Please, Pretty Lights (Pretty Lights #1)

by Ina Zajac

  He stood over her with a silly smile on his face and reminded her of a boy from the playground back home; the one who used to chase her. He had been nice. He had never called her Rabbit like the other boys. She pulled her head back out of the water and heard her ears pop again. Hearing what sounded like Weezer’s “Island in the Sun” wafting in from Matt’s bedroom heightened her already awesome mood.

  “We can’t possibly be on W already,” she said.

  “You’ve made me forget about the A to Z thing,” he said. “You’re pretty,” he added as he placed a folded towel between her neck and the hard edge of the tub.

  “You said that when we first met,” she said. “You knew I needed to hear it.”

  “And you wouldn’t come over to me,” he said. “You stood there in the doorway and made me come over to you.” He sighed. “Why wouldn’t you come to me?”

  “I was nervous.” It was hard to look at him, though she didn’t know why.

  “You were training me, like a dog.”

  She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice. Geez, he was adorable.

  "Sorry if I’ve used too much,” he said as he began massaging shampoo into her hair. “I’ve never washed a girl’s hair, ever.”

  “Really? I figured it was a fetish.”

  He had used a lot. She could feel the lather developing from the circular motion of his hands. His fingers rhythmically pressed and swirled into her hair and she could hear microbubbles popping in excitement. She tried not to think about the bubbles dying. She was in love with the moment. She let her head fall back into his hands. This was better than any sex she had ever had. He brought his thumbs to the back of her head and pressed them down along the muscles of her neck. A hot rush of pure pleasure sprang from his thumbs and ran the length of her body. Her toes curled in thanks. Before she could recover he started working his way back up, and she heard herself moan, “Oh my God. Don’t stop.”

  “I won’t.” He laughed. “Just remember how you feel right now, and that I like really you.”

  He really was like that boy from the playground.

  “I wish I wasn’t marrying Dan,” she said.

  She felt him withdraw his hands and stand up.

  “Why did you have to mention him?” His voice was dark and fractured. “Damn, I can’t even look at you now.”

  He walked out. No, she thought. Don’t leave. She ducked back down into the water trying her best to get the shampoo out. She got out of the tub and put on the white terry cloth robe draped over the countertop. It looked exactly like the one she had worn at Hotties when he had painted her. She wrapped her head in a towel, which also looked like it had come from the Hotties locker room. There wasn’t time to look in the mirror. And, if he loved her, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  “I can go fix this. I can go fix this,” she told herself as she pulled the robe tight against her damp body. A million thoughts spun within her skull, but only one mattered. The man downstairs was the one she wanted. He made her want to be herself, to figure out what that meant. She made her way toward the stairs and tried to think of what to say. When she looked down and saw him at the bottom of the stairs, it was like she hadn’t seen him in a year. They couldn’t waste any more time.

  He didn’t look the slightest bit mad. “I bet you’re cold,” he said. “Let’s get into my bed. That’s a big step for me.”

  “You’re not mad anymore?” And then she realized it must be the Molly. That’s why his mood had turned so hard. She felt it too. Like her high was wavering, petering out.

  “Nah, I’m sorry. I’ll just write a song about it.”

  “You’ll write a song—about us?”

  She studied his expression, trying to figure out his mood. She had done that with her father so many times, but his angst had never been this subtle. This was dramatic, but it felt safe. They were high, but she knew it was real. They would never forget this. The look they shared felt like magic, like it had already happened someplace else. Maybe where the pretty lights danced.

  “Come to me,” he said.

  Recognition rolled through her. She knew this moment. It was exactly where she was supposed to be. “But, your bedroom is up here,” she said. She could feel another euphoric wave. He took a few steps up, so she took a few steps down. He took a few more steps and so did she. They met at the landing.

  He unwrapped the towel, tossed it aside, and tousled her damp hair. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and leaned in. She felt the presence of the orange painting above them. It seemed to be smiling down on them, giving its blessing. It evoked in her the comfort of eternity. She knew it was his painting; it felt like him. Before she could ask, his fingers were skimming down the front of her robe. His eyes looked black and urgent, like he’d had an epiphany.

  “Kiss me,” he said.

  He grabbed her by the belt, reeled her in, and kissed her. His mouth activated every cell in her body. It seemed they were meeting and merging at a molecular level. She fanned her arms out and let him untie her robe. “Right here, ” she said. “Your bedroom is a million miles away.”

  He pushed the robe back off her shoulders and cast it out onto the carpeted landing. He leaned her back, kissing her neck as he guided her down. He wasn’t far behind. With her eyes closed, it felt like they were falling backwards in slow motion. His kisses made their way down and paused just below her collarbone. And then she felt the fluffy robe again, against her back. She pulled him in, and held him close.

  A sense of hope warmed her. It connected them. Just like a love potion, she realized. She found it fitting that what he had first done with his brush he was now doing with his lips. Except this time she wasn’t ticklish. He didn’t ravish her as she had hoped. It felt more like worship, and that was okay too. She needed to feel him; she helped him out of his clothes. Finally, she felt his skin against hers. Finally, she felt a rush of relief. Space swirled around them, while time slowed to a stop just for them. More kissing, for hours maybe.

  All time was now. Countless lives were now. Now was all anyone ever had, all they ever needed. There was no need for forever. His voice broke into her awareness. “Are you okay?” His whisper tickled her ear.

  She nodded and tried to say, “Forever is now,” but couldn’t speak, too caught up in the moment. He cradled the back of her head in his hand. He rocked her so slow, so close. They belonged to each other now, and he felt so good she couldn’t stand it. She nuzzled her face against side of his neck so she could breathe him in. More and more, she needed more of him. Bringing her arms back down around him, she held on tight. She was never going to be the same. When she wasn’t lost in him she was transfixed by the orange sky above them.

  CHAPTER 18

  VIA

  VIA WAS GETTING orange paint all over her arms and wrists. It felt cold and tacky against her skin.

  “Look, Miss Via. Look,” Nate said. “Cool, right?”

  She couldn’t miss the autumn leaf art he was thrusting into her face. “Very cool,” she said. “Now go and wash your hands. The others have already gone on to the chapel. You don’t want to miss the message today. It’s on Jonah and the whale.”

  She tried to push the hair away from her face with her own shoulder, but it wasn’t working out.

  Suddenly, Beth’s clean, dry fingers pushed the offending strands back behind Via’s ear. She was grateful Matt had refused to give her a hickey three days earlier. She’d never had one and had been curious, but he had told her that she needed to respect his boundaries. She felt a warm smile rise up onto her cheeks.

  “You seem happy today,” Beth said. “Did you get call from Dan?”

  “No,” came through her lips, hard and fast.

  Matt hadn’t called or texted either, but she was trying not to think about it.

  “He says you’ve been playing phone tag,” she said. “And I guess phone service is bad. I think they’re in Kenya, now, right?”

  That was the kind of information she shoul
d know, but she hadn’t talked to Dan in more than a week. It was hard lying to Beth, so she just looked down and pretended to wipe something off the table.

  “I think I told you, I’ve got that new volunteer thing starting tonight.”

  “At the domestic violence shelter, right?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Such a wonderful way to keep yourself busy. I’m sure they are happy to have someone willing to work over night. But, should I be worrying about you?”

  Oh no. What was she going to do? What if she knew about Hotties, about Matt?

  “I know shelter locations are supposed to be secure,” Beth said. “You’ll be safe there, right?”

  Oh, she thought as she took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. It’s safe. That’s why I can’t tell anyone where it is, for security.” The lie just slithered across her tongue. It tasted foul.

  “It’s wonderful you are serving women in need. I bet your mother would have been so proud.”

  Via reeled back. Why would Beth throw that in her face? Especially now. Shame soaked her to the bone. Why had she decided to use an overnight shelter as an alibi for the future Matt adventures she hoped to be having? Had she, at some level, been thinking that was where she really should be?

  Beth looked concerned and pulled Via in for a hug. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said. “But I want us to be close. I want you to know I’m here for you.”

  Via accepted Beth’s hug though she knew she didn’t deserve such kindness. She closed her eyes. She wanted it to be enough. She wanted Beth’s love to be enough.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s just hard for me to talk about. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing?” Beth held her a little too tight. “Whatever for?” She pulled away just enough to look Via in the eye. Via looked down, but felt Beth’s questioning eyes.

  Without looking up she told her the truth. “I was just a kid. I didn’t know what it all meant. I just wanted to be left alone. That’s why my uncle sent me here to Washington, to Bethany Christian, so people would leave me alone. So people would forget about me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Via pulled away. “No, that’s exactly what I mean, Beth. People pitied me. They wanted me to cry and talk about it. Be some kind of poster child. I was supposed to discover God’s plan for me, inspire the world.”

  Beth’s took a step back, but gave a reassuring smile. Her voice was soft, but steady. “I need to ask you something, from a place of love,” she said. “Did you ever have counseling? Real counseling? More than just prayer circles?”

  Via realized she had already said too much. She had to put some distance between Beth’s love and her own hate. She just wasn’t ready. If they put her into counseling, they would find out she was crazy too. Just like Daddy.

  “I can’t do this right now.”

  “I know it’s difficult with Dan gone. I know I miss his father when he travels,” Beth added, her voice suddenly wavering. “I miss his voice, having him around.”

  Via wondered why she didn’t feel that way about Dan. Shouldn’t she feel that way too?

  “I’m here, whenever you want to talk,” Beth said. “You should go, so you don’t miss your ferry.”

  She should have rushed into Beth’s arms and hugged her. Said something special. Instead, she just turned and walked away. She had a meeting at Hotties and didn’t want to be late.

  ***

  VIA

  CARLOS HAD CALLED the day before, just a quick call. He’d said he needed her help with something—very polite, professional. She couldn’t think of an excuse, and her curiosity got the better of her. Plus, she hated to tell people no. It was the reason she handled the Bethany Christian auction every year, and the gift-wrap sale, and the bake sales. It was why she was teaching youth group. Why she had helped Matt and Nick with the home tour.

  As she walked into Carlos’s cave of an office, she couldn’t help but feel the wrongness of it all. She wanted to chalk it up to the decor. She hadn’t really paid much attention to it the first time she had been there; it reminded her of a video game, like a troll’s dwelling. There were no torches or lanterns lining the walls, just a lava lamp on top of the bar. Most everything was black—the bar chairs, the long leather couch, the shiny cement floor. The one glaring exception sat atop the mirrored black-lacquered coffee table in front of them. It was that fancy, white-marbled box with gold trim. Next to it, four lines ready to go.

  “You interested in a little skiing?” he asked. “Please join me. Help me sample the product.”

  She felt an excited flutter in her stomach. “Alright.”

  “Here, ladies first.” He leaned in with the straw, the great deliverer.

  She took the straw and felt giddy. Just holding it brought about the pre-high, knowing brilliant happiness was just a few seconds away.

  “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you,” he said as she leaned over and made the white powder go bye-bye.

  He was still talking when she sat back, pinched her hand over her nose, and sniffed hard. “I hope you don’t mind me being so forward, but as manager and owner, I have a good sense of what men find appealing. I have the best girls in town.” He was talking super fast. He seemed pretty high already. “I’ve got three clubs in Portland, too. Gaming too. Did you know that?”

  “Like casinos? No, I didn’t, but Nick said you were big time.”

  He laughed. “Nick is the smart one. But watch out, he’s a bigger slut than Mattais.”

  A dull thud smacked into her solar plexus, but the pain was quickly drowned in a flood of cocaine-induced joy. Matt’s history was none of her business, she reminded herself. But wait, it was. Had she really had unprotected sex with some guy in a band? She couldn’t stop replaying their special day in her head. What if it had all been in her head? Had she really confessed the truth about her parents? Had she really cheated on Dan?

  “They’ve worked for me since they were kids,” Carlos was saying. “Like fifteen, sixteen years old. They used to come for open mike at the Rainy City Tavern, that’s mine too, you know.

  She had never heard of it.

  “It’s at the Admiral Junction, just down the road from Nick’s house. When I first saw them, they were on skateboards. Mattais, on a skateboard with his guitar.”

  “Guitar?” she asked. “You mean bass guitar, right?”

  “Sure, whatever. He looked like a little goober,” he laughed at his own burn. “Nick used our drum set. Nick was always the shit. A band is only as good as its drummer, you know, and Nick is on fire. Mattais is decent.”

  She smiled as she remembered their “Drums are the heartbeat, bass is the spine” explanation.

  “When they turned eighteen, they started here.” Carlos spewed his words closer. More and more words. “Hotties is my base of operations. Back then, they were cocky as fuck. They were sure they would be famous within the year. I’ve tried to help them out. They’re like brothers to me, really.”

  His manner was easy, but she saw him roll his eyes. It was just like the way the pastor’s bitchy wife Sarah had complimented Beth’s banana bread at youth group the week before. “It is delightful,” she had said. “Well, considering she can’t use walnuts. It must be hard to be creative when you cook for children with allergies. Though I think this must be from a box—which is fine, of course.”

  “What does Matt do, other than paint girls?”

  “He does henna sometimes, and—“ He hesitated and started messing with the blow in front of him. “Interested in Mattais, are you.” He stated it not as a question, but as an irritating matter of fact. “He runs errands for me,” he said. “He also hosts some regular clients too. He makes sure they have a good time. Nick too. Chris, J.R., and Leon do most of the bouncing.”

  His words faded into the background. She hyper-focused on her next line. He must have noticed.

  “Here, baby. Do another. You’ll notice I only use straws cut to size. Bills are dirty. I don’t n
eed Mattais to tell me that.”

  She sucked up the next line and couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have befriended Carlos. He could keep her very high. Everything was amazing.

  “He and Nick like to play it nice, but they aren’t any better than the frat boys who come in here—boys playing boy games.”

  He leaned in, put his hand against the side of her waist, and looked into her eyes.

  “But, I’m sure you’re too smart for that.”

  He latched his fingers into the belt loop on the back of her jeans. “Best not to get sidetracked with a guy who can’t help you get ahead,” he said as he released his grip and sat back again. “I always tell my girls to stay selfish. It’s funny, I never, ever have to remind the guys.”

  She was confused, but felt so good she just wanted to soak in her high. She would just listen, go with it, and then deconstruct the conversation later. People always wanted to talk. She knew they needed to be heard.

  “You know, Miss Via-Vixen, you’ve got a powerful thing going on. Your look is versatile.”

  “I don’t really want be a stripper,” she confessed, her heart galloping, her nerves overtaking her. “I don’t want to lap dance. I’d be too nervous.” Would he toss her out of his office?

  He didn’t seem fazed. “I’d like to go over my plans for you.”

  She straightened up and looked at him. “Plans?”

  “Here is how this place works,” he said. “Most men who come in will have a type in mind already. Some like petite Asian anime types; we have a few of those. Some enjoy blue hair, pierced nipples, ink; we have that, too. Alicia rocks the cougar act. And for clients who want the obvious blonde slut type, we’ve got several. You’ve met Kaytlyn.”