Memphis Black

by Mj Fields

  “Then I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t, because my fantasy—the Memphis who was always my knight in black leather and ink—said things to me that, even though I didn’t know I wanted to hear them, affected me.”

  “Tales—”

  “Please don’t say anything. Just kiss me or push me against a wall or let me go down on my knees for you again, because I don’t wanna think. I want to feel.” She steps forward and grabs my shirt. I see her mustering up courage before she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and leans in.

  “Can’t kiss you, Tales.” I step back regretfully.

  “Then let me kiss you,” her eyes and voice plead in unison.

  “No, I can’t allow that, either.” Someday I will laugh at this, but not now.

  She nods. “I understand. I do. I understand. I mean …” She turns her back to me, and I hate it. I want to see her eyes.

  I grab her hand. “Look at me, Tales.”

  “I don’t need you to make this okay for me. I just need you to be okay and accept my apology. I need you to soar.”

  “Turn the fuck around,” I growl. “I won’t soar alone, and I sure as fuck can’t do it with you right this minute.”

  She does, very slowly, asking with a whisper, “Can you forgive me?”

  “Tell me what you want from me.”

  “To forgive me.”

  “Done, but I need time to process it all. What else?”

  She shakes her head, her face flushed red.

  “Need time for that, too.”

  “I understand. Be happy, okay? Be happy and be safe.”

  “Tell me, Tales.” I see it in her face, I just need to hear it and I really need her to say it.

  “I did.”

  “Fuck that. Tell me the truth about us, Tales. At the very least, tell me the truth about what you want from me.”

  “Fine!” She slaps the tears now falling down her face. “I want you to trust me and know I would never avoid telling you the truth again. And not just for you, for me, too, because it hurts right here.” She holds her hand over her chest. “I wish I had kept you a fantasy because it hurts too much right here.” She hits her chest harder now.

  “Don’t do that, Tales. Jesus.” I grab both her hands in one of mine.

  “I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you, and—”

  “Don’t you say that shit to me right now,” I snap at her, and she looks scared. “Fuck!” Forever Steel equals forever fucked right now. Dammit!

  “Sorry, but I had to tell you, or if you’ll let me, I’ll show you.” She has just opened up completely to me, and I can do fuck-not about it.

  “Can’t let that happen now, either.”

  She nods and sniffs loudly. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just—”

  I take her hand and shove it down the front of my pants. “Feel this, Tales, but be nice.” I push her hand farther in, and she gasps.

  “What happened to you? Do you have a—”

  “I liked it, so I put a fucking ring on it.”

  “What?” She almost laughs the nervous laugh I enjoy so much.

  I pull her hand away. “It’s a dolphin”—I almost smirk—“topped with a prince. Google it then call me in about four to six weeks and tell me what you told me a few seconds ago.

  “Fuck fuckity fuck!” I turn to walk away and stop. “Go eat dinner with my sister!” I bark “Fuck, Tales, I have to get out of here.” I turn back and kiss her. Can’t help myself, but it’s quick. “Don’t ever keep shit from me again.”

  “I won’t, not ever.”

  Damn right you won’t, I think. “Tales?”

  “Yes?”

  She is smiling, and I know she expects me to say the words back, but that’s not going to happen right now. I have got to be pissed, or I’ll never have the upper hand.

  “Next time you see me, you’ll be on your knees, and I’m gonna be so backed up you’re gonna have to chew my come before you swallow it.”

  I Googled dolphin and prince as soon as I got home from dinner with Madison, which was a couple of hours later. We had a lot to talk about.

  Offensive!

  Intimidating!

  Interesting …

  And …

  Intriguing.

  Madison sends me a text three days later. Memphis doesn’t.

  It’s a partial tour schedule.

  I swallow hard and have to sit down as I read over it, then send back a text.

  That’s amazing! He deserves this and so much more. Is his hand okay? Is he healing well? Is he resting? That schedule looks grueling.

  She doesn’t respond. I look at the phone for a good two hours, waiting.

  There’s a knock at the door, and I open it.

  “Tales?” the deliveryman with a huge basket full of white Gerber daisies asks.

  I nod and smile. I even laugh as I take them.

  “Thank you so much.” Then I hug him. Why? I have no idea.

  “You do know they’re not from me, don’t you?” He looks confused.

  “Yes, yes, of course I do. Sorry.” I shut the door because he starts to look at me funny, and not funny as in ha, ha. Funny as in creepy.

  I carry them to the table, set them down, and grab the card.

  It reads:

  Heads, you stop worrying. Tails, keep that shit up. It makes me happy. Either way, Tales wins- MB

  My mom comes in and sees the flowers and looks at me suspiciously.

  “They’re beautiful, right?” I ask.

  “Yes. Who are they from?”

  “MB, so it’s either Madison or Memphis.”

  “Memphis Black?” She looks at me strangely, and I nod. “Be careful, Tallia. He lives in a much different world, honey.”

  A week passes, and the dance tour company hands out the travel schedule as we leave rehearsal. It’s more than seventy-five percent West Coast cities. My knee-jerk reaction is to take a picture of it and text it to Madison, but right now, I have thirteen seven-year-olds who love ballet stretching and waiting for their class to start. They make my day brighter for sure. They actually make three days a week brighter, and they are my absolute favorite class to teach.

  The hour flies by and ends with a circle, all holding hands, all smiling, and all ready and excited for the next day.

  The last part of my day is my least favorite class, but it pays well. It’s also three days a week, and an adult aerobic-dance class.

  Nine hours of dance today, and I am exhausted. Exhaustion is something I welcome with open arms, though.

  I walk out and punch the code to lock up for the night.

  “Tallia?”

  I look back to see where the raspy voice is coming from and see a blonde woman. She’s beautiful, standing in front of a black town car.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I sure hope so. I’ve been watching you for the past couple days. Two of my dancers take your class. You’re phenomenal.” She steps forward and extends her hand; I shake it.

  “Thank you.”

  “One of my dancers fell and fractured her ankle during a practice last week. They mentioned you may be a perfect match to do a gig for a month, more if we mesh.”

  “Sounds intriguing, but I am already part of a dance team, and we’re touring for three months.”

  “I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, but I do my homework. I know what they pay, and I can double it.”

  I look at her skeptically. “Nothing illegal?”

  She smiles, which puts me at ease. “This isn’t normal for me. I don’t go looking for the talent, but when they talked you up, I had to make an exception. One month, double pay. Google me: I manage a band. When you see who I am, I know you’ll want in. It’s a good gig.” She hands me a card. “Give Jane a call; I need a decision tomorrow. If you don’t want in, I need to find someone fast.”

  I take the card. “Thank you.”

  “Double the pay, five hour days, and a fifteen hundred dollar bonus”—she looks down at my b
eat-up dance shoes hanging from my gym bag —“and I’ll throw in a decent pair of shoes.”

  I start to walk away.

  “Tallia?”

  “Yes,” I say, turning around.

  “I don’t need this getting out. There are people who love to talk shit about me, and I require anyone who works for me to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

  “Understood.”

  I finally make it home, thinking how nice it would be to buy a car and avoid the train. I normally don’t mind, but the three days a week that are long days kill me.

  Mom is asleep. She has a long weekend planned with her church group. She seems happy now. She is smiling again, spreading sunshine.

  I hear a light knock on the door as I smell the flowers. I walk over and look through the peephole.

  My heart skips a beat and then another. He looks beautiful … And now he’s running his hands through his hair and turning around.

  Quickly, I unlock the chain then the deadbolt, and I open the door.

  “Hey,” I say, trying not to act like I am over-the-moon to see him. He turns around.

  “Hey, back,” he says, looking down.

  “Do you want to come in?” Dear God, he is beautiful even in cargo shorts, a tee shirt and that beanie.

  “No.” He shakes his head slowly and then finally looks at me.

  “Did you come to tell me you hate me?” My voice betrays me, showing the pain from the thought. He looks at me like I’m crazy, which makes me feel stupid. “’Cause you could have just sent a text.” I step out in the hall.

  He sighs. “Did you get the flowers?”

  “They are so beautiful. Thank you. Thank you so, so much.” This is a good sign, right?

  “They still alive?” His nose scrunches up as he runs his hand over his black beanie.

  “Yeah.”

  He starts to take a step forward then stops himself. “They smell good, Tales?”

  “You can come in and—”

  “Nah.” He shakes his head. He looks in my eyes and groans then slowly grazes down my body with his eyes, and I feel my nipples strain against my leotard. “Tales?”

  “Yes?” I say as I step back against the wall, seeking its cool comfort on my very warm body.

  “I’m gonna be touring for a long time.” He may as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on me.

  I open my eyes and look at him as I cross my arms in front of me.

  He smirks, noticing the change in my demeanor. “You still gonna be here when I get back?”

  “Is this where you want me to be, Memphis?” I feel my lip quiver. “Here?”

  “Tales.”

  “Have you forgiven me yet?”

  “Yeah. Have you forgiven yourself?” I shake my head. “His death wasn’t your fault,” he tries to tell me.

  I blow upward, trying to cool my eyes to stop the tears, to keep myself together. I don’t want to push him away by acting too needy.

  Wanting to change the subject, I ask, “How is Madison?”

  “Busy.” He chuckles. “We put her on travel detail.”

  “Travel?”

  “Find hotels, and book flights to tour cities. She works about thirty hours.”

  “Will she travel with you?” I ask.

  “Does she have to?”

  I give him a confused look, suddenly feeling insecure, “Why are you asking me that?”

  “Will you feel more comfortable if your best friend is hanging out with your … me?”

  “Is she still my best friend? I mean—” I am all emotion right now and I don’t like it. I push myself back against the wall, wishing I could sink into it so I don’t reach out to him. All I want to do is hang on to him, any part of him.

  “Damn, Tales.”

  “I miss her. I miss you. I miss—” I finally admit.

  “I miss you, too, but we have another three weeks before—”

  “Three weeks?”

  “I’m healing.” When I look at him without expression, he says, “The fucking dolphin prince needs to just chill the hell out for—”

  “Your penis piercing?” I whisper.

  “Yes,” he whispers back mockingly.

  “Because of that … thing.”

  “The Great and Powerful Oz?”

  My jaw drops, and I have to cover my mouth so I don’t wake the entire building with my laughing.

  He smirks. “Tales, you don’t laugh when a dude talks about his dick.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “I don’t know. I’d like you and me to figure it out together.”

  “Together?”

  He looks around as if he’s lost something. “Were you not the one I nailed under the stairs? Do you have a fucking doppelganger? If you do, before I make any sort of commitment, I really want the three of us to get together at least once.”

  “You still want me?” my voice squeaks with excitement and emotion.

  He smiles and nods. “Yeah, Tales.”

  I walk up and hug him, taking care not to push against him. “Does it hurt?”

  He wraps his arms around me, returning the hug. “What?”

  “When you’re hard?” I whisper in his ear.

  “Wow. Shit, apparently not. It’s gonna when I can’t be up in you, though.” He grinds against me.

  “Why did you do it?” I ask as his nose runs across my hair, and he inhales.

  He pulls back to look me in the eye. “I was pissed at you, pissed enough that I was afraid, if I went on tour, I would fuck whatever I could to feel something other than angry for a while.”

  “You were going to have sex with the—”

  “Gaggle of groupies,” he confirms with a nod, “until I stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized I’m not just Forever Steel. I’m kind of forever Tales, too.”

  I look up at him, wishing, hoping. I know I’m pleading with my eyes for him to tell me what I desperately want to hear from him.

  “All that shit you said to me the other night.” I frown at him, and he corrects himself. “I mean, stuff, Tales, not shit. Shit, you know that.” I nod. “All the talk about me being your fantasy has sent me into my head so deeply I can’t even begin to understand it all myself. But I do know that, for years—and when I say years, I mean it—I have been drawn to you.

  “When we were kids at church, your old man saw me looking at you. It wasn’t like I wanted to bang you; I was just watching you and how you acted, how the girl who smiled and was kind to everyone held herself together. I suppose I have been in awe of you since then.

  “One day, your father caught me watching you and said, ‘Do you know what happens to sinners, young man?’ I told him no, I didn’t. I was a fucking kid! He looks at me and says, ‘They burn in hell.’

  “I fucking laughed in his face. Hell, he preached God’s love and was pegging me at ten years old as a sinner. He didn’t think that shit was funny. I wasn’t thinking about banging you back then, Tales. I was fucking ten.

  “He told me, ‘If you have sexual desires for her, you best get down on your knees and pray, young man.’” Memphis shakes his head. “I had no clue what he was talking about. Sex was far from my mind. I was into Legos or some other shit my old man bought, promising he’d spend time doing it with me and then bailing.

  “I figured out about sex really quickly after that, and you, Tales, were my first fantasy. I mean, I’m not sure it was planned, but I thought about you, and I thought about sex. I thought about sex, and I thought about you. You understand what I’m saying?”

  I nod and he continues, “You were also untouchable, too good for me: sweet, kind, innocent, all the things I never was. I also wanted to protect you from the little fucks who picked on you, but you would just smile in their faces like an angel. I was never gonna be good enough, so I didn’t even give it a second thought until Miami.”

  I push up on my toes and grab his face in my hands. His admission, his confession, make me not only love him, but want him even more. �
�I hope you know better now. I’m no angel.”

  “And … that’s my cue,” he groans and steps back, his massive erection prominently on display. “I’m out, Tales, like a boner in sweatpants.” He takes something out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Don’t give this up again.”

  I nod, watching him walk away. Then I open the apartment door, and as I shut it behind me, I whisper, “I love you, Memphis Black.”

  I look down at the phone in my hand where I have a message already from him.

  See you soon, sweet cheeks.

  When, I want to ask, but I don’t.

  Morning comes too early. They all have lately. I toss and turn and think of what commitment and being on the road means.

  I got Mads a job, hoping it would give her something to do. She and Mom are all sorts of emotional lately. Mom, she, and I aren’t on bad terms, but when I found out Mom knew for a couple years that Dad was all kinds of freaky, I was kind of pissed.

  She was unapologetic and told me, when I had children someday, I would understand her choices. I’m not sure that’s true, not even sure I want kids.

  Kids? I grab my phone and send Tales a message.

  You on the pill yet?

  I get a response twenty minutes later.

  I have an appointment next week. <3

  Chick doctor?

  Does it matter? <3

  Does a bear shit in the woods?

  Some do it at the zoo. <3

  Dolphin be damned, I need to see her. It’s not like I can sleep, anyway.

  Dinner tonight?

  You sure you have time for me? <3

  I call her immediately, and she hangs up. What the fuck?

  You fucking kidding me right now?

  It was meant as a joke. I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. <3

  I’ll pick you up at eight.

  I won’t be back until nine. <3

  My bad. It’s Wednesday, right? You teach the kids.

  Shit, did I really just send that? What the fuck!

  Stalking me? <3

  Nine p.m.

  ***

  “You’re early,” Xavier says when I walk in the front door of Forever Four.