by M Dauphin
For Us © February 2016 by M. Dauphin
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First Edition February 2016
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For Us
M. Dauphin
Braydon
Six months ago, I read a letter that changed the way I thought about life. Six months ago, I kissed a girl and welcomed in a slew of emotions that I didn’t feel were right to have. It’s been six months, and, even though we have yet to actually mention anything about being in a committed relationship, this is the closest I’ve ever come to being in one in my almost thirty years on this planet. The way she smiles brightens even my darkest days. The way she laughs can turn any of my many sour moods back to sunshine and fucking rainbows. Even though I know she’s the only girl for me, I still can’t find it in myself to take the next step. To tell someone those three little words, and to explain to him or her just how long you’ve been feeling that way is a huge step… one that could ruin people. I don’t think it’d ruin us. I know she feels something for me. I just need to grow a pair and tell her.
It’s been almost eight months to the day since Lane passed. My best friend... my brother. I’ve moved past the anger, and the complete sadness, that encased me wholly for the weeks following his death. I’m past the feelings of guilt I get when I think about wanting in Alexis in a way I’ve never had her before. I’m ready to move forward, but I don’t think she is.
We haven’t had sex yet.
I know it’s a matter of time, and I’m being patient and kind about it, but I'm not certain anyone understands just how much I want to sink inside her and claim her as my own. No, she’s not dating anyone else, and neither am I, but I know she’s having a hard time still with the guilt from being with her deceased boyfriend’s best friend. The letter he wrote her helped her realize that she belongs here, in LA… and I think it helped her start to open up to me more, but I’m scared shitless to lose her, so I’m letting her pick the speed of our relationship.
Last night, she got a call for an interview tomorrow from one of our old friends that we haven’t talked to in years: Alden McVee. He opened a management business for celebrities, and somehow got word that Alexis was back in town and looking for a gig. To say she’s excited for the interview tomorrow is an understatement. She’s been living in Lane’s old place since she moved back, and I was able to hear her singing all fucking night last night because she’s too damn happy about the possibility of being able to support herself with her own hard-earned money. These past couple months have been hard on her, but she’d never tell me that.
“Hey, man, the fuck you daydreaming about over there?” Gabe shouts from the stage. We’re practicing earlier than usual today because we need to make sure tonight’s perfect. There’s a producer that’s said to be coming to check us out for a fifth time, meaning he wants to sign us, but he wants to be sure he’s not making a mistake.
Meaning after tonight, we might be a signed group.
Holy shit.
“Coming, coming,” I mumble, setting my phone down on the table.
I’ve been waiting for Al to text me all day, but she hasn’t since her daily ‘wake up’ text before the goddamned sun.
Ever since she’s moved back, I see a little more of her old self trying to shine through. She used to get up and run in the morning, and, while she isn’t exactly to that stage right now in her recovery, she still gets up just as early.
I take the guitar off its stand and place it over my shoulder. The songs we’re playing tonight are new to the fans, but they’re something the band has been playing for months in preparation. Ever since the accident, the whole feel of the band has changed. We aren’t just fucking around anymore. We’re taking it more seriously, and making more mature music, in my honest opinion. I think we have a shot at really making it if the right producer signs us on, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have to practice anymore.
Making any adjustments needed on my Fender, I nod at our drummer and he starts the beat for the first song in our set. The room is dark, one light shining on the stage, and, in mere seconds, all five of us are into the song. Gabe’s vocals start flowing through the room, and I close my eyes, feeling the song as I felt it the night I wrote it.
The songs we play aren’t typically emotional songs, but this one is such a raw and honest song that the rest of the band decided it needs to be the first song in the set.
When I wrote this song, I was in a bad place. I was unhappy with the way my life was headed, and I had just found out that my best friend was dying. I had no one to lean on, so I turned to my music for release. The instant the band heard the lyrics, they were all over creating the perfect instrumental to go along with it. Now, standing on stage, and hearing Gabe belt out the words I wrote, is surreal.
By the end of the song, I’m fighting back tears and, when the song ends, the entire room is still. Matt clears his throat and breaks the silence.
“So then… uh… I think we’re good on that one.”
Gabe’s eyes meet mine and he feels it, too. He knows. He’s sung that song enough that he knows exactly what it’s about.
I didn’t just write that song as an ‘I’m sad’ song. Deep down, at the core of the song… when the lyrics are picked apart and stripped… it’s a love song. It’s an ‘I’m so sad for you it hurts’ song.
Because I couldn’t help her when she needed someone to save the day. I couldn’t help then, but I’ve been given a second chance, and I’m not about to let her down again.
I nod, and we start the next set of songs, going from one to another without a break in between. We play like we’re playing for the best producers in the area when all we’re playing to is an empty room. When we’ve gone through the entire set, two full times, we’re all ready for a break.
Heading out to my car, ready for a few hours of down time before I have to get back here to set up for tonight, Gabe stops me right as I open the door to my car.
“Hey, man!” he yells from the back door of the bar. I turn and look at him, resting my hand on the top of my door and give him a look that tells him I’m not about to come back in there. “You sure you’re good with that for tonight? She’ll be here, you know.” He walks towards me, and flicks a cigarette butt to the ground, stepping on it before he continues his trek to me.
“What’re you asking me, Gabe? I need to get out of here for a while.” I sigh, not wanting to have this conversation right now. He knows how I feel about her, and he won’t let it go.
“Alexis will be at the show tonight, Braydon. She’s never heard this song before, but, from anyone
close to you, it’s more than a sad song. She’s going to see through the words, and know the meaning before the halfway point. It’s a fucking love song, man.” He smiles and winks. “I mean, as long as you’re okay with me singing it to her.” I punch his arm, and he grabs it like it really hurt him.
“Shut it, man. Go text your internet girlfriend.” I slide into my car and, as I shut the door, he grumbles something at me, obviously still pissed about me telling the entire band and every patron I could about his online dating life.
“Don’t be late tonight,” he says as I roll the window down and pull out of the parking lot. I wave him off out my window and head out, enjoying the open windows and the crisp afternoon air of LA.
I’m not worried about Al knowing what this song really is. The words I used aren’t deliberate in making it a love song, and only someone as close to me as Gabe is would know it means more than just being a song for Lane and the loss I’ve experienced. The rest of the band is clueless, so she should be, too.
Right?
God, I hope so.
Making it back to the apartment, I leave the car windows cracked and head inside. I’m getting used to the downstairs apartment belonging to someone other than Lane, probably because Al lived here with him for a time before the accident, so it feels normal having her here. Knocking on her door, I hear her yell to come on in, so I let myself in through the unlocked door.
I really wish she’d lock shit when I'm not around. I don’t know why it bothers me so much since you need a key to get into the building, but I know she isn’t as agile as she used to be, and, if she would need to defend herself without me here, it might not end well.
“Hey, you.” She smiles over the screen of her laptop, and pushes the reading glasses she’s wearing to the top of her head. In yoga pants and a tank top, with her hair cascading down her back, she’s the epitome of comfy and sexy all wrapped into one.
Fuck me, she’s gorgeous.
“How’d your day go?” Walking to the kitchen to grab some water, I take a seat at the dining room table, and notice the small things around the place that she’s changed since moving in.
She took out Lane’s clothes right away, and donated them, keeping a couple of his old t-shirts that I know she still likes to wear to bed. It doesn’t bother me, I like that she’s not throwing away his memory just like that. She opted to keep most of the furniture, but added quite a few female touches to the place right off the bat. It now has that ‘homey’ feel that the bachelor pad was missing.
Hell, my place is missing it, too.
The greenery on the side tables, the pillows on the couch… All of the small things I don’t have time for, nor did Lane, she’s put into this apartment to make it her own without wiping out his memory completely. I love that about her. She’s slowly moving on, but she’ll never forget him.
Neither will I.
“Spent the day looking into this company I’m interviewing with tomorrow. Did a little shopping for just the right outfit. Had lunch. It’s been very… boring. It’s been a boring day.” She laughs and lays her head on the table. “God, Bray, I just want to have something to do.” She groans into her arms, then sits up and looks at me. “Are you excited for tonight?!”
She’s always been a huge supporter of my music, and, for as long as I remember, has tried to come to any show she could. I’m certain there are songs she could sing better than Gabe if she tried, but she’s never once showed interest in being a part of the band, so I’ve never pushed. I’ve heard her voice, though, and it’s just about as damn beautiful as she is.
“Yeah,” I say, sighing. “I’m stoked. I hope it all goes well, and Gabe doesn’t forget the words.”
She laughs at the one time in the entire history of the band that Gabe was so drunk over a breakup before the show that he completely forgot what song we were singing, and ended up crying on stage. It was a complete disaster at the time, but it helped get our name out there, and, when you’re a beginning level band, any publicity is good publicity.
“I bet you guys are going to be amazing.” She smiles her genuine beautiful Alexis smile, and I instinctively reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. Smaller than mine by only a little bit, it fits perfectly in my hand. Her light skin highly contrasts my tanned skin with black ink all over.
“Thank you,” I say, leaning over the table to kiss her gently. Her lips caress over mine and, when the moan escapes her lips, I’m a goner. I really do try to control myself with her, but she’s too sexy and I’m only human. Standing, I help her up and it doesn’t take long for us to make our way to the couch, hands roaming each other’s bodies and my cock so fucking hard it hurts being restrained in these jeans. One fucking kiss from her, and I’m ready to go, but, as soon as we get to that point of going any further, she stops me.
“I have to get ready,” she pants, her hand going to my chest, the sign to slow the fuck down. One of these days, she’s going to let me undress her and worship her body, but I know she’s not ready. She’s so fucking beautiful, but she’s still stuck in the self-conscious stage and it drives me nuts.
“You look beautiful like this, Al. It doesn't matter what you wear tonight,” I whisper, my lips finding her ear lobe. She gasps and leans back, pushing me away.
“I know, I know… You need to be presentable for all the people you’re going to see tonight that you know.” I groan and she laughs, standing from the couch.
“Plus, I have to get ready to beat the ass of any other chick that plans on throwing themselves at you.” She winks at me and helps me off the couch, then pushes me out the door and kisses me quickly before slamming the door on me and laughing from behind it.
This woman… she’ll be the end of me.
Alexis
How long am I going to make him wait? How much longer is he going to put up with me pushing him away before letting him strip me down and see me raw? Hell, tonight was a close one. Now, I’m standing on the other side of the door, leaning against it, just trying to catch my breath. Believe me, I want nothing more than to be with him, but I’m not the girl with the body I used to flaunt at the beach. I haven’t been working out, and I’m missing half my leg! It’s only been a few months, but I still don’t feel like I have the sex appeal I used to have, and the fact that, the minute he takes off my clothes, he’s going to be reminded of how broken I really am kind of scares the shit out of me.
Not that I don’t want him to. Hell, I saw the bulge in his jeans. I’ve heard him in the shower, I know exactly what I do to him, and it turns me on like crazy. There’ve been days where I’ve spent the entire day wishing I’d have fucked him already just because of one wink on his way to work or one chaste kiss before leaving to go to the gym. Tonight was no different. He’s got me so worked up tonight that I can practically feel the wetness in my panties.
Squeezing my thighs together, I push back the urge to finish this by myself, and head to the bedroom to pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.
I’ve only been out a handful of times since I’ve moved back, and moving back is a lose term since I’m in Santa Barbara three times a week still for physical therapy so half of my belongings are still there, but, every time I’ve gone out, it’s been to something low key and I haven’t had to worry about what I looked like, really. This time, though… this time’s different. This time there’s going to be people there that haven’t seen me since the accident. These are people that I’d rather not have to mingle with, because I don’t want to hear how ‘sorry’ they are for my loss. It’s all complete bullshit. If they were truly sorry, they’d have visited, or came to the funeral, or something. Something to tell me that they were still here for me when I needed someone. Nope, the only people that have been here for me the last few months are my parents, Pete, and Braydon. That’s it.
And I’m completely okay with that.
The only reason I’m going tonight is to be a supporter for my best friend… boyfriend? Can I call him that? We kind of j
ust fell into this routine when I moved back of kisses and making out and talking all damn day… but we’ve never actually made it official. I mean, from what I know, he hasn’t had any other girls over and he spends every night either at the bar or with me, so I don’t think he’s sleeping with anyone else anymore, and I’m definitely not… but it’d be nice to know what to call him.
I no longer feel bad about being with him. The letter I got from Lane was enough to tell me it’s okay to move on, and it was obvious whom I’d be moving on to. I’ll never stop loving Lane, and I’ll never forget him, but he’s not here with me anymore, and I need to start living my life.
My phone rings, bringing me out of my daydream, and I race across the apartment to grab it, praying it’s one of the many other places I’ve applied to.
“Hey, you,” Pete’s voice croons over the phone. “I’ve missed your ass, Alexis.”
Pete, my childhood friend, would be completely okay with me leaving LA behind and moving home to be his straight best friend.
“I know. I’m sorry. With the move and everything,” I huff. “It’s just been hectic.”
“How’s LA?” He strains ‘LA’, as if him hating the place would make me want to move home.
“It’s great, Pete. It is. I’m finally starting to feel a little more like myself.” I lie, but at least I’m a little happier here than I was at my parents.
“How’s Braydon?” I roll my eyes at his blunt question, knowing full well how much I hate to answer that question.
Only because I really don’t know how to answer it.
“He’s fine, P. How’s Ben?”
“Oh, you know…” He trails off and I smile. I love how coy they both are about each other. It’s too damn cute. “He’s good…. Working or… some… shit…”
“You guys ever going to come out to the public with this?”
“Hey, Alexis, I have a call coming in. I’m gonna have to call you back.” I roll my eyes again, smiling when he hangs up abruptly.