The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood)

by Tarrah Anders

  “No. We’re not princesses. I took a look around the stage the other night, it looks pretty equipped. We don’t want big and flashy, we’re getting back down to our roots, so we’re good with simple.” I explain.

  Everyone nods around the table. Noah is the first to stand and then everyone else follows suit. Noah holds his hand out to me, and I firmly take it.

  “I think this will be pretty awesome. Lets commit to end of next month for the first show, yeah?” I say.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he nods.

  Since the other night with Leslie, I haven’t been able to get her off of my mind. And not just for the aspect that I want to be near her again. But also, for the fact that my father asked her to help me.

  What better way to be near her than that?

  I walk into the sheriff’s station just outside of town and see her sitting behind a large rack desk with her face close to the monitor of her computer. She looks up at the sound of the bell from the front door and pushes her chair back. She smiles at first, and then fixes her expression to stoic as she stands.

  “What can I do for you Mr. Mercy?” she asks professionally, with her left hand on her jutted hip.

  “Wow. No one calls me that, and it sounds terrifying coming from you.” I say leaning on the counter that separates the citizens of the county from the law.

  “This is my work, Caleb. You can’t just come prancing in here like you own the place.”

  “First of all, I do not prance. I am not a reindeer. And second, this station is on Mercy land, and if I do recall, you just called me ‘Mr. Mercy’, you know like the town.”

  “Semantics,” she rolls her eyes.

  “Listen, I actually came here to talk shop with you. You know about what my father asked of you, and technically also of me?” I say, my tone serious.

  “About the estate? Did you decide what you are going to do?” she asks with interest.

  “The guys and I are here for the next two years, at least. I want to make my father proud and own up to everything that’s he’s asked of me, left me, and this town. But I also know that Mercy’s Grind will have to tour the world again, so I’ve got an idea.”

  “Should I be sitting down for this?” she asks.

  “Nah, standing is alright. Just in case you faint, I’ll catch you.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

  “So, what’s this plan of yours?” she ignores my flirtation and asks.

  “I will take residence at the estate, keep the staff on board, however I also want to turn the house into a retreat. I want it to be a musical getaway, a foundation for kids who want to learn to play, but don’t have the money too.”

  “Okay, so will it house these kids?” she asks.

  “Do you know how much of that house goes un-used?” I ask.

  “It is kinda big,” she acknowledges.

  “I’m envisioning something kinda like in X-men.”

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two

  I spoke with a few lawyers and called my manager to discuss the opportunities that I could do with the estate.

  My hopes are to claim the estate as my main residence, but since we tour for half of the year having the estate and the grounds become a musical paradise for thriving artists.

  My manager thought the idea was great, however, he wasn’t a huge fan of the group taking more time off and tried to get me to change my mind. I leveraged the conversation with doing a small-town tour and writing a new album, something that we’ve slacked on for the past year. The conversation ended with a good note and ultimately, all parties were happy in the end.

  I met with Micah and Noah a few times to iron out a performance schedule that would be favorable with a small-town tour as well as allow us plenty of creative time to work on new stuff and for me to get the foundation started.

  Today, I am standing outside the Wilson Hotel on Broadway after Leslie and I met with some investors and some lawyers. We got lucky to schedule two meetings in one day, and I’m feeling like we have accomplished something. We turn and we look at one another contemplatively.

  “What do you say about staying in town, grabbing some dinner and drinks?” I ask her.

  She looks at the time on her phone and tilts her head curiously looking at me through her lashes.

  “What’s your motive?” she asks.

  “Motive? Why would I need a motive?” I ask her with a laugh.

  “Caleb, everyone has a motive.”

  I stuff my hands in my back pockets, lean back on the heels of my expensive shoes.

  “Leslie, let’s just treat it as two old friends having a meal, yeah?”

  “You know as well as I do, that we’ve never been just friends.”

  “Well, we are now, wouldn’t you say so? We’re not romantically involved.”

  “That’s a good point,” she nods.

  “I mean, unless…” I say.

  “Let’s see, there’s a good steakhouse around the corner, there’s a pizzeria down that way and I think some sushi somewhere over there too,” she says.

  “I’m up for whatever you want,” I say with a smile as she turns and begins walking in one of the directions that she referenced.

  We fall into a silent stride walking side by side until Leslie stops in front of the sushi place and points at it.

  “You eat sushi?” she asks.

  “Love it,” I reply, and she smiles.

  After settling into a booth, she looks at me and smiles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s weird, you know, hanging out with you all these years later. And now, you’re famous and I’m not fan-girling all over you.”

  “I think that we have a history, and so that makes you see me differently,” I reply.

  “True,” she nods.

  “So, how are you, really?” I ask her.

  “Good, good.”

  “Are you dating anyone?” I ask her.

  “No, you?” she asks.

  “No.” I reply looking straight into her eyes, in hopes to convey that I would like to date her, again.

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three

  We ate a lot of sushi and drank a lot of sake which started out as sake bombs, then went directly into taking the shots alone. It is well past dark when we stumble out along the street after the sushi restaurant closed. We laugh as we stand at the curb, clearly letting loose of inhibitions that were there previously as we’re a little more comfortable.

  “So, I don’t think either of us should be driving, and as an officer of the law, I’m pretty sure that I would get fired if that were to happen,” she covers her mouth and hiccups.

  I look up and down the street and remember that we were at the Wilson Hotel earlier, so we may have luck there. I recall that it looked like a nice place earlier in the day when we were there for the meeting.

  “Let’s head back to the hotel, I’ll pay for your room, and we can head back to town tomorrow,” I point in the direction that I think the hotel is.

  Leslie grabs my arm, turns to me, and points it in the opposite direction, “it’s that way,” she answers, then points at me. “None of that you paying for my room shit, I make a good living, I can pay for my own room.”

  I hold my hands up in surrender before we begin walking in the correct direction.

  The sliding doors of the hotel opens to a bustling lobby. We stand in line at registration, until it’s our turn.

  “Two rooms please?” I ask with a smile pulling out my wallet from my pocket.

  The hotel clerk types furiously on her keyboard, looks at the screen a few times, and then looks to me.

  “I’m sorry Mr. Mercy, but we only have one room left, would you like that one?” she says politely.

  “How many beds are in the room?” I ask.

  “It’s a king-sized bed, sir,” she answers as I look down to Leslie.

  “Can you check again, maybe it was a glitch?” Leslie asks hopeful.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, the convention that is in town has
reserved several of our rooms. The same could be said for the surrounding hotels. Would you like the last room?” she looks back and forth between us getting impatient as the line behind us gets longer.

  With hesitation in Leslie’s eyes, she nods. “Yes, we’ll take it.” I reply, pulling out my credit card and handing it to her.

  “Would you prefer the name under a pseudonym?” she asks.

  “Yes, please. Axel Rose.” I reply without thought.

  With a small smile on her face, Leslie elbows me. When we were kids, she had a Guns & Roses poster in her room, and I just hinted at that memory.

  With the room key in my hand and directions for where to go, Leslie and I hop into an elevator in search of our room. After getting off on the wrong floor and trying the key in the wrong door as evidenced by the angry gentleman in his boxers. We finally make our way to the correct floor and to the correct door about ten minutes later.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.” I reply.

  “I mean, if there’s a couch, you could sleep on that instead,” she quips.

  “I’m sure the couch and the floor would be the same level of hardness.”

  The room is your standard room. There is no couch, but a chair tucked in the corner. The bed is the largest feature in the room aside from the fifty-inch television mounted on the wall across from the bed.

  “From the looks of the lobby, the conference room, and the bar downstairs, I would have thought there rooms would be a little better than this. This is tiny.” Leslie notes looking into the bathroom.

  “It is what it is. Shall we head back downstairs and have a night cap?” I ask.

  “Why not just raid the mini fridge? You’re a fancy rock star, I’m sure you could afford the shit that will cost you fifteen dollars,” she smirks.

  “Fifty bucks says that they don’t even have a mini fridge,” I reply looking for the opening to the cabinet which usually holds the fridges.

  I open it and see what I wasn’t expecting.

  I spoke too soon.

  It’s filled to the rim of snacks, water and miniature bottles of over-priced hard alcohol.

  “Looks like you owe me fifty bucks,” she says leaning over my shoulder.

  “Looks like I do,” I stand up and pull my wallet out to pay the woman.

  “Listen, there’s no room here, and that chair looks horrible. You can sleep in the bed, as long as you don’t cross the line,” Leslie tells me after a moment.

  I look to the bed then return my gaze to her. “I don’t see a line,” I tell her playfully.

  “Don’t be a douche, Caleb. You know what I mean,” she says shoving my shoulder lightly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I playfully salute her.

  She moves over the right side of the bed and begins removing her shoes and jacket.

  “You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve been tipsy like this,” she admits.

  “Really? What do you do for fun nowadays?”

  “Well, I don’t get invited to mysterious parties happening in the woods or anything, but here and there I have a drink at the bar, or head to the city with a girlfriend.”

  “I see,” I say nonchalantly while removing my own shoes opposite of her.

  “My life isn’t as glamorous as yours. I haven’t traveled the world or purchased expensive things to keep my attention. I don’t need much. I just need ole’ Gus and my crossword puzzles most days and I’m set.”

  “Gus?” I ask.

  “My dog. When I moved out of my parents, they gave me a dog for security.”

  “Makes sense. But the question is, how far did you move away from them?”

  “I live in Lincoln. But, after a few years, mom and dad moved over to Lincoln too, so maybe 5 minutes away. They live on one side of town, and I live on the other, that’s their version of distance,” she explains.

  “I loved your parents, but man, they were always a little too close to comfort,” I shake my head.

  “They mean well,” she says quietly.

  “They love you, that’s for sure.”

  “They loved you too.”

  Stillness hangs in the air and a minute later, I smile, “I’m going to hit the head.”

  When I return, she has one of the spare blankets rolled into a line separating the bed into two. I laugh and grab some of the drinks from the fridge. I hold out my palm to her for her to choose her poison then I choose mine.

  I unscrew the lid and hold it up to her. “To us, we both grew up and kept our cool status.”

  Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

  We both decide to crawl under the covers onto our receptive sides of the bed two hours later. I roll over to face her and see that she’s already facing me. She has glassy eyes and a smile with her head on her elbow on the pillow.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask her daringly.

  “I don’t think that I’ve ever imagined that we’d be here again,” she offers quietly.

  “Here?” I ask lifting my head looking around the room, we haven’t been to this hotel before together.

  “I mean in the same space,” she explains with a roll of her eyes.

  “Well, believe it, we’re here in the flesh,” I slur.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she leans up on her elbow.

  “Anything,” I say to her and mean it.

  “Why? Why did you leave so abruptly? Why were you there one moment and not the next?” I see a tremor to her lip and feel guilt for being the cause.

  “I know that it’s not a real excuse, but I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I was thinking. I saw my opportunity and went with it.”

  “I thought that there was more to us?” she says sadly. “I thought that we had a future or that you would take me with you.”

  “I was an idiot kid, if I could go back and change how I did things back then, talking to you about it first would be my number one, I swear on it.”

  “So then, why haven’t you reached out over the years?” she asks looking me in the eye with a tear falling along her freckled cheekbone.

  I reach over and with the pad of my thumb to erase the tear, knowing that the pain that I’ve caused her for years, I cannot erase.

  “That would have been opening up something that I thought I didn’t deserve. I’ve always known that Mercy was too small for me, and I knew that you wouldn’t ever leave it. I did what I thought was best, and I forgot to take your feelings into account. Reaching out to you, would make me own up to my failure to be a good man to you, the type of man that you deserved. And I felt that after leaving like that, I definitely didn’t deserve you. I just assumed that it was too late, and possibly you would have moved on.” I admit with my eyes never straying from tearful eyes.

  “You have no idea what you leaving like that did to me, did to everyone,” she says and then covers her face in her hands.

  With her muffled cries, I pull away the blanket barrier and scoot closer to her. I place my hand on her shoulder and do what I can to soothe her, I move even closer so our bodies are touching and pull her against my chest where she continues to cry.

  After a few moments of rubbing her back, her quiet sounds and sniffles, she lifts her head.

  “I’m really sorry, Les. I was such an idiot kid,” I say, knowing that my words won’t remove what I lacked the courage to do in the past.

  She reaches up and her fingers trail along the right side of my beard.

  “I didn’t expect your beard to be so soft,” she says.

  “Nowadays, it’s just like taking care of the hair on top of your head, there’s all sorts of–” She cuts me off from talking by pushing up from her spot on my chest and placing her lips on mine.

  Her tongue pushes past my lips and teeth to meet with my tongue and when that happens, my hand moves from its position on the side of her body, to the back of her head. I can’t help but to pull her closer into me and return the kiss with fervor. I can’t have her close enough, as I hold her body as close to me as p
ossible. We kiss for several minutes and I’m not sure whether it’s the alcohol or the desire that we both have still for one another, but I’m letting this run as it is with as much strength that I can to not cross the line.

  Leslie makes that decision simple, one second later by pulling away and moving the cover to sit astride my lap. She’s wearing thin panties and the shirt that I removed before we climbed into bed earlier. My hands land on the top of her bare thighs as she puts her hair up while looking down at me with heat in her eyes, licking her lips.

  “What do you want, Leslie?” I ask her in between breaths.

  “I want you to make it all better?” she whispers.

  She takes my breath away and I smile.

  “This may not erase the past, but if you want it to be a page to the future, I can promise you that I wouldn’t hurt you again, not like that.”

  “I just want for right now, to feel good, to feel all of you,” she crisscrosses her arms and pulls the shirt over her head, baring slightly larger breasts than I remember from when we were teenagers. I slowly reach up to touch her dew drops and sigh audibly at the softness of her skin.

  “Gorgeous,” I whisper.

  She leans down and her breasts wave in front of my face. I lean up slightly and with my mouth capture one of her nipples.

  She begins to grind down on my lap, the thin strip of fabric catching on my erect cock which a second later, I notice she pulls me out of my boxers and fists my length before the crown of my cock feels the wetness between her legs and ultimately is my cock entering her.

  She sinks down on me, inch by inch slowly. Leslie throws her head back in a silent moan that comes out sounding more like the expelling of long breath.

  And she begins to ride me.

  I wake up with my head sharing a pillow with Leslie as my naked body curls around hers. I untangle myself and roll over onto my back while rubbing my eyes.

  I turn my head slowly to look at her briefly before I push the covers off of me, but careful to leave the ones on her untouched as I move to the bathroom.