The Stage (Phoenix Rising #1)

by Shelby Rebecca

  I shake my head to deaden the trance and open the drawer of the tall dresser, finding some light pink cotton pajamas. I take them with me into the bathroom in the hallway. It hurts to take my clothes off, but once I’m soaking in the water, I smell the telltale evidence of garlic and onions and other yummy food scents coming from the kitchen. After drying off, I put the pajamas on without anything underneath. I leave my feet bare, because he’d asked me not to hide them. It feels weird, but I do it anyway. I have to start somewhere.

  The pajamas have a just cleaned scent. I wrap my hair in a towel and walk out to him. He looks me up and down, smiling at my bare feet and stares at my top for a little too long. I think it’s see-through. I cross my arms over myself and sit down to eat.

  “Don’t cover yourself around me,” he demands. “I love your body. Someday, I’ll worship those breasts, so don’t deny me seeing them now.” I uncross my arms, but say nothing. It’s like they heard him. I feel my nipples swell and reach out to him. He bites his bottom lip, smiles, and sets my plate down on the table.

  “I made spaghetti,” he says. “Do you like garlic?”

  “Hell yeah,” I say. “Before I started on the show, my best friend Kaya took me to The Stinking Rose in San Francisco. They put, basically, raw garlic in a cup and give you bread to dip into it. I ate it until my gut ached.”

  “I’ve never been there,” he tells me, ripping a piece of bread apart and dipping it in the red sauce. “What’s with the name?”

  “You know, like the garlic is a stinky rose! There’s even a devious looking garlic in the window that looks like a ghost.”

  “I was going to open a bottle of wine, but—you’re not twenty-one yet. When’s your birthday?” he asks nonchalantly as I catch myself staring at his chest and abs.

  “December tenth,” I answer shamelessly, taking a big bite.

  “Well then, December tenth next year, I’m taking you to The Stinking Rose with the ghost garlic in the window. And I’m going to buy you your first bottle of wine and dip bread in garlic sauce with you.”

  “That sounds like a perfect twenty-first birthday. Who needs clubs and getting drunk until you puke? Not me!” We both laugh and twirl noodles on our forks. While we slurp, we talk like never before. About songs we like, and bands we don’t—like he’s not a fan of Bon Jovi, and I wrote him love mail when I was a kid. So, on that, we disagree.

  After I take the towel off my head, we talk about our favorite candy: mine, anything with peanut butter. His, purple Laffy Taffy. We do the dishes together and end our conversation about who’s scarier, Jason or Freddie Kruger as he offers to put on a movie.

  “But Freddie gets you in your dreams,” I say, defending my choice.

  “Jason has that mask, though. And he won’t die.”

  He opens a free-standing wicker cabinet opposite the couch. There’s a big box television inside with a VCR on top. I’m amused at how the back of the TV sticks out so far that the VCR can balance on it. Below in some drawers are organized VHS tapes in plastic casings. I choose Dirty Dancing, and laugh when the machine has to rewind the tape. He pops popcorn in the microwave and we snuggle under a checkered blanket on the Santa Fe colored couch and watch Baby fall in love with Johnny.

  He never makes a move to touch me. When I realize he’s not going to, I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin, taking in his scent. He puts his arm around me, instinctively knowing what I need. There’s comfort in that.

  I tense up when Baby asks Johnny how many lovers he’s had, and then he tenses up when Johnny answers her –all about the women and how they smell good, how they make him feel good. But they were all using him. And I get it. That was Kolton’s past. The future he wants is more like the picture above his parents’ bed. I smile and he plays with my hair, running his long fingers through it over and over until I’m in a trance. In the end when Johnny holds her up above his head, Kolton says, “I can do that move.”

  “No way,” I say, smacking his arm.

  “Want me to prove it?” I yawn and stretch my arm up above my head.

  “Yeah, I think I do.” So he stands up, still shirtless, and walks over to the kitchen area, giving me a long way to run into his arms. I stand here, giggling.

  “I can’t,” I protest.

  “Nope. Nope. You challenged me. Come on,” he says, motioning with his hands. I decide to trust him. I run, put my hands out in front of me and jump into his arms. He lifts me up, and I stiffen my arms and legs to make a bowed line, like Baby did.

  My shirt came up. I can feel nothing but air between my breasts and his eyes. He falls backward, cushioning me from hitting the floor, and I’m laughing uncontrollably.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, but especially when you laugh.”

  “Oh my God, Kolton! Did you just see?” I ask, pulling my shirt down as I sit up. He nods, and sits up, too.

  “Perfect,” he says, “But I’ve already had that one,” he says, pointing to my left breast, “in my mouth, so—” and then I feel really serious, all of the sudden. The look on his face changes and he swallows hard. He leans forward, wraps his hand around the back of my neck, and takes my chin, tilting it up with his thumb. There is forever between his mouth and mine.

  He licks his bottom lip and stares at my mouth, making it water in anticipation. He bites his lip, and I realize he’s not going to kiss me. I have the controls.

  I lean forward and he kisses me then, his mouth soft and hard at the same time. He takes one lip at a time, then circles his tongue around mine until I’m dizzy and aching for him. It’s so slow; it’s a wooing kiss, full of promise. It’s an invitation—one meant to make me want more, to show me the future.

  And I accept.

  When he pulls away, his eyes are hooded. He stands up and reaches his hand down to me. When I’m standing, he entwines his fingers with mine and we walk down the hallway to his parent’s room. “This is where I sleep when I come here,” he says once we get to the footboard. “Mia, the perfect night for me ends with you in this bed with me, but just to sleep. I want to wake up in the morning with you in my arms.”

  And so he goes to the father’s side and I go to the mother’s side. We both fold back the covers, maybe the way they used to. He undoes his belt and I close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe this is happening. He slides the button out of the jeans and moves his zipper down. I cross my hands, one over the other. He watches my expression as his pants fall before he climbs into the bed. He’s wearing black boxer briefs, filling them out a little too nicely.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he says and I look at him quizzically. “Actually sleep with a woman in a bed.” He smiles as I climb in next to him and lie down on the pillow. He moves to his side and I stiffen next to him. He runs the tips of his fingers up and down my arm, until I sink into him and he takes me in his embrace.

  “You smell just right,” I hear him say, as he’s softly kissing me on my forehead. I entangle my legs with his and say, “Thank you—for taking care of me, Kole.” He exhales long and hard, sounding relieved. He places little kisses on my lips, my cheeks, my neck, as I’m drifting off to sleep.

  It’s that dream, the one when I’m flying like an air swimmer, light and free. Kolton is with me this time. “You have the controls,” he says, as we fly up into the clouds.

  “I have the controls,” I repeat, feeling only calmness after I say it. Because I know how he feels, that we are in this together, and I can trust him.

  That is, until we fall.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Decisions, Decisions

  When I open my eyes it takes me a minute to realize where I am. I’m looking at the door to Kolton’s parents’ bathroom. And I’m alone. As I sit up, I see Kolton on the floor. He’s doing the cobra pose. I rub my eyes as he comes up and moves into sun salutations. Yoga, his body is the perfect machine for it.

  I just watch him. Now I know why his muscles are so, for lack of a better word, well-formed and
long. As I admire just that, watching the muscles in his arms and back as they constrict and lengthen, reality hits me cold and hard. My heart speeds up, and my breathing falters. We have to go back to real life today; back to the show, the story. Back to the pictures. And we’ll have to pretend. I don’t want to pretend.

  “Do you do yoga?” he asks as he slowly moves into a squat, extending his leg out behind him and lifting his arms, stretching upward and slightly back.

  “A little.”

  “I watched you sleep, but this time I got to hold you,” he says, moving his other leg back into cobra. It’s a swift serpentine motion.

  “This time?” I ask, but he doesn’t clarify. I know he’s watched me sleep before, at least once. “Have you checked online for—?”

  “Yes. They didn’t get a good picture of you. My hand was covering your face,” he informs me, standing tall, and then pulling his leg up to rest his foot on his thigh, in tree pose.

  “Thank God,” I breathe. Even his feet are nice-looking, I notice. As his hands come up, pressed together, he sways, but remains upright.

  “Mia,” he says, putting his foot down and flexing his chest muscles. “I just want to spend a nice quiet morning with you before we have to go back to all that.”

  “I have to throw the round,” I blurt. It was on the tip of my mind. “Joyce McKim said.”

  “No,” he says, sitting down on the bed beside me.

  “I’m sorry, Kolton.” I wouldn’t look at him. I watch as his hand turns into a fist around a handful of bedding. My eyes dart to his and he looks hurt, disheartened.

  “All of this—the show, the photographers—all of it is just in the way,” he says before stomping out of the bedroom. He’s so spoiled. He’s always gotten his way, until me.

  I clean up in the bathroom and brush my teeth with Kolton’s toothbrush. I feel naughty doing it. I brush my hair with a hairbrush I find in a drawer and put on some leggings I find in the closet, along with a really cute eighties-style top with ripped panels on the side. Without a bra, it’s too revealing. I take the top off, pulling on a tight tank top before putting it back on and giggle a little when I look in the mirror and the top falls down on one shoulder. I look like Flashdance.

  I follow the scent of coffee and find fresh fruit with oatmeal waiting for me in the kitchen. I don’t see Kolton anywhere. As I pour coffee, I enjoy feeling the warmth of the sun coming through the window and hitting my bottom half as I pour in the creamer. If I pay attention, I can hear a grunting sound.

  As I turn around I see Kolton doing pull-ups out on the porch. He’s gripping a black metal bar that goes across two beams while pulling his chin up to it over and over. All the while, he’s watching me through the glass.

  I’m a little caught off guard by his expression; he looks pissed off. I can’t even sip the coffee in my hand. I feel my breath falter and my heartbeat speed up as I watch the muscles in his arms, his chest. And below, too. Everything is tense. I’ve never seen a man as beautiful as him, not in real life, and he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me right here and now.

  I count and chip off my dark nail polish. On forty-two he keeps his chin there for a few seconds, swings his lower half once, and hops down. The door opens and he walks in, covered in sweat. “You’re not wearing anything under those black things, are you?” he asks, moving right up to me—so close I can smell the salty sweat on his skin.

  I shake my head ‘no.’ “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “No!” he says forcefully as he takes my coffee cup and sets it on the counter before pinning me in place with his arms on either side of me. I can feel the heat coming off his skin, but he doesn’t touch me. “I dream about you,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Every night.”

  “I—”

  “And here you are, wearing see-through shit right in front of me. Showing me what I can’t have.”

  “I didn’t know they were—”

  “You can’t dress like that. Not in front of anyone but me.”

  “Stop it!” I say. I’m completely shaken. He’s scary intense right now. “I just grabbed this out of the closet. My clothes are gross and sweaty.”

  “Tell me.” His eyes close like he’s in pain.

  “What, Kolton? Tell you what?”

  “That when we leave here and we can’t be together anymore, you’ll trust me. You won’t forget I’ve been telling the truth.”

  “I won’t forget that, Kole. Not ever.” I move my hand up to the empty spot over his heart. There, I can still see some of the scars from the accident so many years ago. He’s shared so much with me, done so much for me, given up so much for me. So I open my mouth and say, “I belong here,” as I touch his skin, lean forward and kiss him there, just over his heart. His knees bend a little and moans deep in his throat.

  “No matter what happens next, promise you won’t leave me,” he whispers into my ear, but still, he doesn’t touch me.

  “What’s going to happen?” I ask, knowing that I might have to leave his team. But I won’t leave him, not now anyway.

  “In public we will have to be completely separate. We’ll need to draw attention away from you.”

  “It’s going to be the other way around. You’re going to forget about me,” I say.

  “You’re not ready yet, Mia. If you think that, I haven’t earned your trust.” He takes a step back and then another, and splays his palms on his thighs, just like he’d done in the car. He’s fully aroused inside his sweat pants, which both surprises me and makes me ache for him deep inside. “I’m going to take a cold shower.”

  When he walks away, I finally take a breath. I wonder if he takes cold showers often, since he doesn’t sleep with those beautiful women anymore. I feel guilty, but I didn’t ask him to do any of this for me. He’s used to women—lots of them. How could I ever compete with all that? My coffee on the counter is warm—not hot, but I drink it anyway. I’ve had enough hot this morning to last months.

  * * *

  I wait for Kolton on the front porch swing. Earlier, while he was in the shower, I opened the back doors of the helicopter and got my bag out. I’ve packed my clothes and am staring out at the hill with all the cacti and desert bushes. I hear his steps coming toward me, and he sits down next to me, much calmer now.

  “You need to bring the phone I gave you everywhere. Promise me.”

  “Why?” He glares at me, so I concede. “I promise.” I’m struck by the green in his eyes, the red fleck embedded into them like rust. He picks up my legs and drapes them over his thighs as he moves closer.

  My eyes close as he takes charge, wrapping his fingers around the back of my neck and tilting my chin up with his thumbs. “Look at me,” he says. I open my eyes just long enough to see his pained expression before he eases some of the ache with his lips on mine, soft and expressive, like a song.

  His tongue coaxes me to respond, and I do. His hand moves from behind my knee up to my hips as he licks and sucks his way to just below my ear before taking my lips again. I pull his tongue into my mouth, sucking on it. The way he moves inside my mouth makes me crazy for him. I want him. I know I can’t resist.

  He takes my upper arms and holds me in place as he kisses me one more time, softly. Then he pulls away. I move toward him and he shakes his head ‘no.’ I realize then, that was our goodbye kiss.

  “What happens now?” I ask, my voice shaky.

  “Now I try and live without you,” he says. I’m spinning around that statement as he takes my hand, walks me toward his rock star ride, opens the back door to the helicopter and puts my bag inside. We fly away, and all the way home, he never offers to let me take the controls again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Secrets

  The crowd erupts, just as they’re expected to and I walk out on stage after Jessie does. She looks great, her hair straightened and make-up flawless. We were told yesterday during practice that they’ve canceled the next round. Each coach can only take their best five fr
om this performance to the live rounds at the end of August. The decision to cut the taped-show schedule down came straight from the top –the network.

  Now I’ve had to contemplate if I should throw the round. If I do, I might get off Kolton’s team, or off the show altogether. I might even get out of Kolton’s life. Other than shooting the voice coach scene, he’s been silent with me since we landed at the heliport on top of the Wilshire Thayer. He grabbed my hand in the elevator. When the door opened to his apartment, he held me for a second and then let me go. When I turned around, he wasn’t looking at me as the elevator doors shut between us.

  I’m haunted by his words, “You’re not ready yet, Mia. If you think that, I haven’t earned your trust.”

  I mean, only a fool would put all their trust into a man who jumps from woman to woman. Why should I believe he’s changed this much, just for me?

  I still haven’t listened to the messages from the night I went missing. I haven’t turned on the phone he gave me, either. I know it’s a mistake, but I can’t. I’m not ready to hear his panic.

  I have, however, been reading about him online for the past week. He agreed to an interview with GOS~P—probably to take some attention off the photos with me. There was some speculation throughout the celebrity gossip circle that he had a secret lover. Someone with dark hair. Someone special.

  This interview was a big deal and highly anticipated. He said that he’s had a change of heart about his life which was why he hasn’t been out as much. There’s no one special, but he’s trying to purify his body to be worthy of the good things he wants in his future. When I’d read that, my jaw dropped. Could he really mean it?

  He talked rather candidly about something called “seminal retention.”

  “I’ve been into yoga for years. Just recently I learned that men lose their power, their concentration, their energy, through sex. It’s a long standing tradition in many cultures, and even in today’s culture, to withdraw from sexual experience for a time, to truly find yourself or prepare for life changes.