by Carnal, MJ
“Nope. First time.”
He tears his eyes away from my legs and looks into my eyes again.
“Shea mentioned you were going to be working at Harmon?”
My eyebrows furrow, wondering where this conversation is going. “Yeah …”
He flashes me a smile. “Cool. I’ll see you around then. I have to get back to some people. Maybe I’ll catch you later.”
I smile. “Have fun.”
He nods, pursing his lips as if to contain a smile. “You too.”
He stands, picking up his cup from the table in front of us and walks back to his table. The checkered dress shirt he’s wearing leaves no room to wonder whether or not he’s fit. His back is broad and I can tell he has toned arms just by looking at his forearms. I look back, catching Skylar as he walks toward me and almost feel the urge to laugh. He’s the typical guy I go for and he absolutely pales in comparison to Nick.
“Dance?” Skylar asks when he reaches me.
I shrug. “Sure.” That’s what I came for, after all.
Skylar offers me his hand as I stand, holding my skirt down so that I won’t give everybody the free vagina show Nina was offering, and he leads me out onto the dance floor. We bump into a couple of shoulders trying to get to an empty spot, and when we reach it, Skylar turns to face me and begins to dance. He’s holding my hands, not my hips, which is unusual for the song, but I go with it. It’s a funny place, a dance club. You go there to dance with complete strangers. You let them touch all up on you and grind all over you, but heaven forbid the same person that has their penis pressed to your back tries to make a grab at your ass the next day in broad daylight. It’s such a strange concept and it’s even weirder that I feel so at home in this setting. I’ve always let myself get lost in music, in dancing. I live the lyrics. I fly with the beat.
Nina joins Skylar and me as the next song starts. She picks my hand up as she jumps excitedly when Rihanna begins to sing about finding love in a hopeless place, which again, is pretty fitting for where we are. I smile at my thoughts and close my eyes, throwing my arms over my head and swaying my hips to and fro. I’m so absorbed in the music that I don’t even register hands on my hips or the way the person behind me, whom from the size of his hands I assume is a man, is mirroring my movements with his own hips. As the song transitions into Robert DeLong’s Global Concepts, the large hands on my hips inch up to my waist where the V cuts of my dress reveal the flesh over my ribcage. I shiver at the feel of his hands and open my eyes as I grab his hands and peel them away from me. Pivoting around, my face lands on Nick’s hard chest. He smells like a mix of cigarette smoke and masculine divinity. That’s the only word that comes to mind in describing his scent, and even in my mind it sounds corny. I take a step back, giving us the only space the people around us allow, and look at his face. The moment our eyes meet, I feel like my heart is going to explode. The only thoughts running through my mind are: if this is how it feels to look at him up close, what the hell would it feel like to kiss him?
My thoughts turn to mush when his head dips toward mine, and I find myself automatically closing my eyes and parting my lips for his. We’ve completely stopped moving now and the bodies swarming around us are bumping us from all sides, but I don’t care.
The feel of his breath leaves me quickly but his lips never touch mine so I open my eyes.
“What?” I breathe.
He smirks and shakes his head before leaning in and placing his mouth over my ear. “Why’d you stop dancing?” he asks, his voice is raspy and low and I unwillingly close my eyes again.
I stand on my tiptoes and hold onto his biceps, to steady myself, feeling his muscles flex under my fingers as I lean into his ear.
“Because you were getting frisky,” I respond, letting go of him and standing back to look at him again.
His mouth quirks up again and he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest until all I can do is gasp in his smell. When he begins to sway his hips against mine, I automatically move along with him. He lets go of me just long enough to bring my arms up to his neck before holding me against his hard body again. His intense gaze never leaves mine as he takes my hands and spins me so that my back is on his chest and both of his arms are around the front of my body.
“I think you like it,” he says, making my breath hitch as his bottom lip trails over the shell of my ear.
I’m suddenly finding it hard to breathe and it has nothing to do with the dancing. I look around and catch Nina’s profile as she speaks to Skylar over by the bar. She’s completely enthralled in her conversation and I wonder if she even remembers I’m here. When Nick lifts up my hair from my back and drapes it over one of my shoulders, I close my eyes, completely forgetting about Nina. Nick wipes the beads of sweat on the back of my neck and blows on me. He may think he’s cooling me, but his breath on my neck is making me shiver heat.
I feel him brush the spot in between my shoulder blades with his lips, and I throw my head back to his chest. We’re still swaying along to the beat of the music, but it feels like our dance is much more sensual than the music that’s playing. His hands begin to inch upward again, and again I place my hands over them, effectively stopping him.
“I’m not going to cop a feel, Brooklyn. You can relax,” he says, his voice husky.
I shake my head letting him know I won’t relax, even though my eyes are still closed and my head is lulled against him. I turn myself around to face him again when the song comes to an end and he dips his head close enough that I can see his beautiful ocean eyes before he places a kiss on my cheek. I suck in a breath as he brushes his lips softly up to my ear.
“You look beautiful, by the way. The most gorgeous girl in this place,” he murmurs as he lets go of my arm and turns to leave.
I stand in place, stunned by his words and the feel of his lips on my cheek. I don’t even try to will my heart to go back to normal as I weed through the crowd to find Nina.
“Hey, ready to go?” I ask when I reach her.
“Are you?” she shouts excitedly. “Are you leaving with that hot ass guy you were dancing with?”
My mouth pops open, then shut, then open, then shut. “No!”
Skylar laughs loudly at my reaction and Nina turns to him. “I told you, she’s uptight when she’s sober!”
“Ugh. Can we just go?”
Nina laughs and nudges me with her elbow. “You didn’t look so uptight out there, though. Maybe you should take him home and have some fun for the night. The Hen is gone for the weekend …”
“Nina! I am not doing that! Are you insane?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she groans. “Bye, my Sky, I’ll see you on Sunday!”
“Bye, babe. Bye, Brooklyn, good to meet you,” Skylar says, giving me a hug. “I’ll just walk you out.”
The strangest sensation runs through me as I follow Nina out of the club. Sky has his arm draped over my shoulder, so I can’t see much, but I feel like I have to look back. When I do, I find Nick’s probing eyes. He’s standing by the railing of the VIP area, watching me leave. His jaw is clenched and his lips are set in a straight line, his expression is the complete opposite of how it was when he was dancing with me. I’m about to wave at him when I see a girl walk up to him and say something. He looks at me for a moment longer and finally grabs the hand she’s offering him and goes out to the dance floor with her. I swallow the uneasy feeling that takes over the pit of my stomach and walk out the door, already regretting not staying those extra five minutes.
***
Loud pounding on the door stirs me from my slumber, making me groggily wipe my eyes as I throw the covers off of me. I walk toward my door still blinking away sleep and yawning.
“What?” I mumble.
“Aunt Brooklyyyn,” Melody sings from the other side.
I let out a groan and throw my head back. I love my niece to pieces, but she has the bad habit of waking everybody up at seven in the morning. I’m
especially not after having two long nights in a row. Friday’s clubbing and last night’s shows completely drained me. I wipe my face with both hands and smile as I open the door.
“Hi, Little Miss Sunshine,” I say.
She laughs and shakes her head. I started calling her that after I saw the movie, not that she knows that, but Hendrix gets a laugh out of it. The family in the movie has nothing on our dysfunctional mess, though, and that’s saying a lot.
“Daddy made pancakes. You want?” she asks, shifting on her little feet.
“Sure. I’ll be right out.”
I turn to the bathroom and get ready as quickly as I can. When I come back out, I find Melody lying in my bed with an iPad in her hands.
“Is that mine?” I ask. Melody also has a habit of breaking iPads, and I really don’t want to go to the Apple store on a Sunday.
“Mine,” she says, going back to whatever she’s doing.
“Let’s go eat.”
As we walk down the stairs, Melody tells me how her mom is doing, which of course she has a short answer for. Even when she’s broken down, usually courtesy of my idiotic brother, Sarah holds up a strong front for Melody.
“Are you excited to start Kindergarten this year?” I ask, scooping Melody up in my arms and pushing her long blonde curly hair from her face.
Her green eyes widen as bright as her smile and she hugs the iPad to her chest. “Yes! I know how to write my first and last name!”
“Wow, you’re ahead of your class already? Good girl.” I kiss her forehead and set her down on a barstool when we get to the kitchen.
“Mornin’,” Hendrix says as he plates the pancakes he made.
“Mornin’ to you too. Thanks for sending Cinderella to wake me up,” I say with a shake of my head.
Hendrix laughs. “You know how it is. You had a late night, huh?”
I shrug. “Not as late as Friday, but yeah. I went to the tiniest hole in the wall bar out in the Village and saw a couple of bands.”
“Anything good?”
“Eh.” I shrug.
The truth is, the bands I saw were good, but not good enough. There’s so much untouched talent out there, and I’m sure somebody in my position could have gone to the bar last night and come home raving, but I know the difference between good and gotta have it. The three bands I saw were good but nothing that I felt would be amazing, even though I wish them all the luck in the world.
“Well, you know I trust you implicitly when it comes to sh … stuff like this,” Hendrix says, shooting a quick smile to Melody.
I sigh, knowing that this is probably the only thing he and my father trust me on, but I can’t even be mad at them. Through the years I’ve learned that you reap what you sow, and I’ve sown a lot of stupid shit in my life, so I can’t blame people for underestimating me. I just wish they would give me the chance to prove them wrong in other aspects of my life. C’est la vie.
“I know. I’m the best,” I say with a shrug and laugh when he gives me a disbelieving look.
“So modest,” he says.
“I learned from the best.”
We spend the rest of our morning walking around Central Park, until we’re so exhausted from running around and the heat that we have to take a break. We cross the street and duck into a small restaurant called Sarabeth’s that Hendrix swears is amazing. Judging from the amount of people in here, I would think he has the right idea. Then again, the place is as small as the kitchen in Hendrix’s penthouse, and there are over thirty people in here so it’s not that difficult to get the out of this world illusion from it.
Hendrix asks for somebody and five minutes later we’re sitting down, leaving the line of people that were on the waiting list before us fuming. My brother seems nonchalant about it, as he always does, because he’s used to getting the five star treatment everywhere he goes. He is so the son of my parents. I think what separates me from them is the troubles I’ve encountered because of all the shit I reap due to all the shit I’ve sewn. If it weren’t for that, I would probably feel the same sense of entitlement the rest of the Harmon family seems to be stuck on. I love my family because they’re the only one I have and the only one I know, but their actions are questionable most of the time.
We eat until we’re stuffed and walk back to Hendrix’s place, swinging Melody in between us until she gets tired and he has to carry her.
“She’s going to pass out as soon as we get in,” Hendrix says over her little blonde head.
I smile, watching the way her blue eyes are unwillingly fluttering closed. “She’s already about to pass out.”
I hold onto my brother’s arm as we walk and snuggle into it so I can be closer to Melody’s angelic face. Whenever I’m with her I feel like I need to enjoy every second of it. I feel like I need to show her everything that I wish was shown to me when I was a kid just so that I can selfishly experience it through her eyes for the first time. I stroke her hair softly when we get to a stoplight and just watch her, wishing I could take all the bad in the world out so that she never has to worry about being hurt or suffering. But most of all I watch her and wish she could stay innocent forever. I would kill to have that innocence back. The kind where you don’t question things or people’s motives a hundred times before you decide that you can trust them. Kids just trust without question, and it’s such a beautiful thing. A beautiful yet naïve thing to do, and as naïve as it is, I wish I could get it back.
Letting out a wistful sigh, I turn my head from her face and look across the street straight into the face of Nick, gasping at the unexpected sight of him. He’s crouched down with his hands on his knees and catching his breath from a jog, it seems. I can see the sweat glistening over his forehead before he wipes it with his forearm. His dark blond hair is styled in his typical faux hawk and he’s wearing a sleeveless black shirt with black basketball shorts. His arms, which are usually covered, are exposed for once and the visuals I’ve had of how they might look don’t disappoint. He has an even golden tan and his arms are shapely, the muscles ridging in and out from his shoulders to his triceps. When he stands fully, he snaps his ear buds out of his ear and smiles slightly at me, his piercing eyes jumping from me to Hendrix and back to me. I can see the question in them, but I choose not to answer. I smile back and offer him a small wave right before the cross light flips on and we begin to walk toward each other.
I’m wearing my Tory flats today, my feet still suffering from the other night, and there are enough people walking around us for me to miss him, but I don’t. Nick never takes his eyes off of me as he crosses the street. He walks around a group of people, purposely stepping to my side. There’s no time for formal hellos in the middle of the street, and I’m glad for that because I don’t want to introduce him to my brother and do the whole shebang in a crowded street. My smile is fixed on my face as he approaches, also smiling at me, his eyes crinkling in mischief. When he brushes past me, he takes my hand and squeezes it slightly. It’s just a squeeze. Just. But it’s enough to get my heart pumping, my blood tingling, and my eyes widening as if I’ve been caught doing something wrong, which I know is ridiculous, but that’s how his touch makes me feel.
***
Monday, Monday. Nobody likes you Monday. Nobody likes you when they need to go to school and nobody likes you when they need to go to work. So, Monday, you freaking suck. Take a day off.
I groan, getting out of bed when my alarm clock chimes for me to get up. As exhausted as I feel, I have to smile when I hear Melody’s footsteps pattering on the hardwood floor and her giggles bouncing off the walls. I can’t imagine having such a bright, beautiful little girl and not seeing her daily. I don’t know how my brother does it, or if it even affects him the way I would imagine it does. He’s an amazing brother and a great father, but he is a man and men feel differently about these things. Then again, my mother is a woman and she completely wipes her ass with me, so I guess it depends on the person.
Once I’m ready for work, I
switch my phone on and make myself coffee. I sort through my brother’s endless funny mugs and find a decent enough one to take with me. It says: I LIKE BIG MUGS AND I CANNOT LIE. My brother, mug connoisseur.
“You ready?” Hendrix asks, stepping into the kitchen with Melody trailing behind.
“Ready. Is Mel going to work with us?” I ask.
I wonder if he thinks these things through when he brings her for the week. I’m guessing he does, but still, I wonder how much thought goes into what she’s going to be doing while he’s at work.
“Umm no. Well, she is, but Uncle Rob is picking her up there,” Hendrix responds, checking his huge silver watch. “He should be there soon. Let’s go.”
I take charge of strapping Melody into her booster chair, while Hendrix works out details of a meeting he has. On the way to Harmon, I show Melody the pictures Allie sent me of the newest microphones and let her hold the sample of the one I have in my purse.
“It’s heavy,” Melody says with a giggle.
“It is. It’s made of gold,” I joke.
Her blue eyes widen like saucers and she gasps. “Gold? Like Golden Doubloons?”
I smile with a confused frown. “Golden the what?”
Hendrix turns in his seat. “It’s from Jake and the Never Land Pirates. Some gold coins.”
“They’re not gold coins, Daddy! They’re Golden Doubloons,” Melody insists, shaking her head in dismay at him before turning her pretty round face back to me. “You get them when you solve problems.”
I nod my appreciation. “Cool. I like that. Golden Doubloons. I’ll Google them so I can see what they look like.”
“They look like coins,” Hendrix chimes in again.
Melody groans. “They’re not coins like quarters,” she whispers to me.
I laugh, kiss her round cheeks, and place the gold microphone in the case in my purse. When we get to Harmon, we find our uncle, Rob, waiting for us outside. My smile magnifies when I see the excited smile on his face. Uncle Rob is my favorite member of my mom’s family, aside from Nina’s mom, Mireya. He’s the one freest of judgment, and the most loving and giving human being I have ever met. Not that I’ve met many of those.