Strum Me

by Daisy Allen

  The flash of white pain returns and I swallow, trying to drown it.

  The knock on the bus door is a welcome distraction and I open it to let in the two guys carrying trays of coffees.

  “Just thought we could all use a pick-me-up,” I say to the loved-up couple, gesturing to the side tables now filled with coffee cups.

  Cadence leaps to her feet and wraps her arms around me in a big hug. “Oh, that’s so nice, thank you!” I hug her back, enjoying the friendly gesture.

  “And er, here are some croissants, just for the love birds,” I white lie, handing them the pastries. I don’t have any use for them now anyway.

  Leaving the two of them to their breakfast, I carry Hailey’s coffee over to the other bus for her. She’s in the shower when I get there and I put her coffee on her nightstand.

  I close the door to my room and sit on my bed, glad for the quiet and solitude. The pain in my chest throbs and I can still hear the blood rushing in the veins in my head. My hand comes up and I thump it against my ribcage, making my lungs drag in air. I spread my knees apart and let my head fall between them, willing the dizziness away.

  I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I can’t afford to. The sight of him with other women, the thought of it…the knowledge of it can’t knock me to my knees every time. It’s unbearable.

  I don’t even know why I’m reacting as if this was any surprise. This is how it was always going to be with him, with any of the bandmembers. Woman after woman after woman. The life of a playboy on tour. It’s why it didn’t work before, and it’s why it wouldn’t work now.

  In any capacity.

  And as much as I want this job, I want my sanity more. There are other people in my life who require me to be stable, and the way I’ve seesawed from happy to psycho in the last few days since Brad’s come back into my life is not good for anyone.

  I throw my head back, sitting upright. The dizziness is only worse. And it helps me make my decision.

  Digging through my purse for my phone, I squeeze it in my hand when I find it.

  “Do it. Just do it,” I tell myself. “It’s for the best.”

  There will be other chances, the voice inside encourages me. And pretend I can’t hear the doubt.

  Someone picks up on the other end.

  “Hey, boss? We need to talk. I just can’t do this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily

  There are women everywhere. Just everywhere.

  Crowding around the signing table, filling the aisles, jammed into the entrance, and spilling out into the mall.

  “Fucking hell,” I mumble under my breath, as I watch the band charm their fans from our spot behind the counter.

  Dennis had set up a meet and greet for fans at the local music store owned by an old friend of his. I’m not really sure who was doing whom the favor. The store was definitely getting their fair share of sales of the band’s albums.

  “Oh, Jez! You’re so bad!” We hear a high-pitched voice dipped in syrup float toward us and I see Hailey grit her teeth. I turn and see the voice’s owner move down the line and reach over and pat Sebastian on the arm. He just grins at her and hands her the autographed CD liner notes.

  “Ugh, how do you stand it?” I ask Cadence.

  “Stand what?” she replies, eyes still fixed on her fiancé.

  Hailey stares straight ahead but squeals, mimicking the fans, “Oh! Sebbywebbypebbyboo! You are like soooo my soulmate!”

  I have to laugh at the spot-on impression. I guess she’s been around it enough to have it down pat.

  Cadence just grins and says, “Hailey, stop hitting on my fiancé, you know we’ve talked about that!”

  “Bitch!” Hailey splutters and reaches over and pinches Cadence on the arm.

  “Wha?” I ask, sure there’s a story in there somewhere.

  “Long story—I used to think Hailey was after my man, but I chased her off,” Cadence explains.

  “Not to mention he doesn’t have what I like!” Hailey cryptically adds.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “A pussy,” Hailey answers.

  I choke on my breath. “Wha?”

  “Never mind that. Back to me being the best girlfriend ever,” Cadence cuts in.

  I try to swallow my surprise at Hailey’s revelation and return to questioning Cadence. “Yeah, how are you not over there just glaring at every woman flirting with him right now?”

  The three of us focus our attention on the guys again. Just at that moment Sebastian winks at Cadence and wiggles four fingers at her.

  She giggles and wiggles four fingers back at him before he grins and then goes back to signing his autograph.

  “I dunno, because of stuff like that, I guess,” she says, her cheeks a soft pink glow from the attention from Sebastian.

  “What was that?” I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer.

  “That was a reminder of last night and what’s coming tonight,” Cadence says, wiggling the four fingers at the two of us.

  Hailey looks at me and shrugs, before her face makes it clear it’s dawned on her.

  “Four..? Oh. Ew! You guys are sex addicts,” Hailey exclaims, but her eyes widen almost in admiration.

  “Yes,” Cadence sighs, “that helps, too. But seriously, the flirting, it’s just a part of his job. I thought it was going to be hard, but since we’ve gotten together, I’ve never felt I needed to question the trust I have in him staying monogamous at all.”

  “Even after everything they’ve done?” I say, referencing the very well-documented lifestyles of the guys in the band.

  “You mean be young and famous and gorgeous and enjoy it? If they’re single, who cares? I just know that Sebastian can’t wait but come home to me at night. And he makes sure I know it.”

  I envy her. I envy her confidence, I envy her utter trust. I would envy her happiness but I like her and think she deserves it. I’m going to miss her. I wish we’d had more time to get to know one another.

  “Hmm, it’s time to break up the flirt fest, I think, give the guys a rest,” Hailey tells us before she squeezes herself through the crowd to the signing table.

  “Everyone? Can I have your attention please? We’re going to have a half-hour break so the guys can grab a bite to eat. You guys can grab a number and come back at 1 p.m. That’ll save you from lining up. See you all again soon, and thank you, it’s been a great day so far!”

  There’s a loud collective groan as the crowd watches the guys stand up and give them all a wave. Hailey walks over to them, handing out fresh bottles of cold water, instructing them on the day’s schedule. I watch as Brad asks her a question and she points over to me. He jumps over the table and I realize he’s heading my way. He’s been so busy this morning I haven’t spoken to him other than a quick good morning on the ride over, and so far, it’s been better that way. I’ll eventually have to tell him I’m leaving, but not before I get to spend these last few hours with him. And then I’ll tell him. But that time isn’t now.

  “Um, I’m just going to run off and grab everyone some sandwiches. The guys must be starved,” I tell Cadence.

  “Someone else can do that! That’s what their assistants are for, babe.”

  “Nah, I don’t mind. I feel like a quick walk anyway,” I insist.

  She smiles and squeezes my arm.

  Grabbing my purse, I almost race out of the music store just as I hear Brad calling my name.

  I pretend not to hear and take off on a slow trot toward the food court. I can still hear him calling me. I can’t start running; that’d be too obvious. I can only hope that he gives up. Something sour is leeching into my mouth at the thought that I’m going to have to say goodbye to him, and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to hold it in if he catches up with me now.

  The sound of footsteps grows louder and then his hand is on my arm.

  “Hey!” He pulls me to a stop, breathing heavy. “Butter, you didn’t hear me?”

  I ta
ke a beat before I face him, trying not to look like I wasn’t running away from him. “Oh, no. Did you call me?”

  “Yeah, you were practically sprinting away,” he pants, his arms on his hips as he draws long deep breaths.

  “Oh, sorry, I just wanted to get to the sandwich shop and back before your break was over.”

  He knows better than to believe me. There’s a question mark growing in his pupils as he holds my gaze. His chest heaves, slowing as his eyes pierce mine.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” he asks.

  “What? Yeah, of course, I mean, I have a bit of a hangover. I’m not a pro like you guys.” I give a little shrug, hoping he’ll buy it.

  “You sure? You haven’t said a word to me all morning…I mean, there was a time I would’ve done anything for that.” He winks at his references to our friendship.

  I know he means it as a joke but it feels anything but jocular. It’s a reminder. One I’d rather not have.

  “Nah, just have a headache, I’m fine.” I wave his concern away.

  “Butter…come on. It’s me,” he presses gently.

  Exactly. It’s you, you asshole. Why can’t I not feel anything when I’m around you?!

  “I told you, Brad, it’s nothing.” I can feel my jaw tense. I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend that everything’s okay.

  “But I can tell…”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Just leave me alone and go flirt with your fans! Or Felicity or whatever her name is. Just leave me alone! I don’t need you hounding me all the fucking time!”

  My outburst catches the attention of everyone around me, which is the last thing we need—to be recognized. I glare back at everyone, hoping to shame them into looking away. But Brad’s been doing this for longer than I have. He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into a quiet clothing store.

  “Can I…help…you?” the sales assistant asks, clearly recognizing him halfway through her sentence.

  “Er, yes, I want one of all your current season’s shirts, please. Medium. Wrap them up, take your time. We’ll be over here in the fitting rooms, if you don’t mind,” he says to her over his shoulder. We pass a few open-mouthed customers as he marches me into an empty fitting room lining the back wall and pushes me into it, squeezing in behind me and pulling the curtain closed.

  “What was that?” he asks me. He’s so close, we’re inhaling each other’s breath and it’s just too hard to brush away his questions. Truth is, by now I’ve had time to calm down and I can’t help asking myself the same question. What came over me?

  “I don’t…” I start, then trail off.

  “Did I do something?” he asks, the crinkles at the sides of his eyes showing his concern.

  “No! I just…I told you I was tired and you just kept haranguing me.”

  He opens his mouth, and seems to change his mind on what he wants to say.

  “Do you…do you want me to just keep my distance? Because I can’t tell, Butter. I can’t tell what you want. Do you want me to just not talk to you at all? Because I don’t want that. But if it’ll make things easier for you, I will. But you have to know it’s not what I want.”

  The fitting room is too small to be having this conversation. I can’t think with his body pressed against me. His breath, warm and sweet like the orange Tic Tacs that he still insists on eating even though he’s an adult now. His fingers inadvertently touch me every time he makes a gesture, I know he’s not deliberately meaning to caress me, but each time it feels like he’s trying to manipulate my thoughts into wanting to touch him back, caress him back, pull his shirt so his chest curves against every curve of mine.

  This fitting room is both heaven and hell at once.

  He moves the side of his index finger to brush down the side of my face, and it takes everything I have not to stretch up on my tiptoes and kiss him. Press my lips against his and tell him how much I’ve missed him. How I wish we could always be this way, locked away from the world with nothing but our thoughts to dictate what we do. But I can’t forget what he did, and I can’t let myself be hurt like that by him again. This time I have too much to lose.

  “Brad… I…I just can’t…”

  “Why? Not why eight years ago. I want to know why not now?”

  “Because it’s just too hard. You wouldn’t want the kind of life you’d have to have if we were together.”

  “Oh, Butter, oh sweet girl, you are so wrong about that.”

  He pulls me hard against him, his legs slightly bending to bring his face down closer to mine.

  “I want you so bad I can’t even function. It’s a good thing that breathing happens automatically. My brain is so completely saturated by you, there’s no room for anything else. Not even the simplest of things. My day is filled with thoughts of making you laugh, making you smile. My nights are spent dreaming of making you moan, of making you come.”

  I close my eyes, and for a moment, let myself enjoy his words. The sudden sexual nature of them makes my mouth water. He reaches for my hand and I keep my eyes closed, wondering what he’s doing. My fingers curl against his mouth, and suddenly I feel his lips close around my index finger, and the inside of his mouth is warm and soft. I feel the pit of my stomach burst alight and my entire body feels … wet. Fluid. Like honey.

  “Wha… what are you doing?” I stammer.

  “I wanted to taste you. All of you. From your lips, to your nipples, to your stomach, to your sweet little clit. But I don’t know what you want yet, so I thought I’d start with your finger.”

  “My finger?”

  “This is the finger you use to play with your pussy, isn’t it?”

  The use of such an intimate word blindsides me, and my eyes fly open, along with my mouth. He takes the opportunity of my shock and presses his mouth down hard against mine.

  Suddenly, his tongue is in my mouth, and that Tic Tac taste is exploding like sweet orange Fanta bombs in my own mouth. His arms are around my waist, fingers digging into my back as he pulls me closer and closer. My hips are crushed against his, and there’s no question that he wants me. At least his body wants me. And it thrills me to feel him so aroused and know I’m the reason, and makes me want him. Want him even more than he wants me. Want more than just to have my finger in his mouth. More than the kiss that we’re having. I want him and everything that he has to give me.

  “Oh Brad…” I moan as he pulls his mouth away purely out of need for breath. He looks at me as he pants, his hands coming up to hold my face between them.

  “God, baby, can’t you see what you do to me? Can’t you feel it? Can you really say that it’s one-sided?”

  I lay a hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall with his fast breaths. “Brad, I…no, it’s not one-sided, it’s…”

  BRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!

  A loud phone ringtone echoes off the walls of the small fitting room, making us both jump.

  “Shit,” I curse, reaching into my bag.

  “Is that you?”

  “Yes…sorry, I have to see who it is.”

  “It’s fine.” He lets go of me as I pull the phone from my pocket.

  I stare down at it for a moment, not recognizing the number.

  “Hello?” I ask, wondering who it could be.

  “Hello, is this Ms. Emily Butter?”

  “Yes, it is. Who is this?”

  “My name is Sandra, I’m calling from King’s College Hospital. It’s about Ben.”

  And then everything goes black.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brad

  She’s just seen a ghost.

  Or is listening to one.

  Whatever is being said over the phone is making her turn deathly pale. I don’t know whether to give her her privacy or stay there in case she needs me.

  “Oh my God. Is he o-o-o-kay?” she stammers into the phone, backing up against the fitting room mirror, leaning against it for support.

  I reach out and she wraps her hand around my forea
rm, and I instantly grip my hand over hers.

  “I’m not leaving,” I mouth to her, but it’s like she doesn’t even see me.

  She’s nodding along to the long ramble coming through the phone earpiece, but I can’t quite make out the words. I’ll just have to wait.

  “Okay, thank you. I…um, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I don’t know how, but I will. Please...please tell him I love him.”

  She hangs up the phone and just holds it in her hand for a moment, as if she’s waiting for the phone to spring to life and tell her that it was all a dream.

  Then she looks up at me, “I have to…I have to GO!” she suddenly yells and tries to push past me in the fitting room.

  I’m too big and she’s rooted to the spot, her eyes dashing around, not focusing on anything, as if what’s going on in her brain is too much for her to form into words.

  “Let me go! I have to go!” she yells again, dropping the phone in her panic.

  She starts to bend over to pick it up, but I stop her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze, letting her know I’m there.

  “Go where, honey?” I ask, my voice soft, hoping to help calm her down enough for her to tell me what’s happening.

  She yanks her hand away and presses it to her chest, a sob threatening to break out of it. “Back to London! I have to go back to LONDON NOW!”

  I grab her by the shoulder and force her to look directly at me.

  “Stop! Take a deep breath. You can’t help anyone if you’re freaking out. Now, what’s happened? Tell me so I can help you, Butter.”

  For the first time since her phone call, I think she hears me. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath before speaking. “He’s…he’s in the hospital. He…he was in an accident and they’re prepping him for surgery.”

  “Who, baby, who?”

  “Ben!” She yells at me, her hand coming up to slam against my chest, the frustration building again.

  I hold her hands against me with my left hand and reach around her back with my right, pulling her against me.

  “Who’s Ben, Butter?”