When it’s perfect, I go home to clean up and call my dad to ask him to dinner. We sit in a pub and drink beer while he watches a game and talks to me about the tour during commercial breaks. He knows something is up with me, but he lets me come to him when I’m ready to deal with my shit. He knows I just need to sit here with him so I don’t go crazy. Noely’s name never comes up, which is so unlike my dad, so it’s safe to assume he knows shit hasn’t gotten any better with her.
Since dad has to work tomorrow, we give each other a man hug at ten and go our separate ways. I think about her all the way home. I think of all the grand gestures I could orchestrate, but then I realize I’m not sure if I’m stuck in the friend zone or if I have a fucking shot at her being mine. So how in the fuck do I plan some heartfelt shit if I don’t know what I’m fighting for in the first place.
As if she knows I can’t stop thinking about her, I look up to find her headed towards my building.
"Noely?" I say her name to make sure I’m not hallucinating shit.
"Fuck you, Rome."
I stop at her obvious anger. Fuck, I was hoping she was calm today. I don’t know how to deal with pissed off Noely. I run my hand through my hair and sigh as I search for words.
"I know I deserve a lot of those, but you want to enlighten me on what this particular one is for?"
"I saw the mural. Your tag is on it."
"I'm not apologizing for that one," I stand firm.
She came to fight and I can’t fight her. I told her everything through her door the other night, so I don’t have anything else left to fight with. I gave her my all and it wasn’t good enough. So, I avoid the confrontation all together and walk inside my building. She surprises the hell out of me when she jumps into the elevator with me.
She’s really going to force this shit with me.
Fuck, Noe. I don’t want to fight, baby.
She pushes me in the chest, forcing me back a step, "It wasn't yours to fix!"
She continues to yell and push me. Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen her like this. But goddamn if it doesn’t turn me on at the same time it breaks my heart.
"It wasn't your art! It wasn't ready to be fixed! That once again wasn't your decision to make!"
She tries to push me again, but I’m so fucking turned on and pissed off that I grab her wrists to stop her from pushing me anymore. I spin her around and push her into the corner behind me.
I get in her face and force myself not to scream at her, "It was mine to fix."
"No, it wasn't.”
I touch her face with one of my hands, "Too goddamn beautiful to have a smeared face. You've been one of us a long time. Just as long as anyone else in our crew, you earned your fucking place on that mural. But I'm glad you smeared it, because you didn't do you justice on that wall."
She opens her mouth, no doubt to argue some more, but nothing comes out. I look down at her lips and before I can finish the thought my lips are on hers.
My tongue seeks entry with some force, and she lets me in. Our tongues dance with each other and both of our hands push through hair. I grab a hold of her ass and pull her up my body. She wraps her legs around me and when the elevator door opens, I walk us down to my door without letting her out of the kiss.
I press her against the door and dig for my keys. I push the door open and slam it with my foot before I take her to my bedroom. We touch each other like we’ll never get another chance and pull on each other’s clothes until we’re both naked. I pull my lips from her and press a kiss to the center of her chest before I wrap my arms around her middle. I pick her up and throw her on the bed.
Once I suit up, I crawl between her legs, and pull her towards me. I want to take my time with her again, but she’s clawing at me and I’m fucking desperate for her. I push inside her and close my eyes before I start fucking her like there’s no tomorrow. I grab a handful of hair and pull on it until she’s looking at me.
"I'm not sorry about the mural.”
"It wasn't your fucking place,” she says and bites down hard on my lip which only causes me to speed up my pace.
The anger is trying to take over the desperation.
"You never used to get mad, but you're fucking hot when you're pissed. I like it. I want to fucking spank your bare ass sometimes. You drive me insane," I say between clenched teeth.
"You fucking know everything don't you? You're such an asshole!" she yells.
I’ll show her an asshole. In one fluid motion, I pull my dick out and flip her onto her stomach. I immediately pull her gorgeous ass into the air and have to stop myself from spanking her. I’d love to spank the fucking anger right out of her.
I push my dick into her and grab onto her hips causing her to shout out, "Fuck!"
I fuck her harder than I’ve ever fucked in my life, every thrust fueled by my anger at her refusal to listen to me. Her refusal to love me. I’m pissed that I lost her and she doesn’t care.
"You always have such a hard time letting people care for you. Stop that shit!" I yell and then the desperation and despair show up unannounced and unwelcome. The last few days have taken their toll. I can’t do this with her anymore. The emotion clogs up my throat, causing my voice to break, "I'm tired of it Noely... And I'm fucking dying."
I’m dying without her.
I stop moving inside of her and lean my chest down to her back. My arms circle her waist so I can hold her close. I want to feel her. My lips place sweet kisses on her back.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Noely baby. I'm so sorry. Please stop shutting me out. I know I fucked up. I won't do it again. You're killing me with the distance and silent treatment. It's fucking killing me."
Take me back. Take me back in any way you’ll have me.
She doesn’t respond to my grief. It hurts to think that I’m dying inside, but she doesn’t care. I begin to move again and her soft moans fill my ears. I wish I could record her and listen to it any time I pleased. She doesn’t want me, but she’ll take my body.
"I'll give you this," I whisper into her ear.
I give her what she wants. I give her what I need. I don’t fuck her again. I love her. I show her what it’s like one more time before she walks out of my life. It’s coming and I can’t stop it. At least I’ll have this.
“There,” she says and then she clenches around me.
Her head leans back on my shoulder, giving me a front row seat to watch her come.
Fucking beautiful.
My lips run down her jaw line as my orgasm begins to pulse through my body, "I'm with you."
Just like I knew she would, she leaves me. She leaves me even though I beg her not to. I plead with her not to send me out into the world like this. I can’t do this tour shit without her. She screams about losing her job and finding herself, and all I want to shout back is that I found her fifteen years ago. I know her. I love her.
I see her Saturday before we leave Brooklyn. I hug her tightly before the bus departs and whisper a few words of well-concealed love.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The first four months of the tour are pure hell. For the first time in fifteen years, I live without Noely. I have no contact with her. I send a text not long into the tour, and her reply is cheerful and full of encouragement. I tell her I miss her and in reply she tells me she misses all of us. She doesn’t miss me. She doesn’t feel the same.
Her Twitter and Facebook has almost no activity for the first month on tour, so I spend my time looking down at all the old pictures of us she has in her albums. I go back through the conversations we posted on Twitter while we were in the same room, all of them hilarious.
Fuck, I miss her.
A little over a month after the tour begins, she begins to post pictures of tattoo work. It takes me several moments to realize and accept that the picture is of her arm. It seems like she adds a new tattoo to some sort of Banksy tribute sleeve on her arm every few weeks. Then the pictures are of her and
Sabrina from the tat shop going out like twenty-something girls do. It takes a while for me to notice the nose piercing on Noe, but I smile when I think about her all of a sudden getting pierced and tattooed.
Maybe we, mainly I, were holding her back. Maybe she needed time to find herself outside of our domineering presences.
She posts pictures of her doing yoga in the park and checks in at Krav Maga classes. I watch as her body changes subtly in her pictures. Her body was banging before, but she’s toning the shit out of it now. I want to like her pictures so she knows I’ve seen them. I want to comment and tell her how beautiful she is, how much I love the piercing and tattoos, and how happy she looks. I don’t.
I walk out of the room when the boys talk about her. When they speak her name and talk about the conversations they’ve had with her, I feel as though I’m intruding. Like I’m hearing things not meant for me, almost as if I’m hearing the words spoken between lovers. These words aren’t meant for the outside world to hear. In many ways, I guess it feels that way because we all love her. I love her differently than they do, but they do indeed love her and she loves them back. I’m not a part of that relationship anymore. The dynamic between the group has shifted, and I’m standing on the outside.
A little over a month into the tour, I walk from the back of the RV into the kitchenette area only to hear the sound of Noely’s laugh coming from Rich’s phone.
“You need to put on more clothes when you go out with those two girls,” Jimmy speaks loud enough for her to hear him.
“Okay, daddy,” Noe replies.
My thoughts reel. What the fuck is she wearing when she’s going out?
“Don’t accept drinks from strangers,” Ryan adds.
“Yes, father,” Noles giggles.
The obsessive negative thoughts take over. What if someone drops some shit in her drink? I won’t be there. None of us will be there. Someone will hurt her again, and I can’t stop it because I’m on this fucking tour.
I slam my fist into a cabinet and all heads turn to look at me, but that part of me, the part that vowed to keep her safe long ago keeps clawing at my insides. He’s my biggest demon, a monster that has held me in his clutches for fifteen years.
My breaths come out too fast and my body begins to shake as horrible images of Noely flash through my mind.
“Fuck!” Jimmy says, but my vision is already going blurry.
“I’ll call you back in a bit, Noles,” Rich says.
“Fucking breathe, Johnny,” Jimmy says as he cups his hand to the back of my neck.
“I…,” I swallow and search for my words. “I… can’t save her.”
“Easy. Noely is safe. She’s perfectly fine,” he tells me.
I shake my head. What if she’s not? It can all change at the drop of a dime. It would only take one fucking second for someone to destroy my world.
“Let’s get you down to the floor,” Jimmy offers and then helps guide me down. “Head between your legs.”
It’s not helping. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. I can’t seem to stop the violent images of Noely flashing across my eyes. I can’t stop the anxiety. I’m too far away from her.
“Go to that place, man. Go to the place you fucking go to get through this shit. Close your eyes and fucking go there,” Jimmy softly orders.
I close my eyes and find the horrible images of her still there.
Rich’s voice interrupts the brutal film in my head, “Think of her. She’s the one who calms you. Remember what she does.”
My fingers start to tingle and spread into my hands. I concentrate the best I can on her voice. The way I remember it sounding while her hands run through my hair. The softness of her tone, so soft it’s almost a whisper. The words of encouragement, and the feel of her skin against mine as she holds me, helps me slow down the attack.
“I’m here, Johnny. Breathe for me.”
She puts one hand on my cheek while the other runs through my hair, resulting in the most relaxing feeling. Her legs straddle mine while my back is against the wall and I open my eyes to see her smile.
That smile can undo me any day of the week.
“There you go,” she smiles even bigger.
My breathing slows, the tingles being to subside, and the pain in my chest isn’t so suffocating anymore.
“You need to see someone, Johnny,” she tells me again, like she has a million times before.
“I do. I see you.”
Jimmy begs me to let him tell her, but I just shake my head and refuse to talk about her. The shit between me and Noe goes way beyond what Jimmy did. We’re way past that, and telling her now won’t fix a damn thing. It probably wouldn’t have fixed shit then either, not once I slept with her. Our worlds shifted that first time. I wasn’t willing to accept it, but I was willing to force it. I was willing to force my love, either as her man or her friend, but I was willing nonetheless. I couldn’t force it, and I came unglued. I’m still torn apart. I don’t know where I fit anymore.
Being on this tour without her and hiding every time her name is said, has forced me to realize she’s the glue that holds us all together. I think I knew that in a way before all hell broke loose, but now it’s more apparent than ever. God knows she’s my adhesive, and I’m not my best self without her. I’m miserable.
I fend off women for four months. None of them look remotely like her. Jimmy isn’t even pushing pussy in my face like he has since the ninth grade. He knows why I’m so dismal. I feel like I live under a constant rain cloud, never seeing the sun. I can’t enjoy its warmth. It doesn’t feed my energy or creativity. I’m fucking lost.
A little over four months in, I wake in the early morning hours and say Noely’s name. I shake my head, hoping to rattle the memory or dream that caused her name to slip out. I feel like it’s right there dangling in front of me. I just can’t seem to touch it.
I crawl out of my bunk and sit up front with the driver, hoping the company will keep another panic attack at bay. I light up a cigarette and let my thoughts wander to her. They always do.
Fuck, I miss her.
“Call her,” Rich says from behind me.
“I wake you?”
“No.”
I nod in response for lack of anything else to say.
“She’s up,” he says a few moments later.
“This late?”
“Yeah. She was out with Sabrina. Call her.”
I swallow instead of speaking, because I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid to call a woman in my life.
“She doesn’t want to hear from me,” is my excuse.
“I can sit here and listen to you be a pussy, and go along with your excuses, but I wouldn’t be your friend if I did that. Fucking call her, Johnny. End this shit. She needs it as much as you do.”
Once he’s said his piece, he walks back to his bunk.
I look over at this cat, Aaron, we picked up along the way. He’s our driver/roadie. I can’t call her with him sitting here. If I walk back any further into the bus, they’ll all hear my conversation.
“Putting my ear buds in, so don’t use me as an excuse,” he says as if he can read my mind.
Fuck it. I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts. I stare at the picture attached to her contact. I think it was taken a few weeks before I lost her. She’s kissing me on the cheek and I’m crossing my eyes.
I took for granted how beautiful she is… inside and out.
I press the green phone button and silently hope she doesn’t pick up. What could I possibly say that hasn’t already been said?
Her sweet voice answers, “Hello?”
“Noely,” I almost sigh in relief when I hear her voice.
“Hey,” she says sweetly.
“Did I wake you?” I ask unsure what else to say next.
She laughs, “I actually just got home.”
I look at the clock on my phone, “It’s what
? Two a.m. there?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
She sounds different. She sounds… happy. She sounds strong.
“You sound different,” I say.
“I feel different.”
“I hear the guys,” I admit.
“I hoped you would.”
She did?
“I’m glad you’re seeing someone. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Noe.”
She sighs and says, “I’m just looking for me.”
The emotion wells up in me. Why doesn’t she see herself? I see her so clearly. We all do. What did I do wrong all these years? Didn’t I show her?
“I wish you saw you, the way I do. The way we all do,” I say feeling like a failure.
“Me too. I guess that’s what I’m trying to find. I’m already happier though.”
That makes me smile, “You deserve happiness, Noely baby.”
“You do too, Johnny Love.”
“Johnny Love?” I chuckle at her nickname.
“You guys always call me Noely baby, so I’m going to start calling each one of you something sweet,” she giggles.
Her giggle makes me smile so fucking big. I haven’t smiled like this since the night I found her beaten by Tony. The mere sound of it makes it feel like a load has been taken off my shoulders. “Have you been drinking?”
Under the Cornerstone Page 24