by J. L. Brooks
“What do you need? I’ll get it, he said groggily.
“Another painkiller please. Just one this time.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed with the bottle in hand, he placed it back on the nightstand after removing a tablet. He waited for me to say something after taking it, then I reached over, grabbed his hand, and scooted to the middle of the bed, pulling him in. Lying behind him, I rested my arm across his ribcage, allowing my fingers to feel the smooth skin of his chest and collarbone. Hunter’s heart was racing, his breathing shallow.
“Relax.”
“I can’t.”
“Try. You need rest, too.”
“Don’t worry about me, Lila.”
His voice was quiet in the darkness. I felt the hairs on the back of his neck tickle my nose as my lips brushed across his shoulders.
“I am worried now. Tell me what you need. Maybe I can help.”
Turning over, Hunter laid on his back and tucked me under his arm; my body curled over his, legs intertwined as his chest rose and fell.
“You know, Lila, a week ago I thought I had everything figured out—that I had it all. The sky was the limit. My definition of all changed the moment I saw you in that ballroom. I didn’t believe Dinah at first. The thought of working with you, seeing you, telling our story . . . Something in me refused to believe I could be that lucky. But there you were, the most stunning woman in the room. For twenty seconds my life was perfect. Then I saw your face, and I knew.”
My hand froze in place as I recalled the moment. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then.
“And now?” I asked.
“All the things I thought were so important, that mattered, suddenly aren’t. I used to think when I made it big, you would be right there with me. But you weren’t, and no one else could hold a candle to you. I’ve found something wrong with each one. You’re a tough fucking act to follow, Keaton. I would check in on you occasionally, especially when you came out with your last book. I kept all of the newspapers where you made the lists and your books are on my shelf. A few are even autographed. I was so proud of you, even though they reminded me of how much I screwed up. I thought if we got to write a story, it could have a happy ending—the one you deserved.”
Exhaling deeply, I rubbed my hand firmly against my forehead. “I can’t even think about writing right now, much less giving that much of myself to something so personal. It consumes me. I don’t shower every day, I eat terribly, never sleep. It really is quite maddening.”
Hunter laughed as I described my writing rituals. Comparing them to when he’s in the studio, I found it ironic how similar we were in our creative habits.
“Are you working on anything right now?” I asked curiously in my attempt to draw more out of him. Seeing how he plugged away at his computer often, I wanted to hear beyond the muffled bass escaping the headphones.
“Yes, do you want to hear it? I think you will like it.”
“Um, of course!”
He plugged in the headphones and adjusted the sound before placing them over my ears. Slowly, the drums came out from a distant place. The sounds were so perfect, yet he found a way to make the piano intro sound real and not manufactured by a program. While each measure played, my mind broke down the instruments and timed each beat. Layer upon layer of lush tracks blended seamlessly into audio bliss. As the momentum built, there was a sudden drop and several measures of silence. Drawing out the anticipation just long enough, the ethereal sound of an acapella children’s choir filled my ears and grew louder as voices joined in.
Never had I heard anything so moving in my life. I clutched the spiraled cord to my chest as my soul physically responded. Violins swept in before the synthesizers and bass tore the track into a calculated distortion, shooting adrenaline through my veins. It was a little much for me to be listening to, but I couldn’t stop. I craved more and protested as he pulled the headphones away.
“It’s not ready, yet. It’s missing something, but I’m not quite sure what that is.”
Sitting up quickly I set the computer aside and straddled Hunter’s lap. My mouth took him by surprise as I crashed into his. Tentatively his fingers brushed my thighs.
“Lila, we can’t.”
Pulling my head back, I gave a bothered stare.
“Can we not be affectionate without fucking as an end game? You know—make out, caress, tickle, snuggle? I don’t remember those things being off limits.”
I could tell he was afraid to touch me. Unable to go another hour without the feeling of his hands on my body, knowing all too soon it would be over; I reached over to his laptop and put old jazz into the Internet radio player. The low, muted trumpets set the tone as I grasped his wrist and held it against my abdomen. Giving a mischievous smirk, I moved his hand slowly over various parts of my torso, sliding it under the silk camisole, my nipples hardening against his palm as it brushed back and forth across my breast. Not allowing him to linger too long in one place, I brought his fingers to my mouth and gently kissed each tip before bringing the right index finger into my mouth and biting suggestively. My hair brushed across his chest and down his thighs as I shifted backward slowly, teasing his skin and drawing forth goose bumps. Scraping my teeth lightly against the flesh of his hipbones, I licked the hollow curve leading into his groin. Marveling at the perfection I knew he worked hard to maintain, I re-familiarized myself with every dip and valley of his muscular build.
Sliding my breasts over his thighs, my mouth inched closer to his hardening cock. A drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip, begging to be licked off. I resisted the urge and exhaled hot breath over the head and watched it twitch in response. Hunter surveyed every move without blinking, his eyes glazing over with lust as he remained pliable to my every move. I could sense exploring him in this way was vulnerable. Dragging my body slowly back into the starting position, I leaned down and found his kiss gentle, yet eager. He could only take so much before rolling me beneath him. Repaying the favor, his fingers and tongue traversed my skin with the same diligence I administered on him.
I gasped as his tongue flattened while carefully devouring the wetness between my legs. My intention to keep this from becoming more sexual was thrown to the wind the moment my calves were placed on his shoulders and he showed no signs of stopping.
Small pleading mews and whimpers were the only noises to escape my lips as Hunter fought to keep my thighs from squeezing his head too hard. Spiraling into a deep release, my body jerked violently, held in place by his firm grasp.
Satisfied with his work, he trailed kisses across my navel and breasts, up to my neck and finally to my lips where I could taste myself on his tongue.
“Like that?”
“You like that. I’m indifferent. It’s like licking my arm, not that exciting.”
Playfully Hunter bit my chin at the sarcastic pillow talk. “If your arm tastes like your pussy, you might want to get that checked out.”
I licked my arm, and then his lips. “Tastes fine to me, I’m sure it’s just some anomaly. But now that you say something, it makes sense. Men do find me irresistible, so it must be that and not my charming personality.”
My reference to men other than Hunter had an upsetting effect on him. His pupils dilated and his jaw tightened. Instantly I knew I said something I shouldn’t have, despite the innocent misstep. He had become possessive of me, despite every warning not to be.
“It was a joke, Hunter. And honestly, you aren’t allowed to be that way with me; we are not together.”
“We could be, though,” he admonished.
Leaning against the headboard, I deliberated whether or not to share what was on my mind. This discussion needed to happen, and it was now or never.
“I have no intention of starting a relationship with you. I care about you, but I can’t be with you. Not right now. The moment we step back into reality, you will see what I mean. Right now, it’s easy because we have shut the world out. You and I are both very public f
igures, and our livelihoods depend on being in the spotlight. That would mean being apart from each other ninety percent of the time. I can’t do that. We’ve tried that, and it didn’t work. I also need to get myself right. I’m sorry.”
Hunter stared stone-faced into the distance. He knew I was right, despite not wanting to accept it. Arriving in Cleveland would be the blinding truth necessary to reinforce my point. The honeymoon was over. Gripping the pill bottle again, I finally cracked the lid and swallowed another one of the bitter white tablets. Turning to my side before shutting off the light, I watched the veins in his neck strain against the tension building inside of him. Quickly he jumped to his feet, turned on another light and rifled through his suitcase. Removing a pair of running shoes and shorts, he dressed and left the room without a word.
I slept easier, knowing he was blowing off steam in a healthy manner, using his legs over his fists. His rock hard physique made a lot more sense now. It was earned through anger, not necessarily dedication to health. I wasn’t sure I was really ready to go home, but we couldn’t stay here. Weaving in between dreams, the future played in Technicolor bursts. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. The sun was so bright and warm as we ran through grassy fields, laughing and chasing one another playfully. Colliding on a blanket, I cried out hysterically as his fingers tickled my sides. He stopped and smiled down at me, eyes hidden by the sun blinding me from behind him. An echoed voice whispered down.
“It’s not over, Lila. I’m not letting go.”
I reached up and brushed my fingers along his jaw. “Promise me you won’t.”
My eyes closed before I felt the feather light touch of his lips brush against mine. “I promise,” he whispered against them.
I awoke once again to a dark room, yet Hunter was not in the bed. Frightened, I jumped up and peeled the drapes away from the windows. Below, Michigan Avenue bustled with traffic and pedestrians shopping. Turning to check the time, I saw it was ten o’clock in the morning. I knew we had to be on our way soon, and checkout was at noon. I dressed while waiting for Hunter to return. Room service brought me a light breakfast, and I grabbed the laptop that was left on the table with the intention of seeing what was happening in the world.
My email had blown up with several hundred messages.
What the hell.
Ignoring anything associated with the agency, I found most to be media outlets seeking contact for a story. Several reporters were present for the gala and bore witness to the aftermath of my escape. When no one was able to contact me and the connection to Hunter was addressed, the news went crazy. Apparently, my impromptu performance had drawn forth even more speculation as to what was happening in my life. Going against my better judgment, I took a chance and typed my name into a search engine.
Fuck.
Picture after picture of Hunter came up in the search. We were now irrevocably linked to one another, and there was no reason given, causing a whirlwind of rumors to breed across the Internet. I could only read a few stories before shutting down the computer. My sudden resignation had become public knowledge, and Blank Page was left in a bind to answer for my actions. I truly felt sorry for Mr. Nunnery, but Dinah could kiss my ass. I couldn’t care less if I ever crossed paths with that woman again. Suddenly the realization that she may still be trying to contact Hunter crossed my mind. Was he responding? What was he telling her? Was he still trying to get me to sell the story? Is that what this was about?
I refused to believe that he would use me for a paycheck or self-promotion. He didn’t need it. Staring back out the window, I watched the world go on as normal, when mine would never be the same again. The door clicked and Hunter entered quietly. Holding a small plastic bag, he set it down while pulling out the chair next to me. When he scooted the bag towards me, I opened it and pulled out a few small postcards of the Chicago skyline and the fountain. The sweet gesture spoke volumes, yet not as much as his eyes. They were dark and shadowed by the desperate need for sleep. Without asking, I walked over to the phone and called the front desk to reserve another night. If I could give him anything, it was one day of rest. I picked up his phone from the table and turned it off as he silently watched me mill about the room, getting things ready. Pulling him into a standing position, I removed his shirt and guided him to the bed.
He sat softly on the edge as I slipped off his shoes and shorts with a smirk. He returned the smile with a slight one of his own. The sheets were cool and quickly warmed with our bodies under the down comforter. Snuggling under his arm, I rested my head over his chest to feel his heartbeat, and it was not long before I heard the soft snore indicating he had fallen asleep. The only reason we moved for the next ten hours was to relieve ourselves or to order more room service. The television did not come on, nor did the phone ring. I left the bathroom door cracked open so I had enough soft light to study his face as he dreamed. He was so restless and tightly wound. His arms wrapped firmly across my shoulders when I found my way back into his embrace. How I would let him leave again was beyond me. Every moment spent together wore down my resolve, no matter how much I refused to admit to myself that it was going to destroy me. The thought of him touching another woman was more than I could bear; it always was.
Remembering how much had changed in a few days; I knew there were still a few more things left to work themselves out. Being home would help rectify the situation and bring the stability I needed before making any permanent decisions. One thing was certain. I needed Hunter as badly as he needed me. What we wanted was no longer relevant.
We decided to rent a car and drive back to Ohio so we could visit Put In Bay for the afternoon before ending up at my parents’ place for supper. I used Hunter’s phone to call my mom and ask if she would make her famous chicken, but I didn’t have to because she had already bought everything, anticipating the request. It was going to be a little overwhelming, so we enjoyed the calm while we could. The ferry to the small island was charming as the massive Perry’s Memorial monument looked over the harbor. Several mom and pop eateries were scattered among the small gift shops. Hunter found a gorgeous wind chime and suggested we get one for my mom. As the salesman packaged up the gift, I smiled thinking about how nice the dinner was going to be.
The further along I-90 we traveled, the more I anticipated how things were going to go over the next few days. For hours we recalled hilarious moments that had occurred, many relating to my brother who would be joining us. Elijah was especially excited, according to my mom. It had been several years since they had seen one another, although they caught up occasionally on the phone or through emails. Hunter had never met my nieces and nephews, and although it wasn’t necessary, he made sure to purchase a few gifts for them¸ too.
He seemed especially worried about making a good impression; for whatever reason, he felt he owed it for being gone so long. If that was what he needed to feel more comfortable, I knew no one would shy away from the thoughtful items. Using my fingers to firmly massage the muscles in the back of Hunter’s neck, I knew they had to be tense from driving for so long, especially considering how much he had slept the previous night. His eyes held a gleam absent from before. Although we had not yet addressed the conversation, he seemed content on enjoying the moment.
We pulled onto the gravel drive towards the house nestled in the trees. Fireflies danced in the low brush, surrounding the property at dusk. I could see a few people sitting on the porch drinking beer and knew the rest were in the air-conditioned house. My niece Gloria jumped up and down as we parked in the driveway and screamed repeatedly.
“They’re here, Mama! They’re here! Auntie Lila’s here with a boy!”
I giggled at Gloria’s reference to Hunter and picked up the four-year-old bundle of energy for the three seconds she let me hold her. She turned to Hunter with her big blue eyes and became shy, hiding behind my legs.
“Gloria, it’s okay, baby. He’s one of your daddy’s oldest and best friends. He brought you a present,
too, so how about saying hi? I promise he’s okay.”
She peered timidly at a nervous Hunter before slowly moving towards the outstretched bag in his hands. As she snatched it and ran back by me, his eyes grew wide at her comical behavior.
“She’s been learning about strangers, don’t take it personally.”
He nodded and waited for Gloria’s reaction to the bug collection kit he’d picked out for her. Holding up the mesh box and net, she was at a loss.
“What is it, Auntie Lila?” she asked while holding the pieces up.
“Well,” I said taking the pieces and opening up the small hatch. “This is for catching the bugs, and this is so you can look at them for a little bit. But you have to let them go; you can’t keep them. It’s like a bug hotel. You can put anything you want in here.”
Excitedly she ran into the house to show my brother her new presents. We followed after, hand in hand up the stairs and to the front door.
“I think she likes it. Pretty soon she’ll be flirting up a storm with you. Watch that one, she’s definitely a Keaton.”
He looked at me timidly before opening the door. As I reached for the handle, his arm went out to stop me. Before I could ask what was going on, his other arm pulled me close and into a consuming kiss.
“Get off my sister, asshole.”
Breaking apart from each other, we turned around to find my brother walking up the path from behind the house. Immediately Hunter and Elijah went to one another for a hard handshake and hug.
“I never could stay away from her, guess some things never change.”
Eli ignored him and came over to me right away, sweeping me off the ground.
“Welcome home, sis, we missed you. Glad you’re home, except you could have left this thing back in New York.”
The boys laughed heartily while harassing one another. I opened the door and we traveled as a group into the large open kitchen and the waiting crowd.