Broken Lullabies

by Nicole Simone

  Matthew buckled his belt and grinned. “That was fucking amazing.”

  “Yea?”

  Catching the worry in my tone, he tugged me against him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s obviously something or else you wouldn’t have that crease between your brows.”

  I smoothed my face into a neutral expression, although concern still nibbled at my mind. “It’s just we are in the bathroom a mere couple of feet from your family.”

  Finally catching on, Matthew pressed a kiss to my forehead. “We’re fine. They are too wrapped up in their own bullshit to notice our absence. I promise.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s not as if these walls are soundproof.”

  “I can’t help it if you make me come undone with that talented mouth of yours.” He smiled at the grin he evoked from his praise. “There’s my girl.”

  Calling me his made my heart swell. I could get used to that - easily.

  “All right, you better exit first. I’ll count to five and then meet up with you in the living room or wherever my family migrated to,” Matthew said.

  “Sounds like a plan.” My hands smoothed my ruffled clothes. “Do I look okay?”

  Matthew did a head to toe body scan that heated my blood with desire. When it came to him, there wasn’t such a thing as enough. I craved him like I craved dark chocolate.

  “Stunning,” he declared.

  “You sure? I don’t want to walk out there with cum in my hair.” Matthew chuckled which caused a low hum of irritation. My hands slammed on my hips. “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, love, but what more can I say? You look the same as you did before you had your tongue wrapped around my cock.”

  His crudeness caused a fierce blush to redden my cheeks.

  Get ahold of yourself, Camille. You aren’t in middle school anymore.

  My inner temperature returned to a normal 98.6 degrees. I turned on my heels to grab the doorknob when Matthew’s arms wrapped around my waist. His crotch flush against my ass, my body stiffened.

  “We aren’t done. Tonight you will get yours,” he whispered into the crook of my neck.

  With that tantalizing promise, Matthew let go, fully aware of the naughty images he’d projected into my mind.

  Bastard.

  On shaky legs, I entered the hallway where Matthew’s middle sister, Rosy, was on her cell phone. After a few heated words, she spotted me and hung up.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.” I shot a nervous glance at the bathroom door. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, just relationship drama.”

  “I know how that goes,” I snapped my fingers as if an idea just popped into my head. “Hey, you know that book you mentioned earlier? Would you mind showing it to me? It sounds fascinating.”

  “Sure. It’s in my purse.”

  With tremendous relief, we walked away from the bathroom. Matthew appeared minutes later and like he said, nobody was any the wiser of our indiscretion.

  “Dinner is ready,” Matthew’s mom announced.

  We gathered around the extra long table to eat the beautiful food she had prepared. Laughter and relentless teasing amongst the siblings and the babble of toddlers filled the room.

  “So Camille, Matthew mentioned you grew up about thirty minutes from here,” Crystal said.

  “That’s right. I lived in Danbury, Connecticut until I was two.”

  “Lovely town.”

  “It is. Although I don’t really remember it.”

  “You and Matthew should go visit. Take a jog down memory lane.”

  Cindy, Matthew’s oldest sister, spoke. “Isn’t it funny that if you’d stayed, you and Matthew could have been the modern day version of Romeo and Juliet?”

  Off my quizzical look, Matthew explained. “South Salem High School is rivals with Danbury High.”

  “Oh, why?” I asked.

  “Because every high school needs a rival,” this came from Cindy’s husband. “Didn’t yours have one?”

  My mouth scrunched to the side as I shook my head. “Nope. I went to an all-girls Catholic school.

  “Really?” The Lee siblings asked at once.

  I didn’t know if I should be offended or not by the disbelief written on their faces. “Really. My parents didn’t want me to be distracted by boys. My academic success was the key to an Ivy League college according to them.”

  Matthew’s mom dotted her lips with the tip of napkin. “Where did you end up going?”

  “Rolling Bay College.” Laughter rippled through the crowd and I grinned. “My parents almost had a heart attack when I told them my choice since it was far from Ivy League, but they came around eventually.”

  Rosy gestured to her other two sisters. “We would have loved to attend college, but unlike Matthew, we didn’t get a full scholarship.”

  “Hey!” Emily, Matthew’s youngest sister, cried. “I went to community college.”

  Cindy rolled her eyes. “For two semesters.”

  “It’s still better than nothing.”

  Matthew’s mom tapped her fork against her plate to gather their attention. “Girls, stop bickering. You’re both smart and accomplished.”

  Emily sank into her chair with her arms crossed, pouting. “Whatever.”

  To dissipate the strained tension, I spoke. “You guys didn’t miss anything. College is just one long, drunken frat party.”

  “It’s true,” Cindy’s husband agreed. “You saved your liver a world of hurt by not attending.”

  Cindy glanced at him with an expression of pure adoration. “Thanks, hun.”

  My chest squeezed as longing flooded my veins. I wanted that kind of partnership where your husband makes your regrets more palatable, who loves you without barrier. And I knew exactly whom I wanted that with.

  Matthew.

  The realization wasn’t a thunderbolt but an earthquake. It shook me to my core because my heart had chosen the wrong man to want such things with.

  “Is the food okay? It looks like you swallowed a lemon.”

  At the sound of Matthew’s voice, I glanced up and lost myself in the smoky, grey depths of his eyes. They crinkled at the corners as he gifted me with a smile. I should have known the moment he won my trust, it wouldn’t be long before he won my heart as well. My eyes jerked to the plate in front me while I attempted to lasso in my emotions.

  “Camille?”

  Matthew’s voice tinged with concern propelled me to speak. “It’s delicious.” I shoved another bite into my mouth to further my point. “Really delicious.”

  He didn’t believe me as far as he could spit, but soon after, Cindy’s young daughter spilled a glass of orange juice on her new dress and Matthew got lost in the resulting chaos.

  “I have somewhere I want to show you.”

  Setting the dirty plate in the dishwasher, I wiped my hands on my apron and looked at Matthew. “Right now?”

  “Yea. My mom and sisters can clean up the rest.”

  “I don’t feel right about leaving your family with this mess.”

  Crystal chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. “Feel right about what?”

  “Is it okay if you load the rest of the plates? I want to take Camille to The Alligator.”

  “Where you first played?”

  “Yea, my old bandmates are playing there tonight.”

  She clapped her hands together, a smile splitting apart her cheeks. “Of course! Send them my love.”

  Although Crystal seemed fine with me leaving, my inner dutiful houseguest had to double check. “Are you sure?”

  She untied my apron strings and gently shoved me toward the door. “You aren’t enslaved to do the housework. Go! Have fun.”

  “I have to change. Give me two minutes.” My steps faltered as I factored in the amount of time it would take to do my makeup. I swung my head around the corner. “Five minutes.”

  Matthew laughed. “That’s
code for ten.”

  “It will be worth it.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  Our audience, his mother and Cindy, awww-ed.

  “You guys are so cute,” Cindy gushed.

  Having his manhood threatened, Matthew grunted and wandered off to watch football with his dad while I scampered into the guest bedroom to find an outfit. My suitcase didn’t contain much besides the usual jeans and t-shirts, which wouldn’t impress Matthew. Dumping my clothes onto the bed, I sorted through the contenders and put the worthy ones into a pile. A knock drew my attention to the door.

  “Come in,” I yelled.

  Matthew’s three sisters entered the bedroom. Rosy spoke first. “We thought we would offer our help. Feel free to decline it though.”

  I glanced back at the mess and figured four heads were better than one. “I would love you guys’ help.”

  Emily had already wandered over to the bed, digging through my options. Her face displayed her dismay with what I had chosen. I wasn’t offended though. With her mini skirt, tights, and knee-high boots, I looked like a librarian in comparison.

  She held up a tank top with a rip on the bottom. “Were you planning on working out while you were here?”

  I snatched it from her and cradled it in my hands. “It’s super soft.”

  “Don’t be mean, Emily,” Cindy admonished. “We’re here to offer advice, not critique her fashion sense.”

  “Besides, some of this stuff is cute,” Rosy said, eyeing my favorite pair of dark denim washed jeans on top of the heap. “Are those True Religions?”

  “Yea, I got them at Nordstrom Rack for half off,” I boasted.

  “You city people have the best department stores,” she mumbled as she continued to salivate over them.

  I almost felt compelled to give them to her, but they were the only jeans I had that weren’t from Old Navy. Also, they shaped my bottom into an ass J.Lo would be jealous of.

  Cindy tugged the jeans free and set them aside. “Do you have any blouses or anything that shows a hint of boobage?”

  I glanced down at my chest and snorted. “What boobage? I’m a double-B cup.”

  “We’re about the same size. Do you want to borrow a push-up bra?” Rosy asked.

  Walking naked to the bathroom in front of Matthew was one thing, but having my goods on display for a crowd of people to see was another. I had to draw the line somewhere.

  “I’m good, thank you,” I said.

  Emily absorbed in her phone, typed a message then glanced up at us. “I have to go. Bernard, my boyfriend, is waiting outside.” She patted me awkwardly on the shoulder as she passed. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You too,” I said faintly.

  “Be careful!” Cindy yelled after her, but the door slamming shut drowned out her motherly goodbye.

  The two remaining sisters heaved a collective sigh. If I had to take a stab in the dark, Emily was the wild child of the bunch. She was all attitude and young twenty-something angst.

  “I’m glad she was smart enough to not bring Bernard inside,” Cindy said after a short pause.

  “That’s because last time she did, Dad threatened to bust Bernard’s kneecaps if he hurt his baby girl.”

  Cindy laughed softly, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Big, scary, tattooed head of his lame ass biker gang, Bernard almost shit his pants. He sprinted out of the house so fast, he was a blur.”

  They both giggled at the memory while I continued to search for a top. My time frame of ten minutes was pushing to fifteen.

  “You’re lucky you’re a girl.” Rosy said to me. “Otherwise, my dad would have given you the same treatment. He gave the ‘speech’ to my husband and Cindy’s.”

  I considered an old off-the-shoulder rock T-shirt as I replied flippantly, “I’m also lucky I’m not Matthew’s girlfriend then. I’m horrible under pressure.”

  Silence shrouded the room. Feeling their eyes burning holes into the back of my head, I looked over my shoulder. They were staring at me as if I had announced space aliens had landed in the backyard.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We’re surprised,” Cindy said.

  “Yea, we thought you and Matthew were a couple. You certainly act like one.”

  Re-facing the pile of clothes, I attempted to act more nonchalant than I felt about the subject. “We’re friends.” The word “friends” scraped my heart into ribbons.

  “Is it because Matthew is a rock star? I know it’s hard to have groupies constantly hanging on to him, wanting to get into his pants.” Cindy barked out a bitter laugh. “Or have people want to be best friends with you because your brother is Matthew Lee.”

  “Or have an unflattering picture of you splashed in the gossip rags.”

  Until this very moment, as I listened to Rosy and Cindy list the negative aspects of Matthew’s fame, I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be his girlfriend. How the groupies would hate me, my privacy would be long gone, and our relationship picked to pieces until doubt crept into the foundation like an invasive weed.

  Camille re-emerged a new woman. She’d shed the one size too large clothes for an off-white dress that hit the middle of her knees. Clear gloss highlighted her bow-shaped lips. I wanted to skip the bar and find out if she was wearing a thong or going commando.

  She tugged at the hemline, subconsciously. “Is it too revealing? I was going to wear jeans, but at the last minute, your sister found this dress and she said it would be perfect.”

  “You look absolutely breathtaking.”

  “Thank you. Sorry it went over the ten-minute mark,” Camille said, her husky voice sending a rush of blood to my crotch.

  Since getting an erection with my family surrounding me would be highly embarrassing, I focused my thoughts on death and murder. The lust faded to a low hum because around Camille, it never went away completely.

  “No worries. Are you ready?” I asked.

  “Yea, I…”

  I grasped her hand and tugged her out the front door, my family waving goodbye behind us. It was like a flashback to junior prom.

  “I need my jacket,” Camille protested. “It’s colder than balls.”

  Shrugging my sports coat off, I draped it over her shoulders. “There.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  I placed my hand on her lower back and led her to the rental car. Once she was safely in the passenger seat, I ran around and jumped inside. Camille cranked the heat to high, her breath a white cloud.

  She rubbed her hands together in front of the heater. “It’s supposed to be spring.”

  “This is spring on the east coast. Instead of five below, we get thirty above.”

  “No wonder my parents have a skewed sense of temperature.”

  The turn signal blinked right as I navigated the car onto the highway. South Salem had a lack of music clubs and subsequently a lack of a night scene. Establishments closed at nine p.m. sharp. As a teenager, my friends and I would concoct our own fun by drinking in the back parking lot of the local grocery store. Eventually, the police cracked down and we had to find a different spot to raise hell. That spot became The Alligator. The owner, Ralph, let us play on the weekends in exchange for grunt work. I polished glasses, cleaned up puke in the bathroom, basically menial tasks nobody else wanted to do.

  Finally warm, Camille leaned back in the seat. “Do you remember the first song you played?”

  “On stage?”

  “Yea.”

  “Jesus, that was nine years ago.” Before she could do the math, I did it for her. “I’m twenty-five.”

  “You’re a year older me.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  She shifted so that she was facing me. The glow of the streetlights flashed across her features. “You act pretty mature for your age.”

  I glanced over at her then trained my eyes back on the road. “Really?”

  “Nobody has ever said told you that before?”

  “As a
joke, sure, but not seriously.”

  “Looking back, that’s what attracted me to you in the first place. You have this wisdom behind your eyes like you’ve survived your fair share of tribulations and came out the other side.”

  My hands tightened on the steering wheel. It sounded as if Camille was trying to make me confess to the fact I was there that night in the alleyway or my own paranoia was causing me to jump to conclusions.

  “Is that the real reason you picked me to do the contract with?” I joked. “Because of my infinite wisdom?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  Laughing, I pulled the car into the parking lot and turned off the engine. The Alligator was on the edge of Poughkeepsie, the closest city to South Salem. Although it was an hour drive, it was worth it for the stiff drinks and a rotating set of musicians that played when they stopped through on tour.

  I threw off my seatbelt. “We’re here.”

  “Finally. You should have warned me we were going on a road trip. I would have peed before we left.”

  “There’s a bathroom in the bar.”

  She craned her neck to look at the worn exterior that had shingles missing from the roof due to the last storm. Judgment radiated from her pores. “I’m good.”

  “It’s clean, trust me. I used to get on my hands and knees and clean the tiles with a toothbrush. Ralph is OCD about germs.”

  “Ralph?”

  “The owner.”

  “Ah.”

  She eyed The Alligator warily again and then clicked her seatbelt free. Camille had the after effects of living a sheltered existence. Establishments that didn’t have a health rating and-or situations that pushed her out of her protected bubble made her feel uneasy. I’m glad that if anything good came out of this, it would be the fact I’d showed her a world she hadn’t seen. A world richer than the clothes hanging on the racks in Barney’s.

  We stepped onto the gravel parking lot. Camille teetered on her fuck-me heels but righted herself before she fell flat on her face. I laughed quietly to myself as I came around to her side.