The late night conversations with Kent have me questioning certain possibilities. They’ve got me wondering if maybe there’s a chance for us. Kent’s never been a typical guy. He’s always been so much more. I finish up an image and glance over at Jamie.
“Jamie, guys in bands, they aren’t usually the family type. You know, the settling down kind, are they?” I ask.
“Yeah, guys in bands don’t like to be tied down.” She yawns, stretching her arms over her head.
“They don’t.” I agree, smiling. “They like a woman who’s not going to weigh them down with responsibility.” Marriage and family is probably the furthest thing from Kent’s mind. I’ve been nothing but stressed about what I can’t give him and meanwhile, it’s all stuff he may not even want. Sure, we talked about those kinds of things when we were young, but things change. Believe me, I know.
“They’re also assholes who cheat and sleep around, like, left and right,” Jamie says, and rests her head down on her arms for a five-minute power nap.
I ignore Jamie’s last remark. I’m not going to even let myself go to another dark place, because right now I actually feel positive. This could actually work. I can be that girl who’s at his side, supporting him. Never holding him back, pressuring him for things like commitment and family.
There’s a boost in my energy level, a kick greater than any cup of coffee could give. Grinning at the computer screen, the mouse rolls under my hand and my feet twist excitedly under the desk. It turns out I might just be the perfect girl for Kent after all.
Kent
Friday night, Robin arrives early to my apartment to spend the entire weekend.
I’ve straightened up the best I can. Basically shoving the clothes piled up on the couch into a closet and finally washing the dirty dishes that filled my sink. There is a woman who comes once a week to clean, but in between her visits the mess just piles up. I’m a musician, an artist; I spend my free time creating, not cleaning. This week my excuse is that most of my free time was spent on the phone.
She drops her overnight bag on the floor and wraps her arms around my neck for an intense kiss hello. “I thought about kissing you the whole drive over,” she says. Sexy blue eyes pop against her dark hair and her lips are stained a sultry shade of red. She hands me her jacket and I take a minute to admire what was hidden underneath. Dark jeans hug her hips and the t-shirt with our band’s name that I purposely gave her one size too small is clinging to her ample chest. She’s made it even that much hotter by taken a pair of scissors and cutting a slit down from the collar, exposing a hint of cleavage.
“How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on singing tonight when you look like this? You can’t wear that. Every guy in the place will be hitting on you and I’ll be up on stage unable to do a damn thing about it,” I say, licking my frowning lips. My eyes lock in on her chest. I’ve already been stressing out about the distraction of having her in the crowd tonight. If I’m on stage catching glimpses of her in this, I won’t be able to hit a single note on key.
“What are you talking about? The fact that you sent me this size small shirt that I had to stuff myself into, that will probably bust open the second I eat a French fry?” She tilts her head. “I’m not a small. I know you know that. Can you give me a different shirt, please?”
Robin is very modest. Giving her that small shirt . . . I did know better. “I think all I have left are larges.”
“That’ll be fine. Anything is better than this.”
The bottom of the over-packed closet is of course where the extra shirts are right now and when I open the door, heaps of wrinkled clothes come tumbling out. I look back at her and she shakes her head, laughing.
“I knew this place looked too clean. I was wondering how there wasn’t any piles of clothes all over the place.”
My room growing up was always a disaster. Robin spent a lot of time in that room. She remembers all too well my sloppy bad habits.
I toss the new semi-wrinkled shirt to her to catch. She lifts the small tight shirt over her head, swapping it for the new larger one. I grin, enjoying the view, watching her make the quick change in front of me. The new shirt is big on her but she knots it up at the waist for a better fit. I’m tempted to pull her into my bedroom and act out the scenarios we created from our nightly calls this week. Well, two nights; the other nights were just talking. We spent hours talking about her job, me, and the band. She talked about her dad and his new wife. I told her about some of the Daniels’ family craziness she’s missed. We had so much catching up to do, a lot of time to make up for.
Tonight before anything else, I want to take her out and spend some time with her. The band doesn’t go on until nine, which allows us plenty of time to have dinner and a few drinks beforehand. She hasn’t officially met some of the guys in the band yet. They’ve all been hearing me talk about her for God knows how long, it’s time to show off my beautiful Robin and let everyone know she’s mine.
Twisted is only a five-minute drive from my place. I park out back and lead her in through the side entrance. “VIP all the way,” I joke, throwing my arm around her shoulders, tucking her into me.
Aidan’s leaned against the bar drinking a beer when we walk in. I bring Robin right over to introduce her. Aidan has a scar going down his face; it’s pretty rough and at first glimpse it can take you aback. When I introduce Robin to him, she smiles and shakes his hand as if she doesn’t even see it.
“He does all my ink. I wouldn’t go to anyone else, he’s the best.”
“Oh, yes he is.” His girlfriend, Jordyn, comes up from behind and wraps her arms around Aidan’s waist. “He is the best at everything. It’s why I love him so much.” She plants a kiss on the damaged side of his face.
Aidan grins and raises his eyebrows. “You have to excuse her. She likes to lay it on pretty thick.”
“Jordyn, this is Robin. Robin, this Jordyn. She’s opening the new bar with Josh that I was telling you about.”
“Oh, that’s right. Congratulations. When does it open?” Robin asks.
“We’re hoping to have it open by the end of next month. It’s just been tough this week with Josh away on his honeymoon. When he gets back I feel bad I’m going to be slamming him with all of these last minute details.”
“Josh got married?” Robin asks, flabbergasted. “Josh Brewster?”
“Yes, two weeks ago. It was beautiful, a very small ceremony in his parent’s backyard.” Jordyn pulls out her phone to show Robin a picture.
Robin smiles politely but I see the look in her eyes when she recognizes Josh’s bride. I probably should have told her about that match up. “Okay, we’re gonna go have a bite before the show starts. See you guys later.” I usher Robin away quickly and lead her to a table in the back.
“Holy crap, was that Becca? Did Josh Brewster really marry Patrick’s ex-girlfriend Becca?” Robin’s mouth hangs wide open in disbelief. “I, I . . . I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Yes, it’s a bit of a strange pairing,” I agree, laughing. “But when you see him, you won’t even recognize him anymore. He looks different, he acts different. Becca’s still pretty much the same, though, except I think her hair is pink now.”
“Wow, that is just, wow, crazy.” Robin shoulders shudder up. “So, what’s the deal? Everyone around here fell in love and got married?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah, over the last year or so, it seems every time I turn around someone is getting engaged and married.” I nod my head towards Sabrina, one of the regular waitresses, signaling her to come over. I look back over at Robin. “I’ve been looking at jobs in Cherry Wood. There isn’t much, but one or two might be something I could do.”
Sabrina comes over to take our food and drink orders and I give quick introductions. Like a normal waitress, Sabrina writes everything down.
Robin looks over at me curiously. “Why are you looking for jobs in Cherry Wood?”
“Because I pla
n on moving down there, I told you I want to be with you and be there for you. And I’ve been looking for jobs and a place to live for the last couple of weeks now.”
“Kent, I don’t want you to move to Cherry Wood. Your life is here. Your family is here, your band gets to play here regularly and now you were offered gigs at the new bar opening up. Why on earth would you relocate to some dead-end town?” she asks, appalled at the notion.
“Robin, I’m serious about being there for you. I’m serious about us. As far as the band and gigs, I don’t even know how the new bar is going to do. They may not want me to play there regularly and I could always make the drive here on weekends to do a gig now and then if I wanted.”
“Kent, you should be looking for better things, not settling for shit just so you can hold my hand in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. I told you I was okay. I don’t want you throwing your life away for me.”
I rest my elbows on the table and slant forward. “So then, what is the plan? We’re together but what? We just keep traveling back and forth all the time. I’m not allowed to move closer to you?”
“No, you’re not allowed to move by me,” Robin says quietly. She takes a few seconds swishing her mouth side to side before continuing on. “But maybe in a few months after we’ve given this some more time, I can move back here.”
“You would move back here? What about your dad? What about your doctors?”
“My dad will be fine, he’s married now. It wouldn’t be like I was leaving him alone. And doctors are everywhere, Kent. I can find a new doctor, have my records transferred. I grew up around here. I miss this area. I miss your family and pizza nights and listening to you sing me silly songs while strumming on your guitar. I want to see you follow your dreams. I want to help you achieve them. Your dream is music, right? It’s your passion?”
“My passion is you.” I stand up, pushing back my seat and lean across the table to kiss her. She laughs and playfully swats me away.
“Does this mean you’ll stop looking for jobs in Cherry Wood?” she asks.
“Robin, I love you. Is this what you really want?” Warmth spreads through my body at the possibility of having her back here. Back home, the place where we grew up, by my side where she belongs.
She presses her lips together and swallows. “Being with you is what I’ve always wanted.”
I tap my finger on the table a few times and then lift it up, pointing it at her. “When I go on tonight, I’m gonna be singing my fucking heart out just for you. Every note I sing tonight is gonna be sung staring down looking at you.”
She gets shy for a second, looking down. A hint of pink tints her cheeks. “I’ll be staring back,” she says, lifting her head, meeting me eyes. Her stare sparks a fuse that trails straight to my heart and ignites.
On stage I deliver what I promise. I sing from my heart directly to her. She stays hidden in the back, because that’s Robin, never up front in the spotlight where she belongs. It doesn’t matter though, I see her. She’s all I see.
I sing. I play. I rock. I’m on fire like never before. All because of her.
When we’re done with both sets, I ask the guys if I can bail. Normally I stay, pack up and hang for a while, but not tonight. I quickly deal with Heidi and Jeanine, the two girls who always offer to show their appreciation after a show—an offer I’ve never taken either of them up on—and make my way over to Robin.
She clings onto my arm as we leave out the side door. “Kent, I’m in awe. You’re more amazing than ever. I don’t think I can get ever get over how gifted you are.”
“Tonight it was easy, with my inspiration there to watch me.” I walk her over to the passenger side and press her up against the car, giving her a long slow kiss. Her hands tangle up in my hair, pulling my mouth down harder onto hers. No one kisses as well as Robin does. No one’s even come close. When we finally pry ourselves apart, I’m anxious knowing that this is just the start of what’s to come tonight.
Back at my place, I once again get in the shower first. I don’t shave, leaving a nice shadow of scruff, then exit the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Robin squeezes past me carrying her bag into the bathroom. Our lips skim each other softly for a quick kiss, then before she shuts the door she yanks off my towel, leaving me standing there completely naked, grinning at the back of the door.
Picking the towel off the floor, I finish drying off and climb into my bed to wait for her. The water stops running and I hear her clanging around in the bathroom.
“Hey, Kent?” she yells through the door. “Who were those girls after the show? Were they like, groupies?”
Geez, I wish she hadn’t seen them. “They’re just two band enthusiasts who hang out at all the shows. Nothing to worry about, and before you even ask, no, I’ve never been with either one.”
“So, you don’t have a thing for groupies?” she asks; the door opens a crack, just the top of her head and two blue eyes peering over at me.
“No, I do not.”
“Too bad,” she says, and swings the door open. “’Cause I am a total Kent Daniels groupie.”
I gulp hard. She saunters seductively into my room wearing a black satin baby doll trimmed with red lace. Lingerie? Ho-ly shit. This is one major unexpected delight. Parts of my body react instantly; one part in particular responds, practically waving her on over.
“You’re ready to have sex?” The nights on the phone were hot, but I still wasn’t sure what to expect when we were actually together.
She nods her head yes and grins.
“And you’re sure you’re ready? We’re not moving too fast?” If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.
“I’m sure.”
I hop up from the bed, race over and lift her up in my arms. In one quick motion I toss her onto the bed, climbing on top of her. I stay positioned above her, hoisted up using my arms and knees.
“Remember, my body is still getting used to all this. Just be patient if it doesn’t react the same way as it used to.”
I’m not sure what she means by that or what exactly she’s afraid of. Her body reacted just fine last time. More than fine.
I slip my finger under the thin strap of satin on her shoulder and slide it down until one perfect breast is exposed. She looks down at her chest while I slowly continue pulling to reveal the other side of perfection. Pink and taut. “I think your body is reacting well so far,” I say, bringing my lips down to taste her. My eager tongue connects with her nipple and she groans, whispering my name.
I want to take my time with her. And I will. The second time we do this tonight.
My hands slide up her thighs, pushing the satin up, until her hands grab my wrists and stop me. “Kent, turn the light out first.”
One small lamp is lit on my night table. The lighting in the room is dim, dusky, not bright whatsoever. “Are you getting shy on me? I want to be able to see you in this sexy thing you’ve got on.”
“Kent, turn off the light, please.” She holds the bottom of the black nightie firmly in place, her arms covering her bare chest. That panicked look I’ve seen on her before comes back. “Just shut it off,” she says impatiently.
I lean over to flick off the lamp and the room goes completely dark. She releases a relaxing breath. In the pitch dark her hands let go of the fabric she was franticly clinging onto. This time when my hands return to explore, she lets me. I lower down the lace thong hidden underneath and she guides my hand. Robin knows her spot. She was never big on wasting time waiting for me to try and find it. Her hand clasps over mine and she even helps to get the proper motion going.
The slick feel of her on my hand, I need to be inside her. I reach into the drawer by my bed to grab a condom, fumbling in the dark through the mess to find one. I finally locate one, tear the foil, and rush to get it on.
It’s barely rolled into place and she’s pulling me back down. Her legs fall open and I position myself accordingly. Her hands slide over my ribcage, enticingly inviting me in. The intens
ity of entering her causes me to groan loudly. I stay still for a few seconds and try to conger up an ugly thought in my head to keep me from going off instantly.
Her hips begin to move. Robin’s actions betray the excitement building inside of her. She tightly squeezes the muscles of my biceps, her nails digging into my skin, and releases sighs of pleasure as she begins to rock faster. Her tight grip on my arms release, and she lets go with one sweet airy sound.
Through my desperate pants I hiss the words with clenched teeth. “Oh, fuck, yessss, yessss, I’m coming.” And then I do.
I lie back next to her, both of us taking a moment, catching our breaths. This sex has certainly beat the sex of our teenage years. This was on a whole new level. Time-wise, though, I may still need some improvement. With Robin, it’s hard to hold back. Fortunately, we’ve got all weekend to work on it.
Reaching over I switch the lamp back on and sit up to take care of some business. “Are you still on the pill?” I ask, looking down at the questionable condom I just used. How long has it been sitting in that drawer? I’m not even sure. It could be from when I moved in to this place a couple of years ago. Robin is the first girl I’ve actually had back here and in my bed.
“Did the condom break?” she asks.
“No,” I say, but the truth is, I think it actually did. “Maybe,” I admit guiltily.
“Have you been tested?” She holds her breath.
“Yes, I have. I’m clean.”
“Oh. You’ve had sex with a lot of girls?”
“Not that many.” There haven’t been many, but a few times there were some questionable ones; hence, why I got tested.
“I’m not judging or anything. I know it comes with the rock star territory.”
“I’m not a rock star.” I laugh. “I’m a guy who plays in a band at a local bar.”
Panic (The Flaw Series) Page 6