Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set

by S. K. Logsdon

  I change it to Nick at Night and Friends is on. Most likely the only good show on at three in the morning. This is the episode in season one where Joey teaches Ross how to dirty talk. So funny and brings me instantly back to the dirty talking with Johnathan. Oh that was such a sensual and meaningful night that happened two weeks ago. After the initial heartbreak, I think I am doing fairly well for myself. I’ve come to accept the one-night stand for what it was and lock it away in a special place in my heart and my mind. It’s painful to draw back on now but I think as a few months pass and the tour is over I’m sure it will become more of a fond ‘What if’ memory instead of the ‘he lied and has done this with ten other girls’ memory that it’s at right now.

  I toss the blanket down over my body off the back of the couch and snuggle myself in for a good twenty more minutes of Fiends and probably another episode after that. Maybe I can fall asleep but my mind has been racing with so much since I’ve been back home. Tomorrow I need to call my gyno and set up an appointment this week. It’s been fifteen months since my last check up and I am sure he’ll need to re-examine my endo and run a panel for STD’s. I just pray that I don’t have any. Stacy swears that Johnathan was tested six months ago and all came back clear but that means he’s had six months to accumulate all those not so fun STD’s. Maybe one of the five women he fucked the week before I got there gave him something. Damn! I have to stop thinking about that. I have to stop thinking about the fact that a woman was sucking his cock five whole days ago. She might not have gotten him off according to Deacon but she was sucking it. That’s bad enough. Jesus, listen to me. I have got to stop this obsession. My pussy has one overly fantastic sexcapade and she can’t help but make me think about him. It’s gotta stop. Now!

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Wake up honey.” I feel a nudge at on my arm. “Honey get up and go back to bed.”

  I know that wonderful voice. That calming, sweet, loving voice. I stretch my arms over my head and open my eyes.

  “Hi mom,” I smile.

  “Hey honey it’s early but you should go back up to bed.”

  I push myself up into the sitting position tugging the blanket with me. Hum... Guess I fell asleep on the couch.

  “I don’t want to mom.” I rub my eyes, cleaning the sleep out of them.

  “I figured you’d say that, so here.”

  She hands me an oversized cup of Joe just the way I like it. Two teaspoons of sugar, a splash of milk and a sprinkle of hot cocoa on top. I know that must sound strange but the chocolate makes the flavor bolder. I can take it without but the cocoa sets it apart and my mommy is the best and knows me oh-so-well.

  “Thanks mama. You’re so sweet.” I sip the warm cup of heaven and she plops down beside me in her plaid pajama bottoms and white oversized T. I tuck my legs up so she can fit better and she pulls them over her lap. Sitting with my mama on the couch in house I grew up in. I don’t think this morning could get any better. I sigh with happiness.

  “So, I know I was asleep when you two got in last night but how was the flight? How’s Stacy?”

  “He’s good. I think. I’m sure he’s nervous about seeing his mom. It’s been like eight or nine months since he’s last seen her. Not that I blame him. If I had her as a mom I would probably write her ass off and leave her to the state,” I blurt.

  “Oh, Emily! Don’t say such things like that.” She pats my leg hard. “You know that’s not nice. Even though she’s not the nicest woman, she’s still his mother,” she scolds, but it’s my mom’s delicate way of scolding. It’s like she can make you feel bad without raising her voice. It works well for me and it brings my dad down to his knees when he’s been a bad boy. Many years of practice, I assume.

  “I know she’s his mother. That’s why I am here for him and to see you. But it doesn’t change the fact she’s a fucking bitch who’d I rather never see again in my entire life,” I say nastily.

  “There you go again talking just like your father. That mouth of yours has never changed.” She grins. Like she’d have us any other way? I think not.

  “Yep, like father like daughter.” I shrug and sling my free hand around my mom’s shoulder and pull her into a half hug.

  I seriously have the best mother on the planet. If Stacy didn’t have us when he was growing up I don’t think he could have survived his last two years as a juvenile and I’m surprised he survived before that. His mother was awful. She was beyond awful. She would binge drink all the time when he was a kid and being an only child like me he was left to pick up the pieces and many of the times that was his mom passed out of the floor in the bathroom sleeping in a pile of her own puke. Or other time’s she’d get hammered and beat him. A grown boy took it like a man when she’d leave welts with a belt or chuck shit at him. All because she blamed him for his father leaving them when he was only four. He doesn’t even remember the man. So his mom worked at the local gas station and fucked just about every trucker and backwoods hillbilly around for a pack of smokes, a case of beer or whatever else suited her fancy. Stacy had to work to buy his own clothes, car and first guitar. Which he can’t play as well anymore because right before he graduated his mother broke two of his fingers and they never healed right. Now that’s why I hate her. He’d spend many nights sleeping at my house or at Kyle’s a friend of his that just so happened to be my neighbor.

  I never cared for Kyle much. He was so possessive over Stacy, it was like if he was his friend I couldn’t be. Which was ridiculous because I never tried to split them two up from hanging out, ever. But either way we were both there for him, to shield him from that monstrosity of a woman Stacy calls his mother.

  “Can I make you some breakfast?” My beautiful mommy asks me. She is so damn sweet.

  Brushing her long dark brown hair out of her face, she tucks it behind her ears. My mom and I look nothing alike. I’m a short, curvy, wavy redhead with pale skin and green eyes. My mom is tall like five foot ten, thin as a rail, olive colored eyes, straight long brown hair and pale skin with freckles. She looks ten years younger than she actually is. So half of the time if people don’t know she’s my mother they assume we’re just good friends. It’s creepy but over the years I’ve gotten used to it.

  “No mama I’d love to help make some though. I’m sure Stace would love something homemade when he wakes up. We’ve been living out of the bus for weeks and him even longer and he’s yet to have a home cooked meal.”

  “Okay then.” She slaps me on the legs and shoves them over the edge of the couch. We both stand at the same time and go into the only real kitchen I’ve ever known like the back of my hand.

  I crack the eggs and beat them in a mixing bowl, she fry’s the bacon. And we both take turns pouring pancake batter into the Belgian waffle marker that I bought my mom five years ago for Christmas. It’s state of the art and cost me a pretty penny but knowing how much my mom and I love waffles it was well worth the investment for both of us.

  “Woo Wee… What smells so good in here?” Stacy says with a big smile standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His eyes have that sexy I-just-woke-up glow.

  “Making breakfast, doufus,” I tease, wagging the fork I’m whisking eggs with at him.

  “You’re making breakfast? Or is this sexy woman standing in the kitchen next to you doing it and you’re just taking all the credit?” He picks.

  “Oh, come here the son I never had.” My mom says and opens her arms for an embrace. He nearly runs across the room and snatches her up picking her up off the floor twirling her around. She laughs like a child and my heart melts to see the two most important people in my life so happy and in the same room at the same time.

  “Beautiful as ever mom. I’ve missed you.” He sets her down and kisses her cheek. The smile on both of their faces will forever be burned into my memories. I could almost cry at the happiness I feel at this very moment.

  “Now get back to work, wench, and make me my breakfast,” he says to me when he turns around and s
laps me hard on my behind. I yelp and he laughs as does my mother.

  I sit the eggs next my mom and her old but functional electric stove. I think that thing is older than me by maybe ten years but she loves it and for some stupid reason she refuses to upgrade. Part I think is the nostalgia but she swears it cooks better than newer stoves. Although I doubt that, because it’s not like she’s tried a new one out.

  “The docs office is just opening I think I should shoot them a call and see if I can get in today,” I say, heading toward the door to call my gyno.

  “No honey I talked to Stacy a few days ago and I already made you an appointment for today at one. Sorry I forgot to tell you. Completely slipped my mind,” my mom says hunched over the stove finishing up the scrambled eggs and bacon. Making the house smell fantastic.

  I shoot a look at Stacy. Please oh please don’t tell me he told my mom I had unprotected sex with Johnathan. That would so ruin this week for me. He smiles and shakes his head. It’s like he knows what I am thinking. Thank the lord she doesn’t know or she would kill me.

  We eat our breakfast at the farmhouse table. I eat two waffles and six pieces of bacon and a huge pile of eggs.

  “Jesus Em, are you from Ethiopia?” He teases and pinches my thigh under the table.

  “No I’m just starving. I haven’t had a real breakfast like this for a very long time.”

  “I can tell and you ate the whole plate of butterscotch cookies last night too,” He chuckles.

  Oh, no I didn’t! He did. I had three. He ate the rest and I am sure my mom had like twelve on the plate.

  “No I didn’t, you did. You always eat them all. You can blame eating too much breakfast on me but those cookies are all on you,” I giggle and steal a piece of bacon off his plate.

  “So ha!” I rip it between my front teeth, tormenting him. I know how much he loves bacon. Especially the thick cut that my mom always buys and fry’s up extra crispy, just like when we were kids.

  “So when are you going to see your mom, Stacy?” my mom asks, sipping on her coffee. She always takes it black.

  “I was thinking today sometime. Maybe while Em goes to the docs. I think I should go by myself first if that’s alright?” He looks at me for validation.

  “Ok. If you need me there I will be. You know that.” I reach over and give his hand that had the broken fingers a gentle squeeze.

  “I know you would. And that’s why I love you so very much. I just think it might be better for me to get it out of the way on my own. You hate her and I know she’s not your biggest fan.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

  “You two are so cute!” My mom squeals. She has been rooting for me to date Stacy since I can remember. But I’ve always said we are just friends. And up until nearly three weeks ago I thought he viewed me the same way. Things have seriously changed since then.

  “Yeah, well tell her that. I proposed marriage like fifty times and she keeps playing hard to get.” He nudges me with his elbow and chuckles, shooting me a sly smile. I resist the urge to slap him across the back of his beautiful head. So I go for a very hard pinch on his thigh instead. He rubs it and his leg is red, I can see it under the table. Serves his ass right!

  All the blood rushes out of my face. He can’t say that stuff to my mom. She will get her hopes up and there are no hopes to have up. I don’t want Stacy that way, EVER.

  “Mom, no he didn’t. I promise,” I blurt rather loudly and defensively.

  “Yes, yes I did. She swears I am the sexiest man alive and all but something bout’ the fact that I don’t make enough money and I sleep with too many women. I guess those are deal breakers for her,” he taunts me more.

  Oh this asshole! He can’t be doing this! Not here!

  “First off mom,” I shoot him a mean stare. “Don’t believe a thing he is saying. Yes, he sleeps with too many women but that’s not why we aren’t going to be together. We are JUST FRIENDS,” I pronounce tossing my hands over my chest, frustrated.

  My mom breaks into a loud and contagious laugh and I start in with her and soon so does Stacy and that breaks the tension I felt building inside of me.

  “You two are nuts,” she teases, stands and stacks the dirty plates to take them to the sink.

  “I can help clean up mom,” I say and stand up to help.

  “Nonsense, you two take your coffees and go enjoy the morning on the porch. Your dad greased the swings hinges so it should be nice and quiet.” She waves us off to leave.

  I meet Stacy on the porch, both of us still in our pajamas after I fill up my coffee. He doesn’t drink coffee so he’s sipping on hot chocolate with more marshmallows than hot chocolate. Something he’s loved since we were kids. I’d get the chocolate and he’d steal all of my marshmallows. Nowadays they sell the marshmallows separately and last year for Christmas I bought him a case and had them sent to him in the mail as one of his presents.

  I drop down beside him on the white, high back, floral cushioned swing my dad built.

  “So you decided taunting my mom this morning was the way to go about telling her that you are in love with me and that she should know?” I elbow him again in the side. This is so not over.

  “Do you seriously find your mom that naive, Em? That she hasn’t known how I’ve felt for years?”

  “Yes. Well… no not naive but I didn’t know. How could she?”

  “I think you chose not to see, sweetie. She’s no dummy. I’m sure she knows deep down already. I just like joking around with her and I like to get you all riled up,” he smiles, placing his cup to his mouth for a sip, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I stare over at Kyle’s house and I can’t help but think about when we were kids. He’s spent all his time split between my house and Kyle’s. Almost a switch off nightly.

  “What cha thinkin about?” He asks.

  “Kyle and us growing up. It seems so long ago. I never liked Kyle. I wanted to. But he was so intense when it came to you. I remember sitting on this porch swing one night when you were on his porch.” I point over to the Kyle’s. “You two were arguing about whose place you were staying at. He wanted you to stay and play Super Nintendo and you wanted to come back to my place. He ended up punching you in the arm and you two didn’t talk for like a week.”

  He laughs and tilts his head back. “Yeah that was some intense night.”

  “Do you still talk to him?”

  “Kyle? No, not for a few years. We lost touch four years ago right after I started working for Stricken.”

  “Is he married? Have kids?”

  He runs his fingers through his hair, his face grim. He seems uncomfortable talking about this.

  “Um… Kyle was gay so I don’t think he’s married unless it’s in one of those states that allows it and kids? I have no idea. Probably not.”

  Whoa! That was a brick seriously just thrown at my face. Kyle was gay? I never saw that. He was so intense, manly and dominate. But gay? Wow.

  “So… Did he know he was gay in high school? Or just afterwards?” I ask.

  I seriously want to know this. I have no problem with gay or bi or straight or blue or black or pink people. I could care less. People are people and as long as they are happy that’s all that matters to me.

  “Yes.” He blurts and runs his fingers through his hair again. He’s so nervous I can feel the anxiety radiating from him.

  “So…”

  He cuts me off. “Kyle was the first man I ever had sex with.”

  Holy shit! I knew I was right! Stacy is bi! Oh my god and nothing like telling me now after ten damn years. This is a month of revelations for him. Why I haven’t a damn clue but it’s like one brick wall after another. I take a deep deep deep breath in.

  “Oh…” I choke out. My mouth is dry all of a sudden. So I take a sip of my coffee.

  “So… was he your first all together? Or just your first guy?”

  He laughs nervously and tosses his head back again. I can tell this is a conversation he doesn’t
want to talk about. But I’m not letting up. He knows all about me. Well except my medical problem. But everything else he does.

  “You find out I’ve fucked a dude and the first question you ask me is that one? You don’t sound mad or angry or anything.” The surprise on his face is priceless.

  Well no shit I don’t. It doesn’t matter to me if he is gay or straight or bi. He’s still Stacy, my best friend, the second greatest man in the whole world to me. Right behind my father.

  “I kind of figured you might be bi Stace in Tucson when I found out you had a ‘night companion’ and you slipped up calling ‘it’, a him first.”

  “You don’t hate me or think I’m gross because I do guys as well as women?” he asks cautiously. His vulnerability is out and shining.

  “No, I don’t care. As long as you’re happy and you like it,” I shrug. I seriously have no idea what to say about that. I’m not comfortable talking about my best friend possibly bottoming for a bunch of men. Like buff Kyle, my old neighbor.

  “So if I told you my first sexual experience was with a boy and not a girl you’d not think I’m sick?”

  Smooth Stace, real smooth. Tell me that you had a dude before a chick by forming it in a question. That’s so not the way I wanted to hear this come out. I’d rather get it out and lay all the cards on the table. It can’t change things now anyhow. Not that I’d want to.