Love of a Rockstar

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Love of a Rockstar Page 10

by Nicole Simone


  “What do you think about me moving to Paris?”

  I heard the sound of ice clink in a glass. Every day at two o’clock my father had an iced cold Coca Cola. It was the only junk food allowed in my parents’ house.

  “I think it’s a nice city but we sure would miss you guys.”

  My parents and I haven’t always been close. We have been through our fair share of rough patches but at the end of the day, I knew they cared deeply for Nil and me.

  Tears clogged my throat. “We would miss you too.”

  “I like Finn—he’s a good guy—but I think he lost some points with your mother.”

  I overheard my mom confirm my dad’s statement, and I smiled. “Yeah, well, he probably has more points than Luke does.”

  “We don’t dislike Luke. Don’t put words into our mouths,” my father said.

  “Really?”

  My dad has never expressed an opinion either way. He was the neutral party between my mother and me. Nonetheless, in a marriage you usually side with your partner. So I figured whatever my mom felt toward Luke so did my dad.

  “He gave us Nil, didn’t he?” My dad chuckled. “She sure is a firecracker that one.”

  “She is. But dad?” I paused. “Luke has changed. He isn’t the same man he was at twenty-two. I want you to know that.”

  For some reason it was important to me that my dad realized Luke wasn’t the same person anymore. I wanted him to see Luke in a new light like I was.

  “That’s good to hear but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Whatever you decide, your mother and I will support you.

  “Thank you.” I whispered, touched.

  After we said our goodbyes, I hung up the phone and glanced over at Nil. She held up a picture from her coloring book for me to see.

  “It’s a princess mommy.”

  “I can see that.” Making my way over to the freezer, I pulled out the cake layers. “Do you want to take Ken out of timeout while I do this for a bit?” I asked. This wedding cake was due tomorrow and I still had hours of work on it.

  “No.” She set the book down on the table. “Can we go to the museum?”

  A strong urge to bang my head against the table arose. Sometimes I wished I could clone myself so I could be in five different places at once.

  “I have to finish this first. Can you play with your Barbies a little bit longer? Then we can go do whatever you want,” I bargained.

  She crossed her arms in front of her. “You promised.”

  My words from a couple days ago came back to haunt me. Nil wanted to visit the pretend grocery store at the children’s museum, but with a handful of work on my plate, I promised we would visit on Thursday, half hoping she would forget. Somehow, the week slipped past me and Thursday was upon us. Never the one to back out of a promise, I rewrapped the cake layers.

  “Alright, grab your jacket,” I said. “And don’t forget your hat.”

  “Yay!” she screamed in delight, running down the hallway.

  It would take me all night to do the wedding cake, but exhaustion wasn’t anything new to me. My phone chirped and I glanced down to see a text from Luke. After what happened on the front porch, I figured it would be longer before I heard from him again. Quickly scanning the message, my heart fluttered with joy. He wanted to meet Nil and me for lunch. Shooting a quick response back, I went to tell Nil our change of plans. She was sitting in the middle of a pile of jackets when I walked into her room.

  “I told you to grab a jacket, not five,” I said.

  A look of pure anguish crossed her face. “I can’t decide. I want pink but not that kind of pink.” She pointed to a salmon colored jacket.

  Her problem could have had been easily remedied if she didn’t have so many clothes. My eyes scanned the pile until they landed on my personal favorite of hers.

  I rubbed the denim material between my fingers. “How about this one? You always look so cute in it.”

  Nil tilted her head to the side. “That’s not pink.”

  “No, you’re right, it’s not, but I think your dad would really love to see you in it.”

  At the mention of her father, she lit up like a Christmas tree. “Is he coming?”

  “Yup, he’s going to meet us for lunch, then we’ll go the museum.”

  “Really?” She jumped up in excitement. “OK, I’ll wear that one.”

  Hiding a smile, I guided her arms into the sleeves. Who knew one day I could use Luke as a bribe?

  John’s Pizzeria was on First Avenue with limited parking. A few under the breath curse words later, I found a spot five blocks away. The wind whipped at our clothes as we made our way to the front of the restaurant. Nil’s little legs set a maddening pace. I boosted her onto my hip and hurried down the sidewalk. Luke was under the giant pizza sign dressed in a white button shirt, leather jacket, and jeans that hugged his perfect buttocks. When he caught sight of us, a heartbreaking smile crossed his lips and my breath hitched.

  “Hey, pretty ladies,” he said as he closed the distance between us. “How is everybody doing today?”

  Luke may be a rock star, but he was also the biggest cheese ball I knew. Nil climbed down my body as if I were a ladder, her feet resting safely on the ground. The approval she sought from her father gleamed in her eyes. “Do you like my jacket?”

  He kneeled down in front of her. “It’s the prettiest jacket in all the land. It makes you look like a princess.” Tucking a wayward piece of hair behind Nil’s ear, they shared a smile.

  A surge of love toward Luke punched me in the stomach and left me dizzy. This wasn’t good. I couldn’t leave for Europe with these kinds of feelings. Camille was right. I had to sleep with Luke and purge him from my system.

  FOUR HOURS LATER, we arrived back at the house with an exhausted four year old. After we ate lunch, we visited the museum where Nil explored every nook and cranny. “Mommy, can you help me?”

  She was sitting in the entryway with her leg in the air, tugging at the boot on her foot. Before I could help, Luke bent down and slipped it off. Nil wiggled her sock covered toes in visible relief. She hated shoes and would spend most of her days barefoot if she could.

  Luke grinned “Better?”

  A yawn slipped past her lips. Naps were a rare occurrence, but every once in awhile they were needed. Like today.

  I held my hand out to Nil, “Why don’t you shut your eyes for an hour sweetie? You look tired.”

  It would be a lie if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive. I wanted—no, I needed—Luke naked in my bed. Sex with him was long overdue and an hour of uninterrupted alone time would be enough to get exactly that. Anticipation hummed in my veins. My daughter let me lead her into her bedroom where I tucked her in. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Taking a moment to gather myself, I quietly slipped into the bathroom. The reflection of a guilty woman stared back at me from the mirror. Poor Finn. Nobody deserved to get cheated on, but hopefully once Luke was out of my system, my heart would open for Finn. .With my fingers, I tousled my hair and rubbed a dab of lipstick on. It was stupid to be nervous, but Luke could have had a whole array of new sex moves, while I, on the other hand, had zilch. Hopefully, what I did in the past and present held up.

  “Go get him, Mar,” I said to myself in the mirror. I plastered a shaky smile on my face and waltzed out into the living room where Luke was waiting for me.

  His lips turned up at the corners. “You look nice”

  “Thanks.” I smoothed my hands over my shirt. “It’s the best I can do. Most days, I end up with mysterious stains on my clothes.”

  “You could be covered in spaghetti sauce and you’d still look beautiful.”

  Luke always knew exactly what to say to turn me into a giggling schoolgirl. Crossing the room, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. I looked up at him and saw pure unadulterated lust. His hand cupped the back of my neck, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

  “I k
now you’re with somebody else but I can’t stand it any longer, I need to kiss you,” he said.

  His mouth was firm but gentle and as his tongue moved against my lower lip, I parted for him. With the first stroke, the burning heat of desire was felt between my legs.

  Luke worked his fingers into my hair and tilted my head back. He placed small kisses down along my neck to the hollow of my throat. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his mouth on my skin.

  “You smell like cinnamon.” He gently nipped my shoulder. “And you taste like vanilla. You are a God damn walking dessert.”

  A small laugh turned into a moan as his thumb brushed my nipple. Heat pooled in my lower stomach. I tugged at his shirt, desperate to get it off him. There were too many clothes separating us.

  Luke stilled my hand. “No, wait.”

  I glanced up at him. Last I remembered, you didn’t wear clothes during sex. “No?”

  My head grew dizzy with the smell of pure male as his lips grazed my ear. “I want to take things slow.” He unbuttoned my jeans and dragged down the zipper. When he caught sight of the bright pink hearts on my thong, a slow grin spread across his face. “There’s nothing sexier than a woman in pink.”

  Capturing my mouth with his, he backed me up against the wall. Every nerve ending in my body screamed for release. I titled my hips into his hardness, eliciting a groan from both our lips.

  “Luke, please,” I begged. “I need you inside me.”

  “Shh, baby.”

  He placed his palm over my mouth and slipped his other hand inside my underwear. His thumb dragged over my sex, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. Waves of pleasure crashed through me. With each stroke, I felt myself inch closer to the edge.

  “That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured huskily.

  Higher and higher I rode until I felt my inner wall muscles constrict. I silently screamed against Luke’s palm as the ceiling above exploded into a million tiny stars. Removing his hand from my mouth, I let out a breath, exhausted. Luke kissed my forehead, picked up my limp body and moved me to the couch. Screw yoga, an orgasm was the path to complete relaxation.

  “And I thought taking things slow meant dry humping on the couch,” I said.

  He laughed as he tucked a blanket around my feet. “We aren’t in high school anymore.”

  Thank god for that. I still had nightmares about those long hallways lined with metal lockers. Although Luke was already out of high school when we met, our standard smoking spot was behind the bleachers on the football field. Every day when the bell rang, I would run to meet him, breathless with anticipation. In a student body of eight hundred students, drama was the norm and Luke was my reprieve from it all.

  I stifled a yawn. “You knocked me out.”

  Giving me a bashful smile, he lifted himself off the couch, “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Just because I am tired doesn’t mean I am not up for more.”

  “You’re with Finn and until you’re not with him anymore, we can’t go any further.”

  Since when did Luke have a moral compass? I threw the blanket off my body and angrily stalked toward the bathroom to freshen up.

  Luke caught my wrist. “I am not trying to make you feel bad about what we did M, but I want to be the only guy you’re fucking. Not just some guy on the side.”

  When I thought about having sex with Luke, I didn’t once consider his feelings on the matter. I figured he was a guy. It didn’t matter if I was single or not, sex was sex. However, I forgot one important factor. We cared for each other. So much for getting Luke out of my system.

  “I understand,” I said.

  He nodded. “Good. Do you have plans for the next couple of hours?”

  “I have to finish working on a wedding cake while Nil is asleep.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said.

  “Really?” Relief flooded my body. It was nice to think I could manage on my own, but in reality, a three-tiered cake with white fondant and sugar roses needed the hands of at least two people, not one. “That would be ever so helpful.”

  “On one condition.”

  I rolled my eyes. There was always a catch. “What?”

  “If you go to my concert tonight in that little red dress you wore on our first date.”

  Little was stretching it. The dress barely covered my ass, which sounded painfully cold in the middle of November.

  Luke sensed my hesitation. “You still have it lying around?”

  I nodded. It was a keepsake, and he knew I was sentimental. “Hours upon hours of hot sugar, your worst nightmare,” he said. “If I did the flowers, I would have them done in fifteen minutes flat.”

  Back when I was in pastry school, I used to come home and complain about how temperamental hot sugar was. Luke loved a challenge so he asked me to teach him how to do it. Much to my chagrin, he excelled at making flowers out of sugar.

  “Fine, you win,” I said. “But I am wearing pantyhose and an overcoat.”

  “Make it hosiery with a garter belt and we have a deal.”

  Luke was my baby girl’s father, through and through. They both had negotiating skills that were on par with the Police Jumper Squad.

  I sighed in defeat. “Deal, but I am wearing Spanx.”

  “I have no idea what that is,” Luke laughed, “but as long as you’re wearing the red dress, I don’t care.” He extended his hand toward me. “Come on, let’s go make a wedding cake.”

  I pulled the cake from the fridge and set it on the counter for the second time that day.

  “What kind of frosting did you use for the crumb coat?” Luke asked as he stuck his head inside the fridge.

  How did he remember the terminology I taught him seven years ago when it was a struggle for me to remember what I had for breakfast? “It’s a vanilla buttercream,” I responded. “There’s none left though. I have to make a new batch.”

  “OK, start on that, and I’ll begin the sugar mixture for the flowers,”

  Gathering the ingredients for our separate tasks, we settled into a peaceful rhythm. Fluffy white clouds of powdered sugar arose from the mixer and dusted my face. I scraped in the pods from a vanilla bean while also adding the one-tablespoon of cream. It didn’t take long for it to form a fragrant frosting. I deeply inhaled the scent I had come to associate with happiness.

  “Are you huffing it or making it?” Luke wisecracked.

  “Very funny.” I scraped down the sides of the bowl. “How’s the sugar mixture coming along?”

  “Good, it’s almost at the right temperature.”

  “250 degrees,” I said. “Double check, because you don’t want to burn—”

  Luke shot me an annoyed look over his shoulder, which caused the words I was about to say to die in my throat. “I know what I am doing,” he said pointedly.

  “You are the master of the Sugar Kingdom after all,” I joked to defuse the tension.

  His lips turned up at the corners. “Maybe I should pull the sugar into a crown instead.”

  Laughing, I grabbed an offset spatula from the drawer. Luke and I never stayed mad at each other for long. We always knew what to do or say to chase away the anger. It was one of the strong points in our relationship. Trust was a different story, though. Luke obviously wanted me to dump Finn for him which was a huge risk. I wanted to believe Luke wouldn’t run off at the first sign of upheaval, but his track record said otherwise.

  “Whatcha thinking about?”

  His voice tore me away from my unsettling thoughts. “Nothing,” I said lightly. “I’m going to go check on Nil.”

  Ignoring his quizzical stare, I padded out of the kitchen. The nightlight cast a soft glow over the pink bedroom, a color Nil fought tooth and nail for. Framed pictures of famous princesses hung next to her white canopy bed. It was truly a little girl’s dream retreat. I tiptoed over to the edge of the mattress. Piles of pillows were strewn haphazardly around her with one foot sticking out of the covers. Although her nap was edgin
g toward thirty minutes, I left her alone to dream about fairies. Come nighttime, I knew I would regret the decision, but she looked too serene to disturb.

  When I came back into the kitchen, Luke was in the process of dumping the sugar onto the slip mat. A heat lamp was set over the mixture to make sure it didn’t harden. Pulling sugar flowers was a delicate process, which was the reason I rarely did them. My hands weren’t steady enough.

  “She still asleep?” Luke asked.

  I resumed my station at the counter and plopped a spatula-sized dollop of frosting onto the cake. “Yup.” I evenly coated the sides. “Once she’s out, she’s out.”

  “That’s how I was as a child. My mom dumped a glass of water on my head one morning when I refused to get out of bed.” A faint smile danced on his lips. “You know what I did?”

  I shook my head.

  “I said thanks for the shower and went back to sleep,” Luke answered, laughing at the memory.

  “How old were you?”

  He pulled and folded the sugar onto itself. “It was before my mom’s addiction became bad, so thirteen or so.”

  Although I knew of the battle his mother fought and lost, he’d never revealed anything else about her.

  “Was she a good mom?” I wondered out loud. “I mean, before …”

  “The best,” Luke said without hesitation. “On Sunday mornings, she would take me to this hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant down the street from where we lived. It was a family-owned business with the best huevos rancheros you could get in town. The owner eventually showed me how to make them, which sparked my love for cooking,” With a pair of scissors, he clipped off a piece of the pulled sugar. “She was also kind, had a wicked sense of humor, and was fiercely loyal to the ones she loved. My dad didn’t deserve her.” His hands stopped moving and his gaze flickered over to me. “Like father like son.”

  THE FINISHED WEDDING cake, in its three-tiered glory, sat on the kitchen table. The roses Luke meticulously created dotted the vanilla buttercream. It was a simple yet elegant design I was proud to have created with Luke.

  He threw his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into him. “We’re quite the team.”

 

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