“I know. Half the time I consider selling my car and just taking the train.” Angel stared up toward the ceiling, daydreaming. “One day I’ll have a luxurious house, with the full studio me and Tommy talked about. And a garage! Something near the water, maybe Long Island or New Jersey.”
“New Jersey?” The location surprised Jessi.
“Yeah. My parents moved there a few years ago. My brother and sister went with them, but I needed to stay here, for now anyway. Parts of New Jersey are very pretty. I want a lot of property. I’m so sick of everyone and everything being on top of each other in the city. But, until I can afford my dream house, I’m forced to live in an area the supports the underground music industry. Everything I do relates to music and the band, and I’m not going to stop or slow down until I get a record deal.”
Jessi followed Angel into the dining room, which doubled as a small office. He took a seat at the desk pushed up against the wall, and pulled up a chair for her. He went over the band’s schedule, gave her a list of contacts for all the venues and discussed ways to promote the band.
Angel liked to talk. He went from discussing business to telling her his life story. She was surprised to find out that he was two years older than her. Although his knowledge and experience in the music industry added to his maturity, his face had a boyish quality that made him seem much younger than his 27 years. She learned that Angel’s parents were Cuban nationals and came to America shortly before Angel was born. Angel’s mother wanted him to learn piano when he was a boy, but he could never sit still and practice long enough to really master it. He preferred to sing the songs instead of play them. He started taking voice lessons when he was ten years old, and joined his first band when he was twelve. She envisioned a 12-year old Angel, strutting his stuff, wearing leather jeans and fronting a boy band. It was precious.
“OK, back to business.” Angel slapped her leg. “How’s it going at the merch booth? Did you like it? Are you OK with handling it full time at the shows?”
“Are you kidding? I love it, and I got a great idea for shirts.” They got so sidetracked by conversation that she forgot about the research she put into finding a supplier for inexpensive custom shirts. She explained that they offered everything from spaghetti strap tank tops and baby doll tees to beach towels. “I could sketch out a few different designs to be silk screened, so people can buy more than one shirt”. She only wished she had the time to construct the garments herself.
Angel loved the idea. She could see him counting the sales and profits in his head.
The tops and merchandise reminded Jessi of Kendall, and the way she messed up the merch table. It made her stomach tighten. “Let me ask you a question. Who is this girl Kendall and what’s her story?”
“Kendall?” Angel looked uneasy. “Why? Did she say something?”
“She said a lot.”
Angel grimaced. “Well, we have a bit of history. I know her from voice class, when we were kids. I hadn’t seen her in probably ten years, and then she showed up at one of my gigs. We hung out, talked about old times, made fun of our voice teacher, got drunk. She got really drunk.” He rolled his eyes. “She just grabbed my face and kissed me. I thought it was really funny, actually, but she thought it meant something because I kissed her back. One kiss and she thought she was going to convert me.”
“I tried to ditch her for a while, but she was at every gig. I finally told her that the kiss wasn’t sexual. It didn’t mean anything. I’m not one of those guys who are going to die of disgust because I kissed a girl. I’ve kissed girls before, but as a joke. To be funny. And that’s what I thought it was – a joke.” He stared at the floor for a few seconds. “She didn’t get it. I had to be blunt and tell her that I wasn’t the least bit interested. I’m gay and there’s nothing she’s going to do to make me want to be with her. It made me feel bad. It still does. But now it’s really uncomfortable, because she won’t leave me alone.”
“I don’t like her.”
Angel laughed. “You’re not one to sugar coat anything, are you?”
“No. I tell it like it is. Not many people rub me the wrong way like she does, Angel. I don’t like her, and I don’t trust her.”
Chapter Twelve
Tommy thought they were supposed to be writing music, but where were Damien and Jimmy? And why were they at Angel’s apartment instead of the studio?
Angel set two drinks down on the coffee table and sat next to him. “Play something for me.”
Tommy picked up his Fender and strummed Adrenaline Rush.
“No.” Angel placed his hand on Tommy’s thigh. “I don’t want to hear one of our songs. Play something you wrote.”
Tommy’s eye went straight to Angel’s hand. His leg tingled and a bolt of fire shot to his groin. He couldn’t think of anything to play. His mind was clouded with visions of Angel’s hand traveling up his thigh, slowly unzipping his jeans, touching his flesh for the first time . . .”
“Play anything. What was the last song you wrote with your old band?”
The sound of Angel’s voice yanked him out of his fantasy. He pulled the guitar closer to hide his erection, and played one of his songs from Psychobabble. Angel’s penetrating gaze was too distracting, so Tommy focused on his fingers and on the guitar strings. About half way through the song he stopped playing and looked up at Angel.
“You’re amazing.” Angel touched his knee again. “You’re a titan on the guitar. I wish I could do that.”
“I could teach you how to play.”
“Oh, no.” Angel laughed, modestly. “I can’t play the guitar. It’s too hard.”
Angel tried to protest, but Tommy put the guitar in his lap. He was apprehensive, almost afraid to hold it. It was adorable.
“It’s not going to break.” Tommy positioned the guitar on Angel’s knee. “Get the feel of it in your hands for a while.”
Angel held the guitar in a rigid embrace, but made no attempt to play it.
Tommy demonstrated a simple chord and put the guitar back in Angel’s lap. He tried to replicate it, but his hand was awkward around the fretboard and his fingers couldn’t reach the strings.
Tommy moved closer and held Angel’s manicured and uncalloused fingertips over the correct strings.
Angel furrowed his brow and concentrated on holding them down. He glanced up at Tommy. “Like this?”
Angel’s dark eyes peeked through the strands of his jet black hair.
Tommy slowly nodded.
“Now what do I do?”
Tommy put the pick between Angel’s fingers. “Strike all six strings in one fluid motion.”
Their thighs were touching and Tommy could feel Angel’s warm breath blowing across his cheek.
Angel dragged the pick over the guitar strings. It was slow and choppy.
“That’s it. That’s good. Now, do it again, only do it really fast this time.”
Teaching guitar never sounded so dirty.
Angel repeated the chord several times, each time with more confidence and eventually, all the notes rang together.
“You did it. That’s a G chord.”
“I can’t believe it. My prince! Thank you so much!”
Those two words always made Tommy’s blood race and sent his heart into a static frenzy. “I love it when you call me, my prince,” he said, softly.
Angel’s eyes bore into Tommy’s for several seconds. “My prince,” he whispered.
A hot shiver ran down Tommy’s back. He could barely hear anything over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. The sexual chemistry they shared was palpable. It was an entity that occupied its own space. It crowded the room and pushed them together.
Angel put the guitar on its stand. His gaze was strong and penetrating.
The palms of Tommy’s hands began to sweat and he fidgeted in his seat. Thoughts of Jessi pierced his heart and made him look away. As much as he wanted to kiss Angel, he couldn’t do it behind Jessi’s back. And he still couldn’t
tell Jessi how much he cared about Angel. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He had no choice but to slink further down the couch and back away.
The disappointment was clear on Angel’s face. He looked wounded and sad.
Tommy wanted to take Angel in his arms, throw him down on the couch and rip his shirt off. He wanted to put his lips to Angel’s neck and to his chest. He wanted to do so much more, but his love for Jessi held him back. He needed to do something else, quickly, and he reached for the guitar to rescue him. “Let me show you something else.” He quickly ran through a couple of chords, played a short melody and rattled off a half hour lesson in five minutes.
Angel gave him a bewildered smile. “There’s no way I absorbed anything you just said.”
Tommy laughed, nervously. “I’m sorry. Maybe we should just . . . slow down a little.”
“OK. If that’s what you want . . . my prince.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jessi crawled into bed and rolled over to face Tommy. He was on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, reading one of his guitar magazines. She tucked his hair behind his ear so she could see his face. He glanced up and gave her a tiny smile before returning to his reading. She watched him and stroked his long, silky hair. She entwined her fingers through it and smoothed it down the center of his back.
They had been out with Angel again tonight. She was at his apartment discussing merchandise sales. They got on the subject of fashion and she ended up embellishing one of the jackets he wore when he performed. She lost track of time and Tommy came by looking for her. The three of them went out for dinner and then for a few drinks, afterwards.
Jessi studied the interaction between Tommy and Angel over the course of the night. She had a tight friendship with Angel, but Tommy and Angel had a bond. Their interaction was always flirtatious, but it was also that of – she hated to say it –an old married couple, but a couple whose spark still ignited fire. Tommy and Angel were comfortable with one another, familiar, but the intensity they shared was so strong that you could see it with the naked eye. It was actually very similar to the relationship she had with Tommy.
As she continued to pet his hair and run her fingers through it, she realized that they hadn’t shared their bed with anyone in a long time – not since Angel came into their lives. It hit her hard, like a slap in the face. Since Tommy met Angel, he didn’t want to be with another man. Angel was the only man on his mind.
“Can I ask you a question, baby?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “How come you haven’t brought any candy home lately?” That’s what Tommy called the men he brought into their bedroom. It was easier for him to say, ‘I’m going to stop and get some candy on the way home’ than to say ‘I’m going to pick up a random stranger and let him fuck me senseless’. It became their code word. “It’s been a while. I don’t remember you taking a break before. Are you turning straight on me?” She was teasing him.
“I am straight.”
“Really? Because I think your gay lovers would say differently.” He never acknowledged that he was bisexual. She knew he hated the word. In his head, he was straight. The things he did on the side with men didn’t count.
He cast his magazine aside and faced her. He didn’t say anything. He only met her gaze with a defiant smile.
“I have another question for you.”
“You’re full of question tonight, aren’t you?” He took her hand and placed it on his crotch. “Maybe I can find something else for you to do with that inquisitive mouth of yours.”
She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I’ll get to it. I was just wondering, how come you never top? You’re tough and masculine. I wouldn’t peg you for a bottom.”
“I like the bottom.” His hand traveled over her hip and he grabbed her left butt cheek and gave it a hard squeeze. “I don’t want anyone else’s ass. This is all the ass I need. If I want it, I’ll take it. Besides, just because I’m on the bottom, doesn’t mean I’m not in charge.”
Tommy was in charge of everything in his life. He knew what he wanted and he went after it. He was in control, which is probably why he struggled so much with his attraction to men. It was something he couldn’t deny. Something he didn’t have control over.
Jessi knew he was struggling with his feelings for Angel. He never talked about it, but she knew. When Tommy was near Angel, he shined. That was the only word she could use to describe it. There was a light in his eye, an ease in his personality that she never saw before – like Tommy was finally truly happy, deep down inside. A small part of her wondered if Tommy would be just as happy if she stepped out of the equation, but she tried not to think about it.
It was only a matter of time before the situation came to a head and exploded. Someone already pulled the pin out of the grenade and she was waiting for the explosion. When the smoke cleared she had no idea where the pieces would land. Even though the three of them shared a harmonious and close relationship, once Tommy and Angel connected on a sexual level, their world would change. In the end, there may only be one man, or woman, standing at Tommy’s side. It scared the hell out of her, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She knew going in that Tommy was bisexual, even though he refused to put a label on his sexuality.
She wasn’t jealousy. She was afraid. You couldn’t dictate who you loved. It wasn’t possible to choose which sex you were attracted to. But what happens when you’re attracted to both? Loving two people at the same time and making it work seemed unrealistic. She understood that asking Tommy to choose between her and Angel wasn’t a possibility. Ultimatums backfire. Plus, she always knew Tommy needed a man in his life. She never tried to kid herself into thinking he didn’t. She went into this marriage with her eyes wide open. She only hoped that there was room for her in Tommy’s life after he got together with Angel, otherwise she would step out of the picture. She wouldn’t take a back seat to anyone.
Chapter Fourteen
A pair of luminescent green eyes smiled at Angel through the congested bar. There was only one person who possessed those bright green eyes – Kenny Henderson.
They walked toward each other, squeezing through the crowd of people, until they were facing one another. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet an old boyfriend?” Kenny asked.
Angel kissed him lightly on the lips and gave him a hug. Kenny clung to him for several seconds. When he looked back into Kenny’s eyes, they were full of emotion. “Is everything OK?”
“Not really. I’m just a little down, and I thought some music would cheer me up. I found this flyer on the windshield of my car.” Kenny pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it.
“That’s Jessi’s work. My guitar player’s wife. She’s a firecracker.” He touched Kenny’s arm. “I’m really glad you came to see the show.”
Kenny smiled back, but there was so much pain in his eyes. It broke Angel’s heart. “What’s the matter? You look like you lost your best friend.”
Kenny pressed his lips together. “I kinda did. I broke up with my boyfriend a couple of days ago. He said he wanted to see other people.” Kenny swallowed hard. “I’m so lonely and heartbroken. I could really use some company tonight. My broken heart could really use some comforting.”
“You poor thing. Of course I’ll be there for you.” He hugged Kenny, and when he broke the embrace, Tommy was standing at his side, scowling. It caught Angel off guard, and he waited for Tommy to say something, but Tommy just stood there with his arms folded across his chest.
Angel introduced Tommy to Kenny, but it was awkward. Kenny didn’t say much, but it was understandable. Kenny was always shy, and he was sad and vulnerable right now. Tommy was being standoffish, almost rude. It was uncomfortable. He excused himself from Kenny and pulled Tommy aside. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me.”
“Are you mad or something?”
“Is that guy an old boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Why? Is there
a problem?”
“I don’t know.” Tension pulled at the corner of Tommy’s mouth. “What does he want?”
Tommy was jealous, and Angel was thrilled. It meant Tommy cared. It meant Tommy had real feelings for him. Up until now, Angel wasn’t entirely sure that Tommy wasn’t just playing games.
“Are you going to sleep with that guy?”
Angel still didn’t know how to answer. Maybe this was the perfect time to verbalize their relationship instead of tossing innuendo back and forth. “What if I said yes? Would you be upset?”
“I’m already upset.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Well, what does that mean, mi amor?”
Tommy tried to suppress a smile, but he wasn’t doing a good job of it. “What did you just call me?”
“Mi amor. It means, my love. You are my love, you know. What are we doing, Tommy? Me and you. Spell it out for me.”
Tommy took a long time to answer. “I don’t know.”
Angel exhaled. “I can’t keep my life on hold.”
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“Tommy . . . I don’t want you to be mad at me. If something’s on your mind, you have to tell me.”
Tommy looked past Angel and studied Kenny. “Go. Your friend looks upset. He looks like he needs someone to talk to.”
“You sure? Because I don’t want you to be mad and not talk to me tomorrow.”
“I’m sure.”
“Thank you . . . mi amor.” He put his hands on Tommy’s impressive shoulders, which was probably the wrong thing to do. The hard rounded muscles were strong, and all he wanted to do was caress them. And he did. Slowly. Never averting his gaze from the taught flesh that strained underneath the black Motörhead tee, he lightly ran his hands over the arch of Tommy’s shoulders. He skimmed the top of Tommy’s substantial upper back and leaned in for a hug.
Tommy returned the embrace. The solid muscles in their chests bumped into each other, and got acquainted. It only lasted a few glorious seconds before Tommy slid his hands from around Angel’s waist and stepped back.
The Prince of Punk Rock Page 6