I told myself right there not to fuck anything up.
But I knew that was impossible for me to do.
Josie moved with deadly precision as she took her shirt and bra off. Her body wiggling as she balanced on her elbows and then sat straight up. I wrapped an arm around her and held her steady as I moved in and out of her. while she took her shirt off. Before her shirt could hit the bedroom floor, my fingers opened the clasp of her bra.
I then eased her back down to the bed and kept going.
Our bodies colliding, the sound echoing around us.
I kissed her neck and moved down, needing her chest.
Her skin was warm, perfect, soft and tender, leading me to her left breast and nipple. Her nipple was like a button, tiny and hard. I moved my mouth over her breast and took her into my mouth. I pulled away with a wet kissing sound.
My hands were then flat against the bed as I stayed with Josie, loving every inch of her body, feeling her pleasure building and cresting, over and over. She pulsed against me, pulling at me, tempting me to let go. I was beyond ready to, but I kept going.
Josie touched the backs of my arms and pulled.
I bent my elbows and put the tip of my nose to hers.
I stayed there, not kissing her, leaving the moment torturous as we exchanged breathing groans.
Josie put her hands to my back and kept them there. She wrapped her legs around my body and squeezed, making us as close as possible.
Our eyes battling between flirting, fucking, and going deeper with emotion.
I broke our stare and buried my face into the curve of her neck. I kissed her harder. I let my teeth graze her skin. Josie groaned, and I did it again. I wanted her to groan. I wanted the moment to be about the feeling. The fucking feeling of our bodies…
My hands traveled back down the sides of her body and I slipped around to her ass. I held her there, lifting her hips just enough, right where I wanted them. I moved faster, harder, the sounds of us together becoming louder than our thoughts. Her sweet and warm skin becoming laced with sweeter sweat. The moment building up and up and up to a point where there was no way to stop.
Josie cried out louder, her hands sliding from my back to my ass. She tried to arch her back again, but I pressed my body harder against her. We battled each other, top to bottom, until she finally looked at me, her eyes wide, almost angry. Her lips trembled before we kissed each other. Our lips slamming together with force. She instantly groaned, messing up the kiss, but I kept going. The kiss so sloppy but so needed.
I felt her body clenching one more time as she peaked again, and I went along with her. Deep within her core, the wild urge of relief washing over me.
Now I was the one who stopped kissing Josie as I hissed. Her hips rocked in a perfect motion and she playfully bit at my bottom lip as our moment continued.
And it stayed that way as I began to move again. Slowly pulling myself back. Slowly pressing forward. Guiding myself inside her body. Stealing kisses when she wasn’t stealing kisses from me.
I rubbed the tip of my nose against the tip of hers.
Josie placed the pointer finger of her left hand to my lips and slid them down to my chin. She kept taking deep breaths. And I knew it wasn’t just because of what we had done.
I lowered down to her neck and tasted her skin again. I moved down as I pulled away from her body. As I crested over her right breast, I gently kissed her nipple, watching her skin shiver and tighten.
Then she started to laugh, rolling to her right side.
She made me smile. That was for damn sure.
She made me…
Josie rolled up in my bed sheets, her hair messy, her eyes flirty.
I forced a smile as my mind told a different narrative.
I warned you not to fall for me, love… I warned you…
23
THAT ONE PICTURE…
NOW
Josie
It was dark out when my eyes opened.
I had forgotten how nice it was to wake from a pleasure filled slumber. My body achy yet relaxed. Wearing nothing but the sheets on Crosby’s bed. My hair still a mess. The smell of my skin laced with the smell of Crosby’s.
My face flushed, and I bit my bottom lip as I thought about what he had done to me. That sense of passionate aggression, unlocking my desires that I had been keeping hidden for way too long.
There was no sign of Crosby though.
I moved from the bed and tracked down my clothing.
From under the floor I heard the soft sound of music.
A smile climbed across my face.
Crosby was all artist. Just like me.
Unable to function with normal hours and a normal life. Just coming and going with the need to create art when the moment decided to strike.
I really didn’t feel like getting dressed, so I opted to steal a t-shirt out of Crosby’s laundry basket. The top t-shirt was white and wrinkly. It had some logo and city on it. I wasn’t sure if that was a real city or just something thrown on a shirt. It smelled like him. A mix of man, smoke, and a hint of sweat.
I could have stood there all night, holding that shirt to my nose, acting as though it were a drug and I just wanted to stay high as a kite until the morning came.
Crosby was the first person who made me almost forget about things. The first person to show me a life beyond what I knew. And he wasn’t even trying to do it. That was the best part. Nothing was forced. And everything was raw.
My body shivered as I thought that last part.
… everything was raw…
The way we talked.
The way we acted.
The way we touched each other.
I let out a sigh and put his shirt on.
It covered up everything I needed it to cover. And there was easy access to anything Crosby desired.
My mind flashed images of him pinning me against his recording equipment, sliding his hands up my shirt, taking it off my body…
Damn, Josie, calm down for a second.
Downstairs, I watched as Crosby stood at his recording equipment. He was in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. To my surprise, his skin glistened with sweat. Through the speakers of his equipment there was a song playing. One I’d never heard before.
He stared intently at a computer screen, adjusting the song. One second, there was an echo and the next second, it was gone. Then the guitars got louder. Then softer. He kept changing and adjusting until he finally stepped back and listened.
Sensing my presence, he looked at me.
He stepped forward and the song died.
“You don’t have to stop because of me,” I said. “It sounds good.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said. “It will eventually. Something is missing.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Crosby wasn’t interested in answering my question though.
Instead, he took something off the table and started to walk toward me.
“You’re covered in sweat,” I said, pointing out the obvious observation.
“Yeah, I am,” he said.
“Why?”
“I worked out after… you fell asleep.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, but it faded quickly when I realized Crosby wasn’t being flirty or even smiling.
“You work out a lot,” I said.
“Yeah. I punish my body, Josie. That’s the truth. I punish myself.”
“Why?” I asked.
“This is why,” he said.
He handed me what he had on the table.
It was a folded piece of paper.
I opened it and saw it was a picture.
I looked up and Crosby was already walking away. Going toward the back door off the dining room. His hand shot out at the last second to grab a bottle of whiskey.
I looked down at the picture again.
My heart sank.
It was a picture of a smiling little boy.
“Your son?” I asked Crosby as I joined
him outside.
I put the folded up paper containing the picture on the railing and he put his hand over it.
“No, love,” he said. “Not my son.”
“Then who?”
He looked at me. “Nephew. Nicholas.”
“Nephew,” I said, swallowing hard. “Cindi’s son…”
“Yeah,” he said. “Coolest kid I ever met in my life. When Cindi found out she was pregnant she came to me first. She was terrified. Terrified of everything that came with it. Terrified to tell her husband.”
“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “He doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” I said. “You and Cindi had a falling out, obviously.”
“It wasn’t a falling out,” Crosby said. “It was what I did. Or didn’t do. Or couldn’t do.”
“Meaning what?”
“It’s the reason why I work out so much. Why I torture myself. Why I punish myself. My darkest and cruelest secret.”
Crosby took a drink out of the bottle and then placed it over the paper. He walked away from the railing and helped himself to a cigarette. He offered me one and I nodded.
This was a much different cigarette than what we were used to having together.
“I already told you I took care of Cindi a lot,” he said. “She was a pain in the ass as a kid. She would come out and bother me when I was trying to figure you out.”
I grinned. “I remember.”
“So, my life somehow comes full circle with you in it again. Not that I knew who you were back then. Just the pretty girl next door painting. Clinging to my memory.” He smiled quickly. “But anyway… I always took care of Cindi. I never liked her husband. He never liked me. He was rough and tough. A construction guy. That wasn’t me. I was the dreamer. Playing guitar. Writing songs. I would play anywhere and anytime. All I wanted to do was hit it big and take care of everyone. Especially when Nicholas was born. I could sort of see the writing on the wall with relationship with him and his father. Noah was a good dad in the beginning. A provider. But he didn’t have the fun edge. He was serious and then became too serious. Funny I say that now… look at me…”
“I saw you with Meadow,” I said. “I just knew…”
Crosby shook his head. “Please. Don’t. You have to know the entire story before you even think about sticking up for me.”
“Okay…”
“You might want to get changed, Josie. Be ready to run.”
“Run? You think I’m going to run out of here. Why?”
“Nicholas is dead,” Crosby said.
The air was crisp and calm. And so silent in that moment.
Those three words sucked all the oxygen out of the air too.
My eyes went wide, and my jaw dropped.
Crosby looked numb, his eyes fading to a place he was afraid to go near.
“And it’s my fault,” he added.
I didn’t say a word to the statement. The pain in Crosby’s eyes was real. So very real.
“What happened?” I asked in a whispering voice.
I hugged myself in between drags of my cigarette.
“I had been working on a song,” he said. “Just one more song and I was going to break things open. Really break things open. I had been playing set after set after set. The buzz was building. I was working with Jackie and he was pushing hard for me. There was an offer ready to slide across the table at me. All I needed was one more damn song. At that time, things had been really rough for Cindi. Noah really messed up his back and wasn’t working. He was starting to slip away from life and I couldn’t watch it anymore. Cindi had to take a job as a waitress to help with the bills. That became the only real source of income for them. And Nicholas was in the middle of it and had no clue what was happening. I spent as much time with him as I could. I took him places. I did things with him. I made a promise to Cindi when she got pregnant that I would always be there for her. And really, I wanted to sign a deal and give them some money. Believe me, I’m not saying that to be some kind of hero here, Josie. That’s the truth. I needed one song and I was going to take care of everything for them. Would it have fixed Noah’s back? No. Would it have taken away all of Cindi’s stress? No. But…”
Crosby lowered his head.
He ran a hand over his face.
I inched closer to him, not sure what he wanted or needed from me. I wanted to hug him. But maybe he needed me to slap him or get mad at him for what he felt he did wrong.
When Crosby looked at me again, his eyes were dry and fierce.
Anger.
Raw anger.
“Cindi got a call to go into work for a double shift,” he said. “She took every shift she could. They were behind on their mortgage. Noah’s medical bills were crazy. He kept insisting on going back to work. He’d work half a shift, bring home cash, and drink himself stupid. She asked if I would take Nicholas for the day. Without hesitation I told her I would. Really, I had been working on the song. And it was driving me crazy. I couldn’t get the right words and the right… whatever. I got lost in this song, Josie. So lost. Cindi had to call me to remind me to go and get Nicholas. I decided to take him to the lake.”
My heart sank.
I suggested going to the lake with Crosby. And he got mad…
“He loved to make sand castles. And play in the shallow water. It was the easiest place to take him. Nowhere to go and get lost. Always something to do. I had taken him there dozens of times. I used to stand on the dock and we’d play shark monster. He would be the monster and have to feed me to the shark in the water. So, he’d run up behind me while I was pretending to fish or take a picture or something. Then he’d push me into the water. I’d fall into the water and I would thrash my arms and pretend a shark was eating me.” Crosby cleared his throat and flicked his cigarette off the back porch. “I remember that day and how sad Cindi looked. She looked defeated. Broken by her life. And Nicholas was full of so much energy that day too. I should have just put everything aside and focused on him. Ran his ass up and down the shore of the lake. Or taken him over the roped off part where all the lily pads were. Try to look for frogs or fish. I think of this shit now and it just… it burns. It burns bad, Josie.”
I was close enough now to touch him.
But the moment my hand touched his shoulder, he pulled away.
“Instead, I got us set up and went to my notebook. We hung out and talked and played…” He looked at me. “I justified it. He said he wanted to go build a sand castle. So, I watched him work. I paced the towels I put down for us. I thought about the song. But I could see him. He was fine. Then I heard two people talking and something they said just sparked this idea in my head. The lyric came to me. This line. This… so I hurried to get my notebook and started writing. And the writing was fresh. It was good. Really good. I got lost in it. How long? I’m still not sure. But it was long enough that Nicholas decided to go on the dock alone.”
The story started to sink into my gut and I stepped back.
Crosby caught his breath and stared into the night.
“He leaned forward, and I guess he fell right into the water. My back was to the lake. Nobody saw him at first. I guess he was kicking and punching, trying… trying to swim… And by the time someone realized there was a little kid in the water like that, he was way out in the lake. The second I realized it was Nicholas, I ran towards the water. My brain didn’t even think about the dock. I could have run along the dock and jumped into the water. That distance…” Crosby shut his eyes. He took another breath. “I ran into the water and started to swim. I moved like I’d never moved in my life. There wasn’t a time in my life when I cared about exercise. Or being fit. Or any of that stuff. But the harder I swam, the more my lungs burned, the more my arms and legs hurt… there was just so much distance between us. I would go under the water and swim, screaming in the water as I did so. I would pop up and see him. Then he would be gone. Then he would appear again. But there was no…” Crosby looked at
me. “I couldn’t get to him in time, Josie. I couldn’t save him.”
I touched Crosby again and he quickly shook me away again.
He walked to the edge of the back porch and I stayed behind.
“Everything after that went dark for a little while,” he said. “There was nothing I could do or say to fix what happened. It just played through my head over and over. I had to make the phone call to Cindi. To call my own sister and tell her that her son… she was at work and she trusted me…”
“Accidents happen,” I said.
Crosby turned his head. “No. Not like this. If I wasn’t so fucking lost in that song, I would have seen him walk from the shore to the dock. He wouldn’t have put a foot on that dock before I called his name to tell him no. Instead, he just walked along the dock like it was nothing. Besides that… I couldn’t get to him. I was too late. Too slow.”
He stared forward again.
His silence let the story sink into my heart a little more.
And it started to make sense.
I took small steps toward him. I slowly reached out with my right hand and touched his back. His muscles tightened but he didn’t push me away.
“That’s why I do what I do, Josie,” he said in a soft, broken-hearted voice. “I run as fast as I can. I set a timer when I run. I have to get to a certain point. If I can do that… I imagine myself saving him. But I can never save him. There’s no second chance.”
“You punish yourself, Crosby,” I whispered. “And I understand why. It doesn’t make you a bad person for what happened.”
“Of course it does. I took the one thing my sister had. It hurt her marriage more than anything else possibly could. I lived up to what others saw me as. And because of that, I walked away from everything.”
“You don’t have to walk away anymore, Crosby. Or run. I’m here. I’m not going to go anywhere either. Not because of what you just told me.”
He slowly turned to face me. Standing tall, thick with muscle that came with a tragic story, his eyes staring down at mine, leaving me shivering. Still holding himself together, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.
Getting Over You Page 17