by Lyssa Layne
Groaning, I glanced down and see I'm no longer wearing Joy-Anna’s dress. Instead, I'm wearing one of Presley’s t shirts. He's still fully dressed. I struggle to sit up, ignoring the pain in my head and stomach.
This isn’t good. I don't even remember how I got here. The last things I can remember from last night are the shots I drank. I had so many of them, and I vaguely remember dancing with Joy-Anna. We sang aloud to all the songs the DJ played. We had a good time and now I’m paying for my foolishness.
This is so embarrassing. I try to keep quiet, but I need some Tylenol badly. I try to stand up and it takes all my willpower to achieve the minor feat. I'm dizzy and I want to cry. I step over Presley silently and he doesn't move. Opening the cabinet in the bathroom, I peek in at the shelves. Nothing. Hopefully, there's a bottle in the kitchen somewhere. I tip-toe into the kitchen and search Presley’s kitchen cabinets. My head is killing me. I finally locate some Advil in a basket beside the coffee maker.
Sitting at his kitchen table to help with my dizziness, I swallow down two with a huge glass of ice cold water. My stomach is growling, and despite how crappy I feel, I'm hungry. I cross my arms on the table, resting my head on them, and close my eyes. The apartment is very quiet. The only noises I hear are muffled, coming from the apartment next door. I feel terrible about leaving Presley sitting on the floor. This is the first time I’ve ever felt like this. Hangovers suck.
''Abbie.'' Presley lifts me off the chair. ''I’m putting you in bed. It's a little more comfortable than the kitchen table. Leave your eyes closed, you can keep sleeping.''
He lays me down on the mattress, covering me with a comforter. I watch as he takes off his jeans and t-shirt before he joins me in bed. He wraps his arms around me, holding me firmly. I take a deep breath, pleased to discover my head's doing better. ‘’Thank you, ’Ley, for taking care of me,'' I whisper. I'm so lucky to have him. Dean would have left me to lie in my own vomit all night, and he probably would have hurled a whole load of insults about being drunk. With Dean, it was all about being controlled. I was never allowed to have fun and be free. He was always there, dictating what I could and couldn’t do.
''No problem, Bee.'' I smile when he uses my new nickname.
We fall asleep together, in the comfort of his warm bed.
''Hey, lovebirds! Wake up! It's 4pm.''
''Joy-Anna, what the hell?'' Presley releases me and sits up. ''What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? Have you never heard of the word privacy?''
Wow... I open my eyes and see Joy-Anna, standing at the end of the bed.
''We called you, like twenty times already, and you didn't answer.''
I have to admit Joy-Anna has guts. It takes nerve to walk into someone’s bedroom. What if we were...?
''What's the problem?” Presley grumbles. “Abbie’s been sick all night. For Christ’s sake, give me a break.''
Presley sound so annoyed, I think he’s about to kick Joy-Anna out. I pull the covers over my head. How embarrassing. How can Joy-Anna be so happy and healthy-looking? She was even drunker than I was last night, and she looks perfect. I actually hate her right now.
''We wanted to know if you guys want to grab something to eat. We could wait for you to get ready. You both might need to shower.” Joy-Anna wrinkled her nose. “I can smell vomit all over the place.''
''Damn it, Joy-Anna, sometimes you are so annoying. Get out. Now. Give us an hour.''
She's laughing as she dances her way out of the apartment and I can even hear her whistling. I definitely hate her.
''Sorry, Bee, I didn't ask your opinion. Do you want to go? We could just stay here and that would be fine too.''
''I’ll go where you go, Presley.'' I'm not feeling a hundred percent yet, but I'm a lot better after some sleep.
''I don't want them to be too overwhelming for you. I know it's a lot to take in, being around them all the time. Sometimes I need time off from my family, too. Don't hesitate to tell me when you feel like it's too much.''
I’m touched that Presley is offering me the chance to be part of his family and I know I will never refuse to hang out with them. I'm so proud to be the one he wants to share them with. My own family was destroyed a long time ago.
''I’ll let you know, if it ever becomes a problem.'' I kiss the tip of his nose. ''Come on now, lazy boy. Get your ass in the shower.''
''Yes, Ma’am,” he smirks.
He strips off his boxers and walks to the bathroom naked. I stare longingly at his ass, but I’m too tired to get up. ''Hot. Damn, you’ve got a sexy booty.''
He turns to stare at me. ''Abbie, are you still drunk?'' I can't tell if he’s serious or he’s joking around. I giggle to myself. I'm obviously losing it. ''Maybe. I’ll get a cold shower when you’re done.''
While Presley is in the shower, I get up and take another leisurely look around in his apartment. The paintings on the wall are a real mix of styles, some of them are very dark and others are more colorful. I can recognize similarities to Joy-Anna and Joshua in some of the subjects. Each one of them tells a story. The one that stands out the most is a portrait of an older man. His expression appears defeated and I can see tears running down his cheek. I wonder if the portrait represents Presley’s father. The emotions are palpable in each and every one of his paintings. I’m amazed again by just how talented Presley is, in so many different ways. I walk over to where he does his tattoos and discover an album on his work bench. I open it and it’s full of pictures of tattoos, which I assume Presley has inked on his clients and friends. His talent goes beyond anything I have ever seen before. I’m no expert, but the colors, the shading, every single piece stands out as being special. There are a few portraits and they’re so lifelike, they look like photographs. Unbelievable.
Presley steps out of the bathroom and catches me looking through his album. I’m embarrassed, but Presley doesn't seem to mind. “I’m sorry, I was curious,” I admit.
''Are you looking for a tattoo, Ms. Rylee?'' he asks, looking amused.
''Um, no... Not today, anyway...'' I trail off, suddenly shy. I’ve never thought about having a tattoo, to be honest.
It’s something I’ll have to think about for a while though – getting a tattoo done is a major decision.
Kelly
I can't believe I'm waiting for Presley outside his apartment building. I'm so pathetic! I just really need to talk to him and try to fix things. We had a good time when we were together, right? I mean, we did, before I screwed everything up. I’ve walked all night, thinking about everything I want to tell him. My legs are sore and so tired. I’ve been sitting out here for nearly seven hours. I probably look like hell, but I have to see him. I haven't brushed my teeth or hair since the last time we met. I need a shower. Maybe I should forget this plan, and try to call him. If he’s with her, though, he most likely won't answer. I sit and bite my nails anxiously, convinced I'm losing it.
Finally, Joshua and Alicia come out, followed by Derek and Joy-Anna. Where the fuck is Presley? How come he isn’t with the others? They’re usually inseparable. I wait some more.
What the hell? Presley appears and he’s giving her a piggyback ride. He’s all smiles and she’s kissing his neck, totally enjoying this. I can see him reaching around… he’s trying to tickle her!
I think I’m going to be sick. She jumps off Presley’s back and starts walking beside him. What the hell does he see in her? I don't get it. I just don’t. He takes her hand, individually kissing each of her fingers. And to add to my misery, they both stop walking and start kissing. They need to get a fucking room.
Alicia is only few feet away from me and I watch her roll her eyes at them. “You two need to get a room,’’ she announces, mirroring my thoughts.
Presley never demonstrated that kind of lust for me, or that kind of passion... and it hurts so bad. I wear his ink on my body; his artwork. He can't take that away. I will always have a piece of him and there’s nothing he can do to change that.
; Joy-Anna grabs the new girl’s arms, obviously irritating Presley. “Come on, Bee. You’re riding with us.’’
What the hell? Bee? What kind of name is that?
Joy-Anna catches sight of me, and a split-second later, Bee sees me. She immediately turns to Presley with a worried frown on her face. Wow… geez. Everyone relax, it’s not like I’m going to kill anyone.
''Presley, I need to talk to you, please.'' I step towards him, hoping he’ll listen to me.
Joy-Anna studies me from head to toe. “You look terrible.’’
I assume that’s not a compliment. “I know, Joy, I know.''
Presley’s attention goes directly to his new toy, Bee. ''Wait for me in the car, Abbie. I won't be long, okay?'' She nods cautiously and slips away with the others.
Presley turns back to me. ''I thought I was clear last night, Kelly. I said I don't want anything to do with you. Why would you show up here?'' He looks pissed. ''I'm with Abbie now, and I won't ever come back to you. You and I, what we shared meant nothing... but Abbie… she means the world to me. I’ll deal with you professionally when I have to, but it won't ever be more than that. Understand?''
Fuck… I can’t control my tears, it shows how weak I am. It hurts so freaking much to know he doesn’t want me. ''I regret what I've done to you so fucking much. I just want you back,'' I sob.
Presley’s expression doesn’t change, despite my tears. ''It’s not going to happen, Kelly. Not now, not ever. Okay? Now please, leave us alone.''
I'm crying like an idiot, standing there on the sidewalk. I’m certain his family and friends are probably all sitting in the car watching us. I wipe furiously at the tears with the sleeve of my shirt. Presley salutes me and walks away. ''Don't bother calling, Kelly. I’ve blocked your number.''
''Fuck, Presley! Please don't do this,'' I beg.
''I already have, Kelly. Go home. Take a warm bath and chill out. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, and you’d better fucking behave when we work together.'' I can tell from the tone of his voice, he means it. I know if he put his mind to it, he could totally destroy me and my career. I’ll have to figure out another plan. I seriously doubt I’ll succeed, but I’m going to keep trying, I’m not willing to give up. There must be a way to win him back during the photo shoot. It's the last chance I have to succeed. He must have desired me at some point; maybe I could try to seduce him at the photo shoot. Pathetic as it is, I'm that desperate. I messed up what was probably the only chance I had with Presley, but I’m determined to find a way to get him back. I bitterly regret leaving him the first time, and I won’t make the same mistake again.
I walk back to my apartment, strip off my dirty clothes and sink into the bath with a glass of Jack Daniels, no ice. I try very hard not to cry, but I want to. Presley hurt me so much, and he made it obvious he doesn't care about me anymore. As much as I wish it wasn’t true, I can see how much he loves her. Who the hell is she? I decide I’m going to try and find out more about her. Social Media can be very useful sometimes.
I'm angry and frustrated and I don’t know what to do with myself. I just want to scream loud enough so Presley can understand how hurt I am.
Presley
I walk towards the car after blowing off Kelly. I’m still stressed about her approaching us for a second time. Inside the car, Abbie looks worried, Joy-Anna and Alicia seem pissed, and Derek and Joshua are silently laughing at my predicament. So many different emotions and all of them created because of me. The only ones I actually care about though, are Abbie’s.
I lean into the open window of the car. ''Guys, do you mind? I need to talk to Abbie in private before we leave.''
Joshua’s still chuckling to himself. ''I never thought you would have girl problems, Presley. Seriously, this is strange. You’ve gone from having nothing at all for years, to a perfect girl you want to keep and a crazy ass bitch you can’t get rid of. You need to figure this out.''
''Shut the fuck up, Joshua. Right now’s not a good time for your smart mouth to come into play.'' He can be such an ass sometimes. I catch Abbie’s gaze. ''Bee, come with me.'' I offer her my hand because I need to touch her, want to be certain that she isn’t mad. I don’t like the situation I’ve found myself in.
We walk a few feet away from the car, and I grip her hands in mine securely. Kissing them, I gaze into her eyes. She's waiting patiently for me to say something. I hesitate, knowing I have to find the right words. I don’t want her to think differently of me, because of the way I act when I’m around Kelly.
I take a deep breath and start talking. ''I don't want you to worry about her, Abbie. Kelly’s apparently decided that she made a mistake by dumping me. She’s trying to fix it, but what she doesn’t understand is that there isn’t any way to fix it. I don't care about her now. We were good friends for a while, but she screwed up everything. I think I made it pretty clear to her that I don't want to hear from her again.'' I pause, kissing her soft lips. ''There’s only you, Abbie. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. You're all I ever think about. Please, don't let her come between us,'' I beg.
''Presley, shut up.'' Abbie smiles beautifully, touching my bottom lip with her thumb. ''I know. I trust you.'' She sighs heavily, her eyes clouding with concern. ''I don’t like Kelly, I really don't. But I’m confident you’re telling me the truth about not wanting her. What we have together is special.''
I grin down at her, relaxing when I realize she’s okay about us. The last couple of days have been incredible. Abbie brings out the best in me. Her smile, her enthusiasm, her laugh, everything about her is amazing. I think my family and friends are bringing a lot of happiness into her life, too. It's like she belongs with us.
***
Two weeks later...
Abbie’s still sleeping soundly. She was talking in her sleep again last night. I think she’s nervous about Kelly and me working together today. I know I am. It won't be a pleasant experience, but I’m going to do my best to keep everything under control, and keep Kelly as far away as possible from me during the shoot. I haven’t seen or heard from her since the altercation outside the apartment, so hopefully she finally got the message that I'm not interested.
The shoot is being done in downtown Seattle, so I don't need to travel very far. I prepare my cameras and lenses while the models stroll around half naked. I’m glad I didn't insist on bringing Bee with me, it would've been awkward and very uncomfortable for her. I'm used to this type of photo shoot, but I don't think she’s ready to deal with it just yet. Not when our relationship is so new. I’m surrounded by lots of naked breasts, and other women wearing very tiny bikinis. Their bodies have been slathered in oil to bring out the colors of the tattoos on their skin. This shoot is all about the tats, so minimal clothing is appropriate for the day.
Kelly’s here, make-up on and her body oiled up, in preparation for the shoot. I have to admit, she has some amazing tattoos. I kind of wish I could ink Bee; I would love to be the one to mark her creamy skin, but it would be terribly distracting. It would mean the world to me and it would be such an honor. We would have to start with something small. A bee, maybe? I don't know. I've been thinking about asking her if she would like one, but for some reason, I'm hesitant to bring up the subject.
Joy-Anna is working with the models. There are twelve girls altogether; it’s going to be a busy day. We’re already behind schedule and I haven’t even taken a shot yet. The director was late arriving, and the setup wasn't ready. We’ll have to work extra hard to catch up on lost time.
I'm about to start working with the first model. She’s completely naked, I'm a hundred percent sure that she has implants, because her breasts can't possibly be that big naturally. Good morning, Presley! Let’s get to work. God knows I like tattoos, but this is a bit much, even for me. I wouldn't have gone that far with inking her. I don't think she has a single square inch of virgin skin visible, and given that I can see every inch of skin, that’s saying a lot. Joy-Anna is standing beside me, and
Kelly is not too far from us. She’s keeping her distance for now, but I’m aware she’s been eyeing me for a while. I'm simply not interested in talking to her. I'll take her photos, that’s what I’m here for.
''Abbie just sent me a text message,” Joy-Anna announces. “She said to tell you she might drop off some lunch for you.'' Joy-Anna and Abbie are constantly in touch with one another and becoming close friends.
I rub my fingers against my temples. ''I'm not sure that’s such a good idea, Joy. It might be a little too much for her, don't you think?''
Joy-Anne rolls her eyes. ''Presley, they’re all covered in tattoos, it's not like you can see anything.'' God, she's so absurd sometimes. Whether they’re covered in tattoos or not is beside the point – they’re semi-naked or completely naked – and that’s what I’m worried about.
''Whatever, Joy...''
Time flies. Joy-Anna is doing some touch up work on some of the models make-up. Kelly's standing nearby, drinking an orange juice. She looks tired, and she’s acting weird. I wonder if she’s drunk. It wouldn't surprise me. She’s probably added vodka to the orange juice. Typical Kelly.
Lunch break's approaching, and I'm anxious about seeing Abbie. While I can't wait to see her, I’m apprehensive because the set isn’t like the one she saw in New York. This one's definitely hotter. I don't give a damn about the girls, but I know the nudity could offend some people. It’s just another day at work for me – I used to tattoo these girls, and now I'm taking their photographs. That’s all it is for me, but I know Joshua would kill to be here today.
By the time Joy-Anna has finished the touch ups, the girls are requesting more water. Joy-Anna offers to go out and get some more water bottles for the girls. She normally doesn't do these little errands, but I guess she wants to make the girls happy for once. When she’s working, she’s fierce, and I suggest people don’t mess with her. She doesn't care if you don't like the way she does your makeup. She knows what she’s doing, and you don't. That's basically how she thinks… at work, anyway. She's talented, I’ll give her that.