by Carnal, MJ
“One of yours, right?” Brent, the singer asks as he holsters his guitar around himself.
“Yes,” I say proudly.
“I want to get a few. Do you do custom?”
I nod. “I do. Do you have ideas?”
He nods back and strums on his guitar. “A couple. Do you have a card or do I just call you at Harmon?”
“You can call me there,” I say because I don’t have a card with me at the moment.
“Cool,” he replies with a smile.
“Break a leg,” I say as I walk away.
“I’m not an actor,” he says back, making me laugh.
My laughter cuts short when I see Shea walking into the party with Gia’s hand in his. I can feel my body burning from the inside, starting from the tips of my toes to the top of my head as I look around to see if I spot Nick. When I don’t, I close my eyes to hide my disappointment, but realize it feels more potent when I do this, so I open them again. Smiling, I walk over to Shea and greet him and Gia. I quickly introduce them to Jay and explain a little bit about him. Shea begins to tell him how much he loves his stuff and I feel relieved for Jay, whom I know must be a fan.
As they continue talking, Jay moves his hand around my waist. Shea notices this and makes a face at me but says nothing of it. I can tell he wants to say something, probably on his friend Shadow’s behalf. I almost roll my eyes, until I see Nick appear on the other side of the tent with a glass in his hand. I try to take a breath, but my lungs feel like they’re being clogged by my heart and possibly my kidneys, like there’s no room for air right now: system overloaded.
Nick doesn’t even look around; he doesn’t look like he’s looking for anybody. His aqua eyes spot me in less than a second and they stay on mine, unblinking. The way he looks in a tuxedo is too good for me to wrap my head around and his hair, normally brushed forward with a bit of a spike, is brushed completely back today. I really wish I could look away from him and pretend I’m not checking him out, pretend I don’t want my hands over the lapels of his jacket taking it off behind the nearest bush, but I can’t. I can’t because he owns me, and he knows it. And I hate it.
As Nick walks forward, his eyes trail slowly down my body, stopping at my waist where Jay’s hand is sitting. I know this from the way Nick’s jaw tenses. He throws back the drink with one large gulp and puts it down when he nears a table, picking up the pace to get to me. A moment of fantasy plays in my mind where I shrug Jay off and Gia and Shea part so that I can run in slow motion between them as Nick does the same to me and I jump into his waiting arms. That moment passes in one second when Jay pulls me to him, laughing at some joke Shea makes and Nick practically runs full speed at us.
“Brooklyn,” Nick says, grabbing the hand I have on my side, and pulling me to him. “May I speak to you for a moment?”
What am I supposed to say? No? I let the current that is my body take me to him, the way it always does, because there’s no denying the pull he has on me.
“Hmm,” I reply, looking into the pools of every blue-green color in the crayon box that paint his intense stare.
“I’m Jay,” Jayson says as an introduction to Nick. “I’m a huge, huge fan of yours, Shadow,” he states.
Nick’s lips tilt into somewhat of a smile, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. He nods. “Thanks, I’ve seen you on YouTube, good stuff,” he says cordially.
I hear Jay’s intake of breath behind me, as if he can’t believe Shadow has heard of him. I would laugh if it weren’t for the fact that my heart has now started beating at a ridiculously fast pace, and I think I may throw up the vodka tonic I drank. Nick pulls me away from them, telling them we’ll be back and takes me to the dance floor, where there are now several people dancing to Brent’s music. He’s singing Bob Marley, which isn’t technically breaking the rule since it’s not his music, but I know my mom is going to send somebody to complain soon enough because the artist is not living nor in the room.
Without asking, Nick pulls me into his chest and begins to move, circling an arm behind my back and holding me so that all I can breathe is him. Closing my eyes, I lay my head on his chest and sway along with him.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he whispers into my hair. “Most gorgeous woman here tonight.”
My heart skips a beat, because it sucks and it doesn’t understand that when it’s broken it can’t skip beats.
“I’ve missed you so much, Brooklyn,” he continues as the song changes.
I recognize this one as “Trouble” by Ray LaMontagne, and I’m glad that I saw him in the crowd earlier, so I know it won’t be interrupted.
I move my head further into his chest, making myself comfortable there as we continue to dance slowly.
“You said some really messed up things to me,” I whisper, knowing he can hear me.
“I’m sorry,” he says instantly.
I’ve never had somebody apologize so quickly for their fuck ups, usually it’s like pulling teeth to get a half-assed apology from somebody, so I stop dancing and look up at him to see if he’s serious. He smiles at me, that slow grin that makes the butterflies in my core act like it’s a cracked-out field day.
“I’ve been saaaved by a woman,” Nick sings, still smiling. He repeats the words along with Brent, and then lowers his mouth to my ear. “She won’t let me go. She won’t let me go, no,” he croons, his raspy voice making the last bit of breath I had leave my body.
“You can’t sing to me,” I scold softly, not meaning it.
Nick laughs and brings his face close to mine, and I can almost taste his lips on me. Almost. His breath smells like whiskey and I don’t normally drink that, but I want to get drunk in his kiss so bad, that I don’t mind it. He sighs, backing away from me and turning me as the song comes to an end, but bringing me back to him when the new one starts. Brent plays his guitar a little faster now and his band mate joins him. For a moment I don’t think I’ve heard the song, until Brent begins to sing the beginning and I know it’s by Del Amitri. I really, really hope Nick doesn’t sing this to me because I’m not sure I can hold back my tears if he does.
He holds me even closer than before, placing his mouth right below my ear. He kisses me there, and it’s a whisper of a kiss, barely there, but enough to make my insides flame with want for him.
“Tell her not to cry, I just got scared, that’s all. Tell her I’ll be by her side, all she has to do is call,” he says, singing below my ear, his breath tickling my neck, making me shiver as tears form in my eyes. He continues to sing the song to me in his raspy, sexy voice and when he reaches the last part, I completely forget anybody else exists but us. “Tell her nothing if not this, all I want to do is kiss her,” he sings and kisses my neck again, more obvious this time.
When the song is over and people are clapping for Brent, I wipe carefully under my eyes, hoping I didn’t smudge any makeup.
“Can we talk?” Nick asks, his eyes intense and hopeful.
My thoughts wrestle with my feelings over this, even though I know I can’t deny him when he’s standing in front of me. Finally, I nod, but hear my name being called just as I agree.
“Brooklyn, I need you for five minutes,” Hendrix says, his voice as apologetic as his eyes when he glances from me to Nick.
“I’m not going anywhere … without you,” Nick says, and I smile.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper.
***
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed just how much people talk at these parties, but as I stand here pretending that I’m paying attention to the man Hendrix introduced me to, I keep wondering when he’ll shut up. Jay is beside me, with his hand on my waist again, and I swear I think he does it more out of nervousness than actually wanting to hold me there. His eyes are wide and attentive when people speak to him and he responds as soon as they ask him anything, which is how I know this. My mind, however, keeps drifting to Nick and what he wants to say to me. I’ve decided it doesn’t matter anymore, none of it does.
The moment I saw him step in the room today, I just knew, and I’m not going to keep punishing myself by keeping him out of my life if he’s who I want to be with. It’s stupid, really. Yes, I’m scared, but love is scary. There is nothing about realizing that you want to hand over your heart to somebody that’s not scary.
Take my heart, you’re free to do whatever you want with it, including break it, rip it, shred it, and dislodge it from yours, but I’m going to give it to you anyway because I think you’ll take good care of it. I don’t think anybody has ever said that to another person because if they did they would be a little weird, but that’s pretty much what I’m going to say to Nick, just not in so many words. I didn’t need time away from him to know that I loved him, I knew it the moment he argued with me about whether or not you’re supposed to stop or gun it at a yellow light. I knew it the moment he let me eat the little chocolate they left for us at the hotel instead of asking me to share it with him. I knew it the day he took me to his parents’ house and let me see the way real, close-knit families live. And I knew it when I saw the pain in his eyes as he was recalling the day he took me to the hospital when Isaac found me on that bridge. I love him, I know I do, and I think he loves me too. And if he’s willing to massage my feet every night, I think I’ll keep him. How many things happen in the course of a life? How many broken promises and happily ever afters can you be promised before you realize that you’re supposed to take it upon yourself to find your own happiness?
“Brooklyn?” Hendrix says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
I slap his hand away. “What?” I ask.
“You’re not paying attention,” he mutters. “I was saying that I’m going to take Jay to talk to Dad, so we’ll see you later … unless you wanna come.”
I shrug and make a face. “No, I’m fine. Have fun.”
Jay shoots me a look as if he wants me to go with him.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask him, feeling just a little bit bad about ditching him.
“You think I’m good?” he asks, needing reassurance.
“I think you’re better than good,” I say with a smile.
Stepping out of the other side of the tent, I decide to look for the bathroom before I talk to Nick. I need to calm myself down and figure out what I want to tell him.
“Hey, Bee,” Nina says, walking over to me in her green dress.
“Hey, you look beautiful. It fits perfectly,” I comment.
She smiles. “You too. Nick is looking … oh, forget it, he’s by the bathroom. He was looking for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Sooo …” she says.
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Are you going to tell me not to give him a chance?” I ask.
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Have you fucking seen him in that tux?”
I can’t help it, I laugh. “You’ve been all woman power, we don’t need men. What happened?”
“Uh … Nick in a tux happened,” Nina states obviously, then laughs. “I saw you guys dancing … I think I was wrong about him.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You gathered that from one dance?”
Nina hugs me. “Oh, Brooklyn, I gathered that from the look you gave each other at the club that night. I gathered that from the way you danced with him back then and from the way you spoke to each other at the studio when I went with you. It’s just … you. I dunno, you guys have that thing,” she says into my neck. “I want you to be happy. I’m just scared that if anything happens and you’re not, you’ll … you know.”
“Spiral down? Become a drug addict … again?” I say lightheartedly.
“Yes,” she replies sadly, squeezing my hand. “I still want to kick his ass for lying to you, but maybe he didn’t. I dunno. Shea seems to think he didn’t,” she adds with a shrug.
I smile. “You spoke to Shea about it?”
Nina narrows her eyes at me slightly but smiles. “Don’t judge me! Shea and Nick are together like twenty-four seven, and Shea is a shit liar so he was bound to spill the beans if there were any to spill. I really think Nick means well, Bee. Just be careful though.”
“I’ll be fine,” I whisper, smiling at her. Thankful that she cares enough about me to be a little sleuth and check on things for me.
Her brown eyes search mine before she kisses my cheek. “Good.”
I take a breath and walk toward the bathrooms—they’re off to one side in the pool cabana. Nick is leaning against the wall watching me as I walk up, his eyes leaving no part of me uncovered. I cross my arms over my chest, rubbing my arms to keep from shivering, even though I’m not physically cold. Nick kicks himself off the wall and strides toward me as I stop in front of the bathroom door.
“I’m going to-” I point at the bathroom.
He nods, his eyes boring into mine, as he continues to walk toward me. I turn around and open the bathroom door, my heart wild against my chest when I feel his chest against my back. I gulp loudly as he pushes us both inside the bathroom and closes the door behind us. His lips land on the back of my neck, creating a flurry of heat in my core. In an instant my breath is coming in heavily, my lids lowering as I look at our reflection in the mirror: the top of his light brown hair slowly making its way from my neck to my shoulders. He presses the front of my body into the vanity and bites behind my neck.
“I swear on all that is holy that if that fucking kid touches your ass one more time, I’m going to cut his hand off,” Nick says, his voice husky as he nips along my exposed shoulder.
“Nick, stop,” I say breathily, knowing that the sound of his voice and the words coming out of it will be my undoing if I let him continue. “We haven’t talked about what happened.”
“We’ll talk soon,” he says, his voice strained.
I want to leave it at that, but the thought that he’s put those lips, MY lips, on another woman is driving me insane.
“Did you sleep with her?” I ask, hoping I don’t need to specify. His mouth stills on my shoulder and he brings his eyes up to the mirror so they bore into mine.
He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes. “The fact that you can even think to ask me that tells me that you don’t know how crazy I am about you.”
I let out a relieved breath and nod, breathing heavily again when he places his lips on me, a little rougher this time. Smiling, I throw my head back so that he can kiss back up my neck.
“You are … the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever seen, you know that?” he asks quietly as his hands pull up the silk skirt of my dress. He moves his hands up the back of my legs and palms my ass, rubbing slowly and biting my earlobe at the same time. “So beautiful,” he whispers, moving his hand to my front and sliding it into my thong. He slips a finger inside me and begins to draw circles over my clit, my knees buckling at the feel of it.
“I want you out of this dress,” he says, his ocean eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. I can see the depth of his desire in them and it makes me bite my lip and move against his fingers, wanting it as much as he does. “So hot,” he groans as his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lip as his fingers find my spot, rubbing until he makes me come. He licks his fingers and turns my body around kissing me deeply, his tongue traveling along my mouth as I wrap my arms and legs around him, gripping the top of his hair and pulling his face closer to me, as if it were possible for him to ever be close enough. He sets me down on the sink and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on the floor beside us before untying his black bow tie and unbuttoning his top button, breathing harshly as if he can’t get enough air but looking at me like I’m more important.
He unbuckles his belt, dropping his pants and boxers to his knees and rips my thong off without second thought, making me squirm on the vanity. He chuckles at the surprise on my face and dips his head to devour my mouth again, inserting his fingers inside me as he does it.
“Why is he here with you, Brooklyn? Why is he touching you?” Nick asks, not able to let go of the fact that my date had his
hand on my waist. His lips whisper soft kisses over my chest and he pulls down the shoulder-less part of my dress with his teeth, his tongue instantly swirling around my bare nipple.
“Oh, Nick,” I breathe, throwing my head back when he thumbs over my clit again.
“Why, Brooklyn? Did you forget you were mine?” he asks, pulling my nipple into his mouth. “Do you need a reminder?”
I nod frantically, begging for a reminder from him, and he chuckles darkly, his eyes burning into mine. He drops his hand and swiftly replaces the loss of his fingers with his hard cock, making me gasp loudly at the feel oh him. He holds onto my hips as he drives into me.
“You’re mine, Brooklyn,” he says, his voice strained.
“Yes,” I yelp when he begins to thrust harder, deeper.
“Tell me, baby,” he demands in a whisper.
“I’m yours, Nick. Yours,” I say, my voice hoarse as we look into each other’s eyes.
He fucks me like he can’t let me forget that he’s the one inside of me. I wish I could tell him that he’s erased the memory of anyone else ever being inside me before him.
He brings his lips to mine again, kissing me sweetly and slowing his pace to languid thrusts that don’t let me breathe because of how good it feels.
“I don’t want to live without you anymore,” he says against my lips.
“Okay,” I agree.
“Am I forgiven?” he asks, pulling all the way out of me.
“Yes,” I whisper, but in my mind I’m screaming it.
He pushes all the way back in, making me arch my back and moan. “Awesome.”
And that’s how it feels when he takes me to ecstasy again.
We clean ourselves up and get dressed again. Nick shoves my underwear in his pocket and zips up his pants. I help him do his tie when he’s done buttoning up.