by Erin Noelle
We continued to track the lights in the sky as they grew closer. As the plane made its final descent for landing, I squeezed my arms around her tightly and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I love you, Scarlett. Nothing will ever change that.”
UNWANTED
#BEAUTIFUL—MARIAH CAREY & MIGUEL
DAYLIGHT—MAROON 5
SCARLETT
I was so glad that Mason had forced me to leave the apartment and spend the day out with him. We were both miserable, looking at the clock as we counted our last hours together. The fresh air, delicious food, and mindless wandering were a great distraction from the impending separation, and it wasn’t until I was snuggled up against him that night watching the planes take off and land did the reality of him leaving the next day hit me.
Sitting parked on the motorcycle, emotions raced through me—fear, sadness, anger, love . . . I was an internal wreck. I needed him to hold me and tell me he loved me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. I wondered if I should’ve just walked away the moment I found out he was moving; if I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become any more attached to him than I had already become. I shook my head slightly, forcing myself to block out the doubts and uncertainties I had about a long distance relationship working.
Mason tightened his arms around my waist just as a landing plane approached us, so low it looked like it was going to land directly on top of us, and I felt a surge of desire shoot through me. I needed him immediately, needed him to claim me, to show me he wanted me as his. I leaned my head back on his chest and wiggled my ass against his crotch.
Chuckling, he dropped his head to my neck and brought his mouth just centimeters from my ear. “What do you think you are doing, Angel?”
Shivers ran down my spine all the way to my dampening core. Pressing against him again, I closed my eyes and moaned ever-so-lightly. “I need you now.”
“Aw fuck,” he grumbled. “You’re gonna kill me. You know that?” He dipped his head back to my neck, but this time he bit the skin where my neck and shoulder meet. Instinctively, I clenched my legs together and arched my back, allowing lust to take control.
I knew that Mason felt the same overwhelming need to be inside of me because after gently kissing the sensitive area he had bitten, he wasted no time in yanking my t-shirt over my head. His hands quickly found my breasts, and he began teasing my nipples rubbing his thumbs back and forth until they pebbled and stuck out the top of my white lace bra. Reaching behind me, my hand found the button on his jeans and I hastily unfastened it. I slipped my hand inside his boxers so that I could feel his skin against mine, and I wrapped my fingers around his growing erection.
With my head still resting back against his shoulder, I turned my face slightly to take in his facial features for what felt like was the last time. Our eyes were locked on one another and it was if we were trying to say everything we so desperately wanted to, but were afraid to.
“Now,” I whispered, and that was all the asking I needed to do.
Mason’s hands traveled south down my body as he sucked, licked, bit, and kissed all over my neck and shoulders. His hands reached my thighs and he hiked up my loose cotton skirt until it was around my waist.
“Do exactly what I tell you, understand Angel?” he asked kissing the side of my forehead. Still unable to form a coherent response, I simply nodded again.
“Lean forward and put your hands on the handlebars,” he instructed. Doing as I was told, he reached down to my ass and grabbed my matching white thong, ripping it straight off my body. Holy. Fuck.
I heard him unzip his jeans, tear open a foil packet, and then felt him readjust his weight on the bike. I was still leaning forward, grasping the bars for dear life, as I anxiously anticipated the feel of Mason buried inside me. I should’ve been appalled at myself—half-naked on a motorcycle out in the open about to have sex where anyone could drive up and see at any time, but in that moment all of the reasons why I shouldn’t be doing any or all of those things, made the situation that much sexier.
I was dripping wet before his hand ever touched me, and when his fingers met my slick heat, I just about came apart right then.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “You like being a naughty girl don’t you?”
“Mmm hmm . . . for you Mase . . . anything,” were the only words I managed to form in between my muffled whimpers as he spread my juices all around my aching clit and swollen lips.
He grabbed my hip bones with both hands and tilted my pelvis to where I was practically lying flat on my stomach. Moments later I felt the tip of his cock nudging against my throbbing sex. Expecting him to gradually work his way inside of me, I screamed when he plunged deep inside of me with his first thrust. Still holding my hips, he slowly pulled out about halfway before slamming inside me again. Lost in the sheer ecstasy of it all, I threw my head back and yelled, “Oh my God!”
Bringing one hand up to the nape of my neck, he gathered my hair and wrapped it around his palm. He tugged gently on it at first causing my head to jerk back a bit, and I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth to keep from shouting again. Sensing how much I enjoyed him being rough with me, he continued to thrust in and out of me while pulling my long locks and squeezing my hip. Consumed in the passion and euphoria, neither of us said another word, our panting and sensual moans were the only audible sounds until we both reached our breaking point.
I attempted to stay quiet as my orgasm took over my trembling body, but it was impossible. “Mason, oh please, yeessss!” I cried out at the same time as I felt his body tense up and shake as he emptied himself into me.
Neither of us moved for several minutes as we allowed our heartbeats to return to a normal pace and we caught our breath. I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened. One minute we were watching planes and the next minute I was sprawled out on a motorcycle being taken from behind. The sex was so raw and hedonistic that I felt like I had been on a date with Deuce, my favorite motorcycle club book bad boy, himself. Snickering to myself at the thought, I closed my eyes and waited for him to move. He finally released his grip and slowly eased out, collapsing on top of me.
“Lets go home and get some rest, Angel. I love you,” he said as he kissed my cheek and sat up.
After we reorganized ourselves and our clothes, we headed back to the apartment for the dreaded last night before he left. We showered together, neither of us wanting to be apart from the other, even for a few minutes. We spent the rest of the night holding one another, our limbs intertwined, making sweet love, but when the sun shone through the curtains in the early morning hours, a sick feeling settled in my stomach and I was scared again of being left alone.
MASON
Cruz showed up at ten o’clock on the dot the following morning. Of all fucking times that he decided to be on time, this was the one instance I wanted him to be late. Scarlett and I were both exhausted from lack of sleep, but I didn’t want to waste any time with her. I could sleep in Austin whenever I wanted. We had eaten breakfast in silence; I had just thought the day before was tough—it was nothing compared to the day of the actual move. We packed my bags into Cruz’s car and he took off toward our new home, leaving me to say goodbye to my angel.
Standing face to face in the living room, I had no idea that leaving her would be so hard. Seeing her sad brown eyes stare into mine only added to the pain I already felt. I kept reminding myself that I would be back in just a week to visit, and then once I figured out what was happening with Jobu’s Rum, I would ask her to move in with me there. I hoped I didn’t go fucking insane until then.
Not wanting to prolong the inescapable, I pulled her snugly against my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her petite frame. I knew she was trying to be strong for both herself and for me, which was just another reason I loved her so fucking much.
“I will call you when I get there. I will be back next Sunday for a couple of nights, okay?” I tried reassuring her. “We will Skype every day and you can text me
anytime, for anything.”
“Okay,” she murmured into my chest.
I pulled back from her a bit so that I could look at her beautiful face one last time before leaving. I cupped my hands around her jawline and brushed my thumb over her lips. Leaning down, I gently placed a kiss on her full lips.
“Goodbye Angel, I love you.”
“I love you too, Mase.”
And with those final words, I traipsed down the stairs and onto my bike and drove away from my reason to live. Life was really fucking cruel sometimes.
FALLING APART
I MISS YOU—INCUBUS
ONE WAY OR ANOTHER—KATE VOEGELE
SOME NIGHTS—FUN
YOU’RE THE ONE—TYRONE WELLS
SCARLETT
Knowing that I would need a distraction the day Mason left, I made plans with Mina to have lunch and go shopping with her for her honeymoon wardrobe. I didn’t want to wallow around the apartment alone and watching Mina shop was always an entertaining adventure.
As soon as I could no longer see him driving off down the road, I went back inside and jumped in the shower. It was when the stinging hot water hit my face that I finally allowed myself to cry. And did I ever. I stood there for at least ten minutes and just let it all out—my tears flowed at an equivalent rate as the overhead spray and my sobs echoed loudly in the walls of the shower. Eventually, my body relaxed, my breathing returned to normal, and I was able to soap up and get out. I threw on some jeans and a pink t-shirt, slid my feet in my flip flops and went to the living room to wait for her.
Fifteen minutes later, I was woken up by the banging on the door and heard Mina’s voice from the other side. “Scarlett? Are you in there?”
I jumped up and ran to let her in. “Sorry, hun, I passed out on the couch,” I explained as I ushered her inside.
“You look like shit. You’re not going anywhere looking like that,” she said as she hugged me and walked into the apartment.
“I don’t care what I look like. I’m just going for the company.”
“Well I care what you look like so my company will suck if you look like that. Your eyes are so swollen you look like you’ve been sitting around hitting the bong, now come on. At least put a little Visine in and some lip gloss wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Can’t you show me a little sympathy? My boyfriend moved out of town today,” I whined and made a pouty face.
“Nope. You gotta learn to live on your own and I’m not gonna let you sit around and feel sorry for yourself. You knew what you were getting into with him, you knew he was leaving. You decided he was worth trying a long distance relationship with, so now put on your big girl panties and deal with it,” she scolded me. “And get your ass ready, Max is meeting us at Gigi’s at the Galleria in thirty minutes.”
I knew that everything she said was the truth, but knowing and feeling were two very separate things. However, finding that I would get to see Max made me feel a little better, so I threw on a little makeup and threw my hair into a messy French twist to appease Mina and we left for the mall.
Lunch with my two closest friends helped pull me out of my funk, and the delicious Asian-inspired plates that we all shared didn’t hurt either. Max left after we finished the meal, claiming that even though hours of shopping with us sounded tempting he really needed to do some research for his thesis.
Pulling me in for a hug before he headed to the parking garage, he whispered, “Whatever you need, whenever you need it, please call me. I know you feel alone right now, but you’re not. I’m always here, okay?”
I nodded and said, “Okay, I know,” trying my best not to start crying again. I knew he was just trying to be supportive, and I was so thankful that I had people like him and Mina to help me through the rough patches. He kissed both Mina and me on the cheek before heading out the glass double doors, and the two of us girls headed for the clothing shops.
The first night sleeping in the bed alone was tough. Mason and I had Skyped while I lay there until I could no longer keep my eyes open. He had given me a video tour of his apartment and then sang to me about how much he missed me. We promised to talk the next morning and I disconnected the call only to find myself suddenly wide awake. Hours passed and I just stared at the ceiling, my mind covering every topic from family to school to religion to Mason. Finally around three or four in the morning, my body gave up and I passed out from exhaustion.
Mason came home the following Sunday as promised and we nearly mauled each other before he could even get through the door. I never realized that you could have a physical dependence on another person, but my body literally ached for his touch, my lips longed for his kiss. We did not leave the bed the entire twenty four hours he was there except to shower—we ate there, we talked there, we watched TV there, and we thoroughly enjoyed each other’s bodies there. I didn’t go to my Monday classes even though finals were fast approaching, but I didn’t care. There was no way I was missing any time that I could spend with him.
When he left the second time, it was hard, but not nearly as bad as the first. I knew that he loved me and that he would be back soon; I just had to keep reminding myself of that when I started to feel lonely. I really had to buckle down with my studies with less than a month left in the semester. Between school, work, and spending time with Mina and Max, I kept myself busy. It was at night when I was alone in the bed that I was reminded of his absence.
Jobu’s Rum had hit the Austin music scene running. Bentley had apparently set them up to play in some of the bigger bars and they were received well and requested often. They started booking more and more shows which was great for Mason and the guys, but meant that he wasn’t able to talk at night nor was he able to come home to visit. Our phone conversations had been moved to my lunch time, which was normally around the time that he was waking up from being out late the night before. We never went a day without speaking but I couldn’t help but feel like we were growing apart. We even missed one another over the Thanksgiving break. I had gone home to visit my family which was less than hour from Mason’s apartment, but Jobu’s Rum was playing the entire weekend in Dallas.
I was anxiously awaiting the first weekend of December, which was Noah and Mina’s bachelor/bachelorette parties, but more importantly marked the end of finals week. All of the guys were supposed to be coming home for the party, and they had given Bentley strict instructions not to schedule anything for them that entire weekend.
That Friday I had my two final exams. I had been a complete ball of stress due to the countless hours of reading, minimal sleep, and having not seen Mason in nearly four weeks. I hated that we would be split up between guys and girls for most of the night, but the important thing to me was that he would be sleeping in bed with me that night.
When I had finally turned in my last paper, I stepped outside and grabbed my phone to check the time. At the sight of a missed call and voicemail from Mason, my stomach dropped and I immediately knew something wasn’t right. I listened to his message which only confirmed my suspicions.
“Hey Angel, I know that you’re probably in your finals but I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. I am soooo sorry, but we have an opportunity to play for the tour manager and record label for VanderBlue and we can’t pass this up. If they like us, it could be life changing. I am so sorry. I will be home in the morning and will stay until Monday morning. I love you. Call me when you get this.”
A combination of defeat, anger, disappointment, and loneliness washed over me. I hurried to my car as the tears began splashing down my cheeks. I just wanted to go home and curl up in bed. As I approached my car, I noticed a small package slipped under one of my windshield wipers. Momentarily forgetting about my devastation, I grabbed the small square wrapped in brown packing paper and bound with a rubber band. “Scarlett” was written across the front in a familiar handwriting. Not waiting to shuffle through all of the possibilities in my head, I removed the wrapping to find a
book—Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach. Interesting. I opened the inside cover to find the neatly handwritten words “Fly with your own wings, Psyche. You are stronger than you think. There will be many trials and tribulations to pass before being rewarded with your ambrosia.”
I slid down the side of my car and sat on the concrete and read those three sentences over and over. What did he know? How did he know? Why did reading his words after not speaking to or seeing him for months stir feelings inside of me that I thought had been buried forever? Why did I feel like everything was falling apart?
Reluctantly, I pulled myself off the ground, got into my car, and tossed the book onto the passenger seat. I couldn’t even let my mind go there in that moment. The first thing I had to deal with was my non-relationship with Mason. I understood that the music was important and that he felt accountable to his friends, but I was tired of playing second best. I needed him to do something to show me that he wanted this to work. Words could only go so far.
When I got home, I hit Mason’s name on my call list and braced myself for what I knew was going to be a tough conversation.
“Angel,” he answered.
“Hey, I got your message.” I said flatly.
“I’m so sorry about this, Scarlett. You know I wouldn’t do it unless it was REALLY important.”
Afraid I would lose my nerve if I waited any longer, I unloaded on him. “When do I become REALLY important, Mason? I haven’t seen you in over a month. You told me you would come home every week and I have seen you once.”
“Angel, you know that I have to do these shows. Right now it’s about getting us out there as much as possible. I miss you like crazy, there’s nothing I want more than to come home to you, but when I agreed to commit to this with these guys, I didn’t know . . .”