by Paige North
I don’t want to teach.
“Elena…?”
“Hmm?” Oh, I thought I answered him. “Um…” I turn toward him. “I, uh…don’t really want to teach, Dad. I didn’t go through everything to become a teacher.”
“You didn’t go through everything to become a couch vegetable either.” He chuckles. I may bite him at any moment. Clearing his throat, he goes on, “You don’t have to love it, cookie. It’s just a job. You can save money then try Nashville again later.”
“No Nashville.” Fuck Nashville. Fuck it with a fork.
“It’s $35,000 a year. How much were you making at the bar?”
“A lot less than that.”
“Well, it’s worth a shot, if you ask me. You might enjoy teaching music. Who knows?”
I won’t. I wanted to play, to sing, to have a recording contract, and I came too close to tasting the real thing. I can’t unsee what I saw, and now I’ll forever be telling students how I sang backup for Jayce Owens once and almost became a star.
“Anyway, it was just an idea.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll look into it.”
“Atta girl.” He pats my legs and gets up.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, cookie?”
“I love you.”
He smiles his crinkly blue-eyed smile and presses his glasses into place. “Love you, too.”
“Oh, and Dad?”
“Yep…”
“Why did you guys change my room?”
He shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “We never thought our girl would stop until she made it.”
The interview at Carver Middle wrenches my heart out. I smiled, gave them my qualifications, and said all the things you’re supposed to say, but I got the sense that the principal knew why I was there—because I failed Nashville. Because this is what losers do when they lose, they go back home with their tails between their legs and look for shitty jobs that no one wants to take.
Okay, that wasn’t nice. Some people might want to teach the clefs and scales to hormonal teens, but I don’t. My pride has been gutted. Had I fully understood how close to making it in the business I was when recording at Bluebird, I would’ve appreciated it more.
I was planning on stopping at a couple of apartment complexes after the interview to see if I liked any, but now I just want to go home and mope. The moment I turn down my parents’ street, however, I spot it—the black and silver Stingray.
Oh. Shit. So much for moping.
Slowly, I creep up the street, checking to see if he’s in his car, but it’s empty. OMG—he’s inside. Jayce Owens is inside my parents’ house! My heart begins to pound, my hands slick with sweat. Why is he here? How did he find me? I never gave him my home address, never had any reason to.
I park and walk up to the front door. No need for the key. The door is still unlocked. I open and peer inside. “Hello?” I hear voices in the back but no one notices me. Rather than announce I’m home again, I walk stealthily to see if I catch any fragments of conversations. The kitchen is empty, but voices emerge from the back room.
When I turn the corner, I can’t believe what I see. Jayce Owens, country music superstar, is sitting with my brother, Austin, on the couch, Xbox controller in hand, playing Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare. There are an infinite number of things I could say right now to make my presence known, but I can’t seem to voice any of them. I stand there gawking.
“Do you like using snipers or assault rifles?” Austin asks Jayce.
“Neither.” Jayce shrugs. “Sub machine guns and grenade launchers.”
“Nice…” My brother stares at Jayce play on his half of the screen. “Hey, man, how’d you get all those COD points?”
“ActiVision. They send me lots of stuff, give me points, camos, and all sorts of cool new things when they come out. I did a song for them once, for one of their new games in the beta testing phase.”
“No fucking way. Bro, that is so cool,” Austin says in awe.
“I’ll send you some codes.”
“What? Aw, you rock, man.”
“Ahem.” I interrupt the bromance in session. When they both look my way, I cross my arms and do my best to look stern, even though the little girl inside of me is thrilled to see his face again. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but he looks different. Older. More mature. “What are you doing here?”
“Elena!” My brother stands and points silently to Jayce behind his back with a shit-eating grin while Jayce sets down the controller, looking at me with trepidation in his eyes.
“Yes, I see, Austin. It’s Jayce Owens, back from the dead. What a miracle. We should rejoice and name a holiday after him. Easter? No, wait. Jayster? Oyster?”
I note the smirk on his face.
“You didn’t tell me it was Jayce Owens, Elena.”
“I did actually. You didn’t believe me, remember?”
“He’s going to give me COD codes!”
“Yay, your new best friend.” I leave the room, drop my bags into a kitchen stool, and open the back door. I need air before I faint. Grabbing onto the old, rusted swing set, I take a deep breath, smelling the beginnings of autumn creeping in through the afternoon breeze.
It’s not long before Jayce appears by my side. “I tried calling to let you know,” he says, his deep voice sending shivers through me. If I close my eyes, I can see him kissing me, pulling my ass closer to him. “You changed your phone number.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want you to find me.”
“Elena…” He takes my arm gently.
I shut my eyes tightly and try not to lose it.
“Stop. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” I pull away and sit in a swing, holding onto the rusted old chains. “You can’t just come here and expect me to be happy. You disappeared. You could’ve told me it wasn’t working, you could’ve told me you didn’t want to see me anymore. You could’ve told me any number of things, Jayce, but instead, you hid. Like a coward.”
“Yes, I know that now. But hear me out. My family’s been going through a lot. My mama…she was beat by my dad last month. He did her up good.”
I give him side-eye, but in my mind, the heavens open up. Did he just confess to what I’d overheard on the phone a month ago? Did it really take him this long to confide in me? It’s about damn time.
“Sorry to hear that,” I say softly. Hearing it from him makes it so real. What kind of person beats their wife, the mother of their child? How terrible for him, his mother, and his brothers.
“I’m not telling you so you’ll feel sorry or anything. I’m telling you now, because…well, there was no reason for me not to when it happened. You see, there’s a lot I haven’t told you.” He sits in the swing next to mine and rocks back and forth on his heels. To see this tall good ol’ boy sitting on a child’s swing, not realizing how cute he looks, endears him to my heart.
Which is no good. Warning lights go off in my head.
I say nothing, just let him speak. I’ve always believed in giving people the chance to be heard, even more so now that he’s taken a step toward real intimacy.
“I don’t talk much about my family, because honestly, I’m embarrassed. I didn’t come from a house like this, I didn’t have a porch swing or a white picket fence like that one over there. I came from shit, Elena. Pure shit. No running water, a violent, alcoholic dad, and a mom who couldn’t stand up for herself.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jayce. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But people judge you anyway, and the last thing I need is people hearing the dirt about my parents when I’m trying to make sure I never go poor again.”
“You could’ve told me that. I understand about not wanting to be poor again.” Although now I realize what I experienced as poor was nothing compared to Jayce. “I could’ve listened.”
“It’s other things, too, Shortcake.” He pauses and glances at me, as if gauging wheth
er he even has the right to still call me that after he disappeared from my life. “You’re strong, a go-getter. My mother wasn’t. I can’t tell you how much I respect you for the way you live your life, but I’m also used to a dad who dominated. And maybe I’m scared I’ll be the same way with you.”
I look at him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m not your mom.”
“I know you’re not, but the brain’s a hard organ to rewire.”
“We could’ve talked about it. We could’ve tried, rewired slowly, learned more about each other, but you bailed.”
“I shouldn’t have bailed. I realize that now. I was…I was scared, that’s all. Scared this luck I’ve gotten won’t last long, scared people will find out I’m not the amazing talent they think I am, scared I’ll lose it all.”
“It won’t happen,” I tell him, twisting my swing to face him. “You’re not your dad. You’re your own person. And your mama must be a better woman than you think to raise you right and different from your dad. You can’t take the blame for his actions. You can only be responsible for your own.”
Jayce’s stare fills with something I’ve never seen before. He’s not the big man on campus or the hotshot asshole he was the first days I met him. “I don’t deserve you. I know I’m completely unworthy.” He reaches out and takes my hands. “But I didn’t realize that until after I left your place that night, that I’m completely in love with you. That I need you in my life.”
I sigh and look at our hands. Big, thick guy fingers holding onto my small ones. I could look at these hands together all day. But if I let him back in my life, will he just leave again?
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I’m scared too. Scared that you’ll leave again when things get too tough. That you won’t know how to be yourself in front of me. I’m not a fan, Jayce. You don’t have to put up walls for me. You can be real. I mean, shit, I didn’t even know you played Call of Duty, and I lived with you for a month!”
“Well, yeah, because that’s what girls want to see their boyfriends doing, right?” He laughs.
“If it’s what you like, that’s fine, Jayce, as long as it’s the real you. That’s all I’m interested in, and I thought you considered me important enough to show me the real you.”
He squeezes my hands, looks through my soul with those brown eyes. “You are. And I’ll show you. I want to show you. Not having to hide shit about myself actually sounds refreshing. But will you still let me?”
Looking away at the lake behind my house, I take a deep breath. “But I already came home. My stuff’s in storage, and things weren’t working out for me in Nashville. I already accepted that singing backup for your record was my moment in the sun.”
“Not even close, Shortcake,” he says, standing, hands on his hips. “I listened to the tracks we recorded…you were entirely right about that song. Your melody worked better than mine.”
“You’re just saying that so I’ll come back.”
“No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I couldn’t admit that you were right. Couldn’t admit that sometimes I don’t fucking know what I’m doing, that a backup singer knows more than I do. That’s what I’m afraid everyone will see.”
“Major in Music Studies, thank you very much. Not just ‘backup singer.’” What begins as a little smirk spreads into a smile. One I can’t help, especially with Jayce peering up into my face with that sexy grin, trying to make me laugh. “Stop.”
“Alright, look,” he says. “Here it is, all out on the table. I love you. No, let me do that again—I adore you. I’m in love with you. And even if you won’t take me back, I want to use our song on the album, give you full credit. That’s got nothing to do with you and me. That’s me, as Jayce, the artist, making sure that you, Elena, the artist, get proper credit where credit is due. That will get you through the door, because you earned it.” He shifts his stance to less of a professional one and more of a relaxed one. “And now this is me, Jayce, the idiot, begging his girl to come home.”
He kneels in the dirty bare spot of the lawn and takes my hands.
“Ugh.”
“Come on, now, this ground is hard.”
If I go back with him, he has to talk to me, tell me everything. I have to make sure my professional world doesn’t mix with my private world. Have to make sure he doesn’t help me in unnecessary ways. I still want to do this for myself. “Fine. Just tell me how you found me here.”
“It wasn’t hard, Shortcake. You filled out a 1099 at the studio, remember? Also, your roommate isn’t a complete and total brat the way you think she is. She told me where you were.” He lifts me to my feet, swallows me into a knee-bending hug, then scoops my face with his hands. It’s the softest, most tender, sweetest kiss he’s ever laid on me, the first of many for days to come.
21
Jayce
First thing I had to do when I brought my baby home was strip her down and throw her in the shower. Not because sex is always on my mind, or because we didn’t already do it in the hotel stay on the way home, three times to be exact. But because I felt there was something symbolic about it. We’re starting clean, fresh, and I vow to always tell her what I’m feeling, no matter how bad I want to keep it a secret.
Good thing I found Mama a nice house not too far from here.
Looks like a tree. Is a tree, actually. The treehouse. Mama loves it, wants to stay there forever, won’t even hear of me buying her something else, because it reminds her of the country, so she can have it all she wants for now.
That leaves the main house to me and Elena, and when I finally get her home, for the first time in a long time, I feel joy.
Once we’re in the shower I start with Elena’s long hair, soaking it through with water, watching hot rivers run down her back, bead up on her shoulders. Shampooing her hair, I make big circles with my fingertips, and her sexy eyes close.
“That good?” I ask.
“Mmm, hmm…” She leans her head back. There’s something so incredibly sensuous about her pose right now, the curve of her back, her toned legs tucked tightly together, her breasts perked up, the shower water spiking off her chest.
Turning her around to face me, I back her into the shower stream and let the shampoo rinse away, then I take her hair into both hands and twist it into a rope. I pull her head back, enough so I can kiss her neck, lick up the streams of water, and run my tongue up to her ear. I have to nibble those earlobes, perfect and covered in the lightest tiny blond fuzz ever. Goosebumps all over her arms. Her nipples harden, and I want her again for the fourth time in twenty-four hours.
“Come here.” I push her up against the glass, her tits pressed up and spread out, forming soda bottle curves on the sides of her body. If she’d let me, I’d cover the house walls with paintings of her naked body. Naked Elena in the shower, naked Elena sleeping in my bed, naked Elena in the throes of ecstasy.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks. I love when she says it. Her voice takes on this husky, sultry tone, daring me to be bad, and she don’t know the Pandora box she’s opening.
“I’m going to make love to you.” I kiss her shoulders and run my hands down her body, cupping her perfect ass. I love the sound of that—making love to her.
“I thought you didn’t make love. You fucked.”
“I can do both, can’t I?” Getting on my knees, I get ready to kiss some ass, literally, the way a woman deserves to be loved. “Now that I have you. You’re mine, you know.”
“Am I now?”
“Yes, it was in the fine print. Didn’t you see it? In Section III, Clause 4.2, it specifically states you’re mine now. And you signed the dotted line, so now you’re screwed.”
“How’s getting screwed a problem?” She pushes her booty out further, and I can’t help it, I slap that ass, watching her butt bounce back.
It’s so perfect, I have to slap it again. And again.
“It’s not.” I grab both cheeks and squeeze them together then pull them apart, revea
ling her pretty little ass. She’s never felt me do it, but I have to—it’s calling out my name. I lick that tight opening nice and slow, as she murmurs against the glass. I can’t tell what she’s saying, not that it matters. She pushes her bottom against me, so I give her more of the same. With Elena, it’s all about pushing boundaries a bit at a time.
“You have the best ass, Shortcake.” I bury my whole face between her cheeks, and the thought of adoring this woman in this way gets me even harder. In this position, the head of my cock touches the cold shower floor, lighting an electric sensation through me. I need to warm it up now.
Elena turns and now I get a view of her entire front from the bottom looking up. My Venus on the shell.
I stand up and turn my face toward the spray, squinting my eyes, only to find that someone has dropped to her knees to take me fully into her mouth. The warmth of her tongue and lips coiling tightly around my cock sends shivers up my back. I groan, feeling myself get swallowed deeper than Elena has ever taken me. Her legs spread, and she reaches down to play with her clit as she sucks me off.
“God damn.”
How did I win this woman when I don’t deserve her? How is it that she’ll do these things to me and let me do things to her? At what point will she realize I’m not worthy? I can’t think about it now, but the questions will haunt me for the rest of my life.
As much as I love the sensations and want to blow in her mouth, I need to be inside her. Need to claim her again in the house she left behind, to erase the memories of our last day here.
“Stand,” I tell her. She slides my cock out of her mouth with a pop and runs it along her tongue one more time before standing and giving me a taste of my own hot skin.
Our kiss is deep and slow, building my desire for her. I grip my hands underneath her ass and pull her up so her legs wrap around me, feet locked behind my back. And then I spin her to rest against the wall. Slowly, her weight slides out of my hands until her slick core touches the head of my cock. Our gazes lock, and I see it—my love for her reflected in her eyes. Pressing my forehead against hers, we hold that pose until she slides down completely, engulfing me to the hilt.