and the rest equally as joyous; finally, I was eating.
“Oh my God.” I chewed, near euphoria.
“Told you it was good,” he said smirking.
“Oh my God … food, good food.” I felt like a cavewoman; I would have planted my face in my meal if it was even remotely proper.
“Poor you, I should have fed you earlier,” he lamented.
“Yes, you should have.” I gave him a playfully angry scowl and dove into my chicken while eyeing the avocado toast.
Within twenty minutes my stomach was churning and digesting the onslaught of food. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t eat another bite. I still had half a plate of chicken and an uneaten piece of avocado toast and a stomach full of lead. I sipped on the tea hoping it would break up the food baby I had just consumed.
Chapter 23
Sage
I knew Melody was a little nervous when she met my neighbor Rachel and understandably so, Rachel was a beautiful budding fashion designer. While she often modeled to pay the bills as well as worked at the restaurant, fashion design was more of her thing. We’d been friends for years, and the relationship thing never worked out for us. Staring at Melody, her eyes sparkling in the low lighting that haloed her incredible face, there was no more beautiful woman anywhere. Knowing what a talented and caring person she was only made the package more desirable. I loved that she also wasn’t afraid to eat.
She only finished part of her meal but went at it with gusto.
“Feeling better?” I asked her as she finally showed signs of slowing down.
“Yes, but now I think I’m edging toward a food coma. I’m so crazy. I get really insane if I don’t eat and then when I do, I bottom out.” She rubbed her tiny belly, pushing it out as far as it would go to show she’d eaten a ton of food.
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