by Xavier Neal
“Like what?”
“Like you wish I was someone else.” His own eyes follow his hands. “You’ve never looked at me like I’m second best. Not once.” Before I can counter he smiles, “From the first night I saw you, drunk or not, I knew that look because it was the one I had seen Maxx give Kellar a million times before he had the balls to admit it. I wanted that. And now I have that. And I couldn’t live without it.”
Feeling too much emotion creeping up I try to peal myself off of him and shake away the emotions. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get dressed to go have dinner.”
He groans in resistance but let’s me lead him out of the living to our bedroom to get dressed for the evening.
Oh no...I said our bedroom, didn’t I? This can’t possibly be real. I can’t really be this head over heels in love with a guy I’ve known for a little over two weeks. That’s crazy. That’s not even possible. I’m not sure how much more of this dreamlike bliss I can fucking handle. The deeper I fall, the more I know it’s gonna hurt when he finally wakes up and sees I’m not the girl he thought I was.
Chapter 12
Tony
Glancing over at Lex as she buckles her seatbelt I fight the urge to smile again.
I don’t know how she does that. Just being around her makes me wanna grin and tell her every little detail I keep locked deep down inside. Damn it. Now I sound like one of those chick flicks.
After my eyes admire her in a pair of jeans that don’t have holes in them to my surprise and the black off the shoulder top, which is the most modest one I’ve see her wear, I start the ignition.
Curious I say, “Well I let my family nightmare slip. Tell me about yours.”
“I don’t think so,” Lex insists, pulling her red hair to the side.
“Lex...” my voice warns.
“No.”
“Lex…”
“I said no.”
“If this marriage is gonna work—”
“It’s not a real marriage, Tony!” she barks, causing me to stop the car from backing out of my parking space.
“Excuse me?”
In a huff voice she snaps again, “You keep saying stuff like that but it’s not a real marriage. We got drunk and married for fun. You only agreed to stay married to me because I need the green card. We both know that....that once I get it the charade is over. So can we not...do the marriage talk thing? It’s just gonna make it hurt that much more when you decide you’re done playing house.”
I wait until her eyes pull themselves up to mine to say, “So that’s it? I don’t get a say?” Lex remains silent. “Yeah at first maybe that was the case, but that didn’t last long. I like being married to you. Fuck that. I love being married to you. And I plan to stay married to you not just so you can have your green card because...I don’t know, I guess I think you’re just kinda the perfect girl for me—”
“I’m not perfect for anyone,” Lex states firmly. “Trust me.”
“Why?” I adjust my body in my seat. “Why do you think that?”
“Because the only reason I even got where I am today was because I was willing to drop to my knees and open my jaw to get here!”
That’s an image...
“I was brought up to be a good girl, a good church going girl. A good church going girl that sang in the choir. Whose mother hosted Bible thumping book studies every Tuesday night. Whose father destroyed every non-Christian music CD he found before damning me to hell. When he found out I had been singing at open mic nights, he kicked me out of the house and told me I was dead to him and the rest of the family. I was fucking fifteen years old...” Lex croaks out a sudden choking sound in her voice. “Fifteen with nowhere to go! Fifteen with three brothers and two sisters who I’ll never see again, because I liked music that didn’t say ‘Amen’ at the end of every fucking line! I couch surfed occasionally. Shelters when it was too cold to sleep outside. Thankfully, I got work helping clean up this bar after hours, but it came at the price of a daily blow job. And when he was bored with me, it was on to the next bar, same pattern until Dustin, our first manager discovered me singing one night. Promised to get me over to America, make me a rock star if I was willing to work for it. And I did. I let him use my body as he got my career off the ground. I slept my way to the point I’m at.”
My hand reaches out to touch hers when she flinches away.
“Don’t...” she shakes her head at me. “I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need anything from anyone. I can take care of myself. I have for over a decade.” Ignoring her wish for me not to touch her, I unbuckle my seatbelt, and lean my face into hers. Lex shuts her eyes tightly shaking her head, “Don’t...”
I wrap my fingers softly around the back of her neck and rest my forehead against hers. “Baby...I’m not going anywhere.” She sniffles. “And I don’t care about you any less for having a rough past.” With a simple nudge of her nose, I motion for her lips to softly press against mine. Thankfully she melts to the touch and every emotion that was riding high, cruises back down to a calming level.
I love how we can do that for each other. I think everyone should have someone in their life that does that for them.
***
Parking in my father’s driveway behind my brother’s SUV, I yank the keys out of the ignition in no mood to have to be here.
With the wedding next weekend, I know there’s no weaseling my way out of this. Maybe if I convince Lex to fake food poisoning, we can bail pretty quickly.
The two of us stroll hand in hand up to the white painted door where I hesitate to knock. She shoots me a soft look, her makeup perfect, back in place, and nods that we can do this. That from now on, I don’t have to deal with these people alone.
After two short knocks the door opens and a spitting image of me is standing there.
I look just like him, which is why my mother hates me even more and probably why out of the two of them he’s more understanding.
“Tony!” he exclaims happy to see me, which indicates how many beers he’s already had. “And who’s the gorgeous woman too good looking to be wrapped around you?”
“Dad, meet Lex. Lex meet my father, Roy,” I make introductions and they quickly shake hands.
He leads us through their quaint one story house decorated in a combination of country living meets Martha Stewart to the formal living room where my brother and Clarissa are already seated, side by side, my step-father on the other side of her meaning my mother will be sitting on the other side of me.
As soon as my mother sees me she fusses, “Tony, why didn’t you shave?” Without waiting for a response she huffs, “Always a disappointment.”
What was that? Two point seven seconds?
“I don’t know,” Lex chimes in. “I kinda like the scruff.”
“Makes him look slightly manlier,” my father agrees with Lex I assume just to watch my mother make a bitch face.
They do this often.
“And who are you?” My mother scoffs.
It’s weird to me how the genetic lottery fell. I look like my father. Mike my mother. My features dark with light eyes, his features light with dark eyes. They look like something Barbie and Ken should’ve produced while my dad and I look like something you’d probably never glance at twice.
“That’s Lex,” my father answers quickly. Before, he sits down at the head of the table at the opposite end from my step-mother.
“People don’t really name their children that, do they?” she sounds baffled as she clutches her pearls that match Clarissa’s.
A Christmas gift from the first year my brother cursed her upon their lives. I knew her from before that. Don’t ask. Not now.
“Mine did.” Lex flops down in the chair across from my brother who does his best not to tense in the situation. “Pleasure to see you again, Clarissa.”
She rolls her eyes and leans over to whisper something in my brother’s ear.
“Again? And why have you two met before?” my mother snips.
<
br /> “Because Anthony married that thing in Vegas,” Clarissa clarifies.
Quickly I point a finger at her. “She’s not a thing, Clarissa.”
“I was being modest.”
“She’s my wife!”
“She’s not your wife,” my mother sighs disgusted.
“Well at least he’s not gay,” my step-mother joins the conversation.
Did you think I was gay?
“She made a man out of you, son,” my father gives me a good pat on the back. “Finally.”
Not sure if I should feel insulted or grateful he is somewhat on my side I reply, “Uh..thanks?”
“She did not,” my mother leans around to yell at my father. “She made a fool out of him!”
“You made a fool out of him!” my father thunders.
The bickering of who made me the bigger disappointment begins and I shrink into my own skin.
See why I love Maxx and them so much more? Yeah, they give me shit, but they support me. They don’t string me up and turn me into a piñata for their pain and bitterness. They don’t lash at me for sitting down at the table. They don’t regret every minute of their lives I’ve been in it. Well, at least not to my face. That’s all a guy can really ask for.
When Lex’s hand gives my thigh a soft squeeze, I turn to look at her seeing a warm smile. One that lets me know no matter what they say she’s staying right where she is. With me.
“Enough!” my brother bellows. “Drop it!”
My father tries again, “But—”
“I said drop it.” Mike huffs.
“It’s your fault Mike’s upset,” she snips at me under her breath.
“It’s not small fry’s fault. It’s yours,” my father bitches back picking up his beer.
Lifting my eyes to the ceiling Mike growls, “Give it a goddamn rest please.” Before either of them have a chance to resume the argument Mike sits up straight, adjusts his tie and states, “The wedding is a week away. Let’s focus on that.”
The shift in the conversation has both sets of my parents back on a topic they are oddly comfortable with, most likely because there are decisions that they don’t have to agree on. Clarissa leads the conversation describing details of the selected songs, to those about her family and the special guests that will be attending. My step-mother looks like she’s going to be in a room with royalty while my step-father looks relieved he will be among people of his own kind. When I finally look up from my over-cooked steak, I see my brother give me a head nod to meet him in the other room.
Leaning over I whisper in Lex’s ear, “I’ll be right back. Try to start faking not feeling well so we can bail.”
She pulls her face back to look at me before giving me a wink to let me know she’s on board.
Yup, I love this woman.
To no surprise no one says anything about the two of us slipping away. In the small kitchen I lean my back against the counter directly in front of the dishwasher that’s rinsing a load.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“We just need to talk.”
Confused since he rarely has anything to say to me that isn’t translated into him being a prick or making him look better I raise my eyebrows. “About?”
“Look, small fry, I know you think Lix is fun—”
“Lex.”
“Right.” He shakes it off and pushes his hands in his dress pants pockets. “But that’s all she is. That’s all she’s ever gonna be.”
Feeling anger quickly coming on I try to calm it down. “You don’t know her.”
“I know more than you think.” His implication has my jaw wanting to throb. “Take my advice, which I know you hate almost as much as our parents. End this. She’s not the right kind of girl for you.”
“Why? Because she’s not prim and proper like Miss Clarissa? Everyone has a past Mike. Even your precious pearl wearing fiancé.”
“That’s not all of it,” he ignores my sneer at him. “Lex is on the move for a living. She doesn’t stay still. She likes to party. She likes the attention. She likes moving from city to city, guy to guy. Whatever delusions you’ve bought into this reality it’s still a simple fact. Lex is a musician, Tony. She’s gonna move on regardless of her feelings for you. Everything is temporary to them. They’re rarely in the same state for longer than a month, let alone the same city. That’s the world she lives in. Not you. You have a family here. Friends. A job. She’s a moving object. You’re not. And she’s never going to be that girl you want her to be. The sooner you wrap your mind around that the better. Have your fun, get your dick touched, whatever, but prepare yourself because that girl’s gonna walk out on you. Guaranteed.”
My eyes lower to the ground.
Part of me knows he’s right. Part of me has already thought about that. But he’s wrong. He has to be. Sure, a girl like Lex is used to moving but, then why does she keep coming back to me? Why open up to me? Unless...do you think there’s a chance that Lex is only acting this way, doing those things so I don’t go back on helping with the green card? Do you think she’d just fall into a character to please me until she got what she needed?
“Ready?” Lex calls from the doorway. When my eyes shoot up to hers she winks at me before faking a look of pain. “I’m not feeling very good.”
You know what? Neither am I.
Chapter 13
Lex
“Young I am,” I sing the final notes into my mic over Kronk’s shoulder who drums effortlessly the last notes.
As the rest of the band fades their notes as well our manager, Kirk, claps from the opposite side of our rehearsal space. Excited he rushes towards us. “That was incredible, Lex. That passion! That raw sex sound! Where did it come from? Where has it been?”
Slightly blushing I shake him off. “I always sing like that.”
“No you don’t,” he folds his arms against his light blue too tight shirt for someone that pudgy and that old. “That was different.”
“It really wasn’t.”
“It was Lex,” DeeDee, the girl on the keyboard smirks.
“It was amazing,” her girlfriend and backup vocals, Ciara, agrees.
Kirk speaks again, “Whatever caused it, keep it around.”
Don’t say anything. It wasn’t Tony or the fact he had me doing warm up vocal exercises that involved his name. I’m just having an extra good singing day!
“Whatever,” I shut my mic off.
“So there’s the show tonight. We have one next Saturday a couple hours away. The week after that we’re heading to New Orleans for a show. That’ll be our last show before we hop on the next leg of the tour.”
My heart lurches into my throat as an unfamiliar feeling drops in my stomach.
Kirk immediately notices, “You okay, Lix?”
“She’s just having a momentary lapse in judgment. She’ll be fine,” Kronk insists pulling me onto his lap, a protective big brother arm around my waist.
“Okay...” Kirk looks lost but moves past it. “It’s gonna be a good show tonight!” The rest of the band agrees and echoes his enthusiasm as they head out for some air before conducting one more run through.
When it’s just the two of us Kronk turns my body to face him. “Lex, I’ve been trying to tell you this from the start, so let me make it perfectly fucking clear now. You can’t keep him.”
Geez he’s making it sound like Tony’s a pony instead of a person. Though, I do ride him like I would a good stallion. Ha. Don’t make that face. You would too.
“Fun and game time is almost over. We’re getting on the bus in two weeks regardless of how you think you are suddenly in love now. We leave. Period. It’s gonna fucking suck, so I suggest you start distancing yourself now. Small Fry is cool enough to keep up the charade for the sake of your green card but—”
“It’s not a charade anymore, Kronk,” I push myself off his lap. “I really...I really...”
“You really what? Love him? You can’t even fucking say it, Lex.”
“Exactly. Like I said—”
“Why can’t I?”
“Because he’s never gonna be that guy you want. He’s not Clyde to your Bonnie. And you damn sure aren’t about to be pregnant and barefoot in anyone’s kitchen.”
“He’s not like that,” my voice tries to croak out.
“He is.” Kronk shrugs. “He wants a steady girl with two feet on the ground, to build a home and life with. Face it.” I open my mouth to argue when he points a stern finger at me, “Grow up and deal with it.” My mouth closes. “I suggest you start distancing yourself now before you end up at a crossroad neither of you are prepared to fucking deal with,” he drops his sticks on his stool and exits the room leaving me alone.
Running my fingers through my hair I shut my eyes tight.
I hate when he’s right. And I hate myself for letting him be right.
Chapter 14
Tony
After several hard knocks C.J. opens his front door with an irritated look on his face, “Bro. Patience unless you’re on fucking fire.”
His remark hits me unexpectedly and I hold my hands up in the air. “My bad, I didn’t realize I had knocked that many times.”
“You did,” he widens the door and motions his head for me to enter. “If you would’ve banged a little harder I would’ve figured you were a cop. What’s up?”
I go to answer when I notice Stuart hanging out on the couch. He gives me a slight wave and I toss my head at him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he answers back standing.
“You still coming to the show with us tonight?”
“That’s the plan,” he replies before saying to C.J. “About what we were discussing...”
“I’m fucking trying,” C.J. sounds even more frustrated than he did when he opened the door.
“I know.” Stuart nods backing up towards the door. “I appreciate it. I really do.”
C.J. nods and Stuarts exits. Turning my attention to his stressed out face and loose tie, I ask, “Bad day?”