Opposites Attrack

by Bonnie Dee

  He’d barely had a taste of success and already he was sick of it.

  Only late at night, when he fell into bed exhausted, did he think about the woman next door and wish he could come home to warm arms, a welcoming body and whispered conversations. A few times he almost called Kelly or crossed the hall on a pretext of borrowing something, but he always stopped himself in time. A man had to have a little pride after all.

  The night before the band was due to start the tour with Dead Dogs, Ren came home from a meeting with Stoeffer and encountered Kelly in the hall between their apartments. She was locking her door, cello case supported in one arm, obviously on her way to a concert. Her pale hair was loose and glowed white as the moon in contrast to her black coat and long, black dress.

  “Hey.” He stood in front of his door and raised a hand in greeting.

  “Hi.” She glanced at the door of her apartment like she’d give anything to go back inside.

  “How’ve you been?” He walked over to her, refusing to play the ignoring game any longer.

  “Fine.” She ducked her head and fiddled with the clasp on her case. “And you?”

  “Busy. The tour starts tomorrow. We’ll be on the road for a few months. If I had plants, I’d ask you to come over and water them.” He smiled.

  “Well, good luck.” She looked up at him and smiled too. Her hazel eyes lit up and Ren felt his heart beat faster. “I wish you all the luck in the world. You deserve it. You must be thrilled to be achieving your dreams.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Ren already felt tired and the real pressure hadn’t yet begun.

  “I guess I’d better be going,” Kelly said, starting down the hall.

  “Hey,” he called wanting to stop her just to see her face one more time. “Was the cello damaged at all from the fall?”

  “No. I’m fine--I mean, it’s fine.” She blushed and turned toward the stairs again.

  “Can I carry it downstairs for you? I promise not to drop it.”

  “No, thanks. I’ve got it.” She started down the stairs.

  Ren walked to the top of the landing and watched her descend then disappear through the door.

  It closed behind her.

  “Damn it, I know she likes me,” he whispered. He stood there dreaming up ways to win her over, sure that he could do it given enough time.

  When he got back from the tour, he would put some real effort into the pursuit.

  ***

  In the weeks before Christmas, it got to the point where Kelly couldn’t get through a single day without hearing Loose Threads’ Lay Down, Woman at least once. The song got as much airtime as frigging Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

  The music store where she worked only played classical music, but there was the subway, coffee shops, malls and restaurants. The damn song was in the air everywhere she turned. The only thing that made her able to bear it was the fact that Ren wasn’t the lead singer. If she’d had to hear his sexy voice growl lyrics like, faster, baby, faster. I need to feel your flesh around me, let your love surround me; it would have driven her completely crazy.

  One day, Kelly couldn’t resist. She tuned her TV to VH-1. She had to look it up in the cable guide since she’d never watched the channel. It didn’t take more than ten minutes before Loose Threads came on and Ren’s guitar wailed the opening chords and catchy hook of Lay Down, Woman. There he was, looking different, exotic somehow, on TV.

  She watched with fascination as Ren’s fingers slid up and down the neck of the guitar. She remembered how they had felt on her spine, how they felt moving inside her. She swallowed hard and her pussy grew wet. She forced herself to observe Ren objectively, as a musician, and realized he was quite skilled if you liked rock guitar. But, even if the music didn’t sound good to her, Ren sure looked good. He was, in a word, hot.

  His hair was spiky and wild, flopping where it willed. His eyes were lined in black that accentuated the brilliant cobalt so much it looked like he was wearing blue contacts. Maybe he was. The director had dressed him in black pants and a sleeveless black T-shirt slashed through at random intervals so the viewer caught tantalizing glimpses of naked chest and abdomen.

  Ren didn’t move much, whereas the lead singer ate up the stage, flinging himself around the set, posturing dramatically and making love to the camera. But there were a few moments during Ren’s guitar solo in the middle, when the camera zoomed in on Ren’s hands…and then his face. He glanced up, stared straight into the lens and the image sizzled. His half-lidded gaze was so sultry that Kelly’s crotch clenched. It was as if he was looking directly at her, an intentional move on the director’s part, of course, to make every teen girl watching the video cream her jeans and download the music.

  Kelly’s hand tightened around the remote until her knuckles were white. She should turn it off now, immediately. If she was serious about steering clear of this guy then gaping at his hotness was not going to help. Instead she watched his biceps flex as he bore down on a power chord. She remembered how those lean muscles had felt coiled under her hands.

  Kelly didn’t change the channel until the video was over. By then her panties were wet.

  If she’d simply been sexually attracted to Ren, it would have been bad enough. Unfortunately she liked him, too. She had really enjoyed the evening and the day they had spent together. She couldn’t stop replaying the moments over and over again, especially in bed at night when there were no daytime distractions to keep her safe from her memories. How could she be so obsessed with a guy she’d spent one night and one afternoon with? Even if both had been amazing.

  Christmas Eve was the low point for Kelly. It was her first year without her mom. Granted the woman had been drunk off her ass every holiday since Kelly could remember, but they had still been a family, Kelly, Elise and Mom, celebrating miserable Christmases together. Usually wild child Elise and plastered Mom would end up screaming at each other before the end of the day. It was up to Kelly to calm them down and create a modicum of Christmas peace in her screwed up family.

  This year Elise was supposed to come and spend Christmas Eve at Kelly’s apartment. They were going to have a sisterly overnight and celebrate the day together.

  With typical Elise thoughtlessness, she called late afternoon of the twenty-fourth to say she couldn’t make it. “Sorry, I completely forgot to call earlier. Brad’s taking me to meet his parents.”

  “Brad? That’s the…” Kelly searched her memory, trying to place Elise’s current boyfriend.

  “The accountant. You remember. I told you all about him when I called last time.” Elise paused. “Or…maybe I didn’t, but anyway, we’re doing great. And like I said, it’s meet the parents time. I think this could be it, Kel. I think I’ve finally found a really good guy.”

  “Great. That’s nice. I hope you have a great time.” Kelly tried to put a smile in her voice. God knew, Elise needed the stability of a solid relationship. But Kelly was too used to Elise’s ecstatic high when she acquired a new lover and the inevitable crash and burn that followed. Obsessiveness, drugs, insecurity—Elise’s destructive nature always took its toll.

  “He’s going to give me a ring for Christmas. I just know it! I’m so excited.” Elise sounded wired. Kelly hoped it was nerves and not coke.

  “That’s…great.” Kelly was having a hard time coming up with a different superlative. She thought of all the times she’d had to pick up the pieces after one of Elise’s men hurt her, and prayed that this time really would be different. “Listen, Leesy, I have to go now. My doorbell’s ringing. I have some friends coming over tonight. Hope you have a great time.” She hung up before Elise could say anything more.

  Collapsing back against the couch, Kelly looked around her holiday-decorated apartment. It was fairly depressing to see her little Christmas tree shining valiantly in one corner, the pine wreath with holly berries hanging on the wall and the festive red tablecloth laid out with dishes for two. No wonder people killed themselves during the holidays. I
t was damn lonely. She caught herself daydreaming about Ren again and firmly squelched her thoughts and the desire to tune into VH1 and see if she could catch him again.

  Kelly rose, turned off the Christmas music playing on the stereo and went to her room to spend some quality time with her cello. She drew the instrument from its case, placed it between her knees, closed her eyes and poured her sadness through the bow and across the strings for the next hour and a half. Her old maestro couldn’t have accused her of lack of passion in her playing tonight. When she finally stopped, she was actually perspiring, but she felt a lot better.

  After preparing herself a comfort supper of scrambled eggs and toast, Kelly sat on the couch again and flicked on the TV to watch the news. When the anchor announced breaking news and she saw the image of a mangled bus, she felt like someone had punched her stomach.

  “Low visibility due to heavy snowfall was blamed for the crash on I-95 just outside of Boston. Justin Brown, lead singer of the Dead Dogs, was not on the bus having flown by private plane to the next stop on the tour. Members of the opening band, Loose Threads were also on the bus. Several musicians from both bands have been hospitalized. One death was reported. Identity of the deceased is being withheld until family members have been notified.”

  Kelly’s chest hurt and she felt dizzy. Then she realized she had been holding her breath throughout the report. She let it out shakily.

  This couldn’t be happening. She felt helpless and wired with adrenaline. She wanted to jump up and do something, call someone and find out information, rush to a hospital somewhere, but there was nothing to do but wait and wonder and watch the broadcast as it repeated every half-hour through the night.

  ***

  Jesus fucking Christ, Ren thought as he struggled to open his eyes. It was like the mother of all hangovers pounding in his head. He didn’t remember getting wasted and fought to recall exactly what had happened. Nothing came to him. Finally his eyelids peeled open and he scanned the strange room where he was lying. ‘Hospital,’ his brain informed him.

  “What the hell happened?” he murmured.

  “Ren? Sweetie?” A face loomed over his and he blinked and tried to focus.

  “Mom?” He heard her voice growing alternately loud and so soft he could barely hear it as she explained something about snow and ice and an accident. Again Ren struggled to remember, but the last thing he recalled about being on the bus was telling some groupie no thanks he didn’t want a blow job for Christmas.

  “How’s everybody else?” he croaked.

  “Brian and John were both treated and released. A couple of the guys from the other band are in the hospital with broken bones and head injuries.” His mom paused. “Austen is dead, honey.”

  “Shit.” Ren pictured his friend’s face. The last thing he’d said to him was, “Grow the fuck up and stop being suck a little drama bitch.” He felt terrible. “Shit!” he said louder, drawing a deep breath that made his chest ache and set him coughing.

  “You’ve got some broken ribs, a sprained ankle, some bad bruising, both internal and external and a concussion, but otherwise you’re okay,” his mom said. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”

  Ren eyes drifted close again. His head hurt too much to wrap his mind around the idea of the accident and Austen’s death. In another moment he was asleep again.

  When he woke again, he stared at the sunlight leaking through the cracks between the blinds for a few seconds then slowly turned his head on the pillow. His eyes seemed to take a minute to catch up with his head and he realized he was on some heavy drugs. He couldn’t think straight at all. Somewhere at the edges of his mind there was some bad news, but he didn’t want to think about it right now.

  Instead, he thought about Kelly, how her silky skin felt in his hands and how her body moved beneath his. Her feminine moans and gasps filled his mind and he closed his eyes once more and lost himself in her. It was crazy. He’d only been with her once and still she haunted him. He wanted nothing right now except to see her again…and to keep floating in this nice bubble where pain didn’t exist.

  “Hey, Ass. I know you’re awake.”

  He opened his eyes again. They roamed a moment then settled on the person who had spoken, a girl with long red hair, a pert, freckled nose and a big shit-eating grin.

  “Hey, Bitch,” he croaked. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She went back to the hotel to get some rest. Looks like I’m on Ass watch for a while.”

  “How did you get here?” he mumbled.

  “Flew in, duh. How are you feeling?” Emily bent down and gave him a careful hug.

  “High.”

  “That’s good. You scared the crap out of everybody. Mom flew to Boston right away and I came as soon as I could. All the steps and the ex-dads have called to make sure you’re okay. Mom left Jayce at home with Mike. The kid was really upset so you should call him as soon as you can.”

  The concern of all of his half and step-siblings made Ren feel like crying. Or maybe it was the drugs. “I will.”

  “I guess they’re going to release you soon. I told mom I’d get you settled in at home and look after you for a while. She can’t really afford the time off and I’ve got vacation days coming. How’s that sound?”

  “Great. You’ll see my new apartment.” In his mind he added, ‘And with any luck, meet my neighbor.’

  ***

  After working six hours at the music store on Thursday, Kelly came home to find Ren’s rust and gun-metal gray Camaro parked in front of the apartment building. He was home! Her heart leaped and she hurried inside. All week she had been anxious for his return, wondering when he would be released from the hospital.

  The news reports about the accident had quickly trailed off as bigger, more current events took place. Other than learning that Loose Threads’ lead singer had died in the accident and several other musicians had suffered various degrees of injury, Kelly had heard nothing new since the previous week.

  As she climbed the stairs, she thought about what she would say when Ren answered his door. ‘Hi. I heard about your accident. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay. Oh, and by the way, can I come in and jump your broken bones? I’m so hot for you baby, you have no idea.’

  Kelly was halfway up the stairs when she heard voices. She froze, looking up at the landing where a pretty, red-haired woman was guiding Ren down the hall toward his apartment. She had her arm around his waist. The pair of them laughed and joked, comfortable and familiar. Two weeks on the road and already he’d taken up with some groupie bimbo. Or maybe the redhead was someone he knew from before. Either way, it was clear they were having a great time together.

  Kelly felt like an idiot for thinking he might be happy to see her, for imagining that she would welcome him home and play nurse during his recovery. Obviously that post was already filled.

  She waited quietly on the stairs until the couple disappeared inside Ren’s apartment then she ascended the last few steps and retreated to her own apartment, heartsick and depressed.

  He wasn’t interested in her. It had been a one-night stand, pure and simple. Hip rocker guys like Ren and quiet workaholics like her simply didn’t belong together. They were from two different worlds. She had been a fool for confusing one night of sexual abandon with something more permanent.

  Kelly didn’t go across the hall to welcome Ren home that night after all, but she thought about him all evening and as she lay in bed that night.

  She thought about him the next day at the music store and during her after-school cello lessons with Yvonne and Martin. She barely corrected Martin’s tuneless scraping her mind was so caught up with Ren.

  By the time she arrived home that day, she’d come to the conclusion that it was extremely childish of her to ignore his presence. He was, after all, her neighbor. She would be a grown up and do the neighborly thing, take over a casserole and tell him she was sorry about the accident and his loss.

  A
n hour later, Kelly stood outside Ren’s door, a small lasagna dish in hand. She listened to the strange twanging of an unplugged electric guitar coming from inside the apartment and willed herself to ring the bell. Finally she pressed the button and fixed a smile on her face as the music stopped and uneven footsteps came toward the door.

  Ren answered, balancing on one foot and leaning on the doorframe. As usual, his hair looked like he’d come straight from bed and made a woman want to take him back to it. When he saw her, he grinned and his eyes glowed like blue neon in his battered face. Kelly felt wrong for finding the bruises so hot looking.

  “Hey, you forgot to water my plants,” he quipped.

  “You don’t have any.” She smiled and held up her dish. “I just wanted to say glad you’re okay and I’m sorry about your friend.”

  Ren’s smile dimmed. “Austen. Guy bugged the hell out of me, but, man, I’m going to miss him. I feel terrible for his family.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kelly repeated.

  “Thanks.” He shook his head then gave a small shrug to signal a change in subject. “So, I noticed the symphony is playing tomorrow night. I’d love to come and watch you work.”

  She glanced at his bruised face and down at his wrapped leg. “Really?”

  He followed her gaze. “It looks worse than it is. It’s just a sprain. And I have some taped up ribs, but I’m sure I can sit through a two hour concert.”

  “If you’re sure you want to,” she said doubtfully, “I can get you some tickets.”

  “Good.” His disarming grin flashed again. “It’s a date.”

  Just then the red-haired woman from the hallway came up behind Ren. She peered around Ren’s shoulder at Kelly with an intrigued expression.

  He glanced at her and made introductions. “This is Emily. Emily, my neighbor, Kelly.”

  Kelly’s heart sank. It looked like the beautiful redhead was a permanent houseguest. She nodded at the woman. “Pleased to meet you.”

  The girl stuck out her arm past Ren, forcing Kelly to shake her hand. “Hi! So you’re the neighbor.” Emily stared at her hard.