"He needs to get his shit together and make his choice, and if that choice is to stay away, then he needs to stay away forever. You don't need this crap, Tess. Oh! Can I got kick him in the balls or tip his bike and slash the tires?"
I love drunken Erin. I can't help but laugh; she has got me so drunk I can't stop laughing. This is what I needed, to let loose and laugh. We nearly finish the tequila and half of the contents in the vodka bottle.
We lay on my bed, talking about hot celebrity guys, and flat out pass out.
I wake up with what I am going to believe what is a hangover. I will never, ever pick on someone who has a hangover ever again. Erin is still passed out beside me. I decide to cover my head and go back to sleep.
Next thing I know, it's nearly two in the afternoon. Erin jumps up out of my bed. "Shit! I am going to be late to work at the restaurant! Shit! Shit! My boss said that if I am late one more time or show up drunk again he is going to fire my sorry ass."
"What time do you need to be at work?" I look at my clock.
She throws on her shoes and grabs her jacket. "Like thirty minutes ago. I am sorry to just run out on you like this, Tess, but I need this job. I will call and check on you later, OK?"
"Yeah, I am fine. Go on, don't get fired!" I yell as she closes the door behind her. Now what?
Then it hits me. I texted Ben. I DRUNK texted Ben.
Oh no.
Coming back to me I fuzzily remember, Erin cheering me on, I remember her telling me to request a booty call. I don't know what I am going to say, but I feel the need to say something. So I log back into the Chatz chat room.
What did I say? I go on a mad dash for my phone. Opening up to the chat room I read:
Punky_Painter: "Ben"
That's all I seem to type out and he didn't reply. I think I am going to be sick.
Back to bed and to never come back out.
It's been nearly a week, and I have managed to keep my distance from Tess. I think it's for the best, considering how much of a letdown I am. Yeah, mum would be so proud of her son…
Then she texted me late last night, I wanted to call her. I wanted to go right over there and tell her how wrong she is and what she means to me. But I also think she needs time to heal and figure out things for herself. I just hope I have the self-restraint to let her…
The night of the Maroon 5 concert was the most amazing night of my life. I have had sex with a lot of women, I'll admit that, but none have been in my home, and none were remotely like Tess. I feel like an asshole for letting her trust me and to take something as special and private as her virginity, only to walk away. I did nothing but reinforce her doubts and fears. When I tried to contact her, she never replied. Then she texted me late last night, I wanted to call her. I wanted to go right over there and tell her how wrong she is and what she means to me. But I also think she needs time to heal and figure out things for herself. I just hope I have the self-restraint to let her…
Well, I did manage to get her photos off her camera that night while she was sleeping. Adam did say that he wanted to see them, so I e-mailed them to him directly and while I was at it, because they were amazing, truly amazing—even without any editing—I e-mailed them to the photo department at the magazine. She deserves to have her dream, even if I don't get to have mine with her. I also kept a copy of the photo we had taken with her. And I with the band...I just cropped those wankers out.
It's been one week since the second worst day of my life, but then maybe it was the worst, because I had feelings for my hero when he chose to leave that time. And to add insult to injury, my mom set up my follow-up appointment with Dr. Mitchell without telling me. So I am heading back the hospital. Oh, joy.
My mom begged to go with me, but I insisted that I was fine and wanted to just go in and get it over with. That, and I didn't want her in on the drama. I don't know if Dr. Mitchell will bring anything up about Ben, or keep it professional. I'm hoping for the latter.
My hand doesn't hurt as bad as it did a week ago, so that's a plus. But everything else hurts. Men like Ben don't change. He got what he wanted and he got out. I am hoping the doctor isn't in, or is on call at an emergency.
I pick at my cast and look around the soft blue room. The chairs are deep cherry wood with dark gray cushions. There's a waterfall cascading down a stone wall, which I am guessing are to calm me…Yeah, right that's so not going to happen.
The door next to the receptionist window opens and my name is called. A moment later, I'm in an exam room. It has the customary exam table, a table I never wanted to lay on again, not after the sort of exam I had to endure three years ago.
After that night, when the same doctor I am about to see now had reset my arm and bandaged my face, he suggested I get an internal exam because I was knocked unconscious and had no memory of what happened. So I agreed. I wanted to make sure that dick didn't get what he was so aggressively trying to take from me.
The nurse in front of me right now took my height, weight and blood pressure and my temperature. "Dr. Mitchell will be in a minute to see you, Ms. Martin."
Great, so he is here. What, no other young women saved by your amazing son? What a shame. Shit, what am I going to say if he brings up what happened? Does he know about everything? Does he know about me and Ben? I need to calm down before I have a panic attack. Just as I practice my calm breathing, I hear a light knock on the door.
"Hi, Tess, how are you?" He takes my right hand in a shake.
I return the gesture, with slight hesitation. His accent is just so familiar and I can now see and here where Ben gets it all from. "Hi, I am doing much better. My hand barely hurts, ready to get this bandaging off for good."
A moment later, I'm on the exam table He starts to cut my bandaging, but notices me cringing.
"Are you all right? Am I hurting you?" His voice is kind. It reminds me of how caring and compassionate Ben was our first night together...
"Uh, yeah, just didn't turn out so well the last time I had a sharp tool near my hand."
He laughs lightly and his smile truly reaches his eyes.
"So how bad of a scar are we talking about?" I ask.
Taking my hand to start cutting the threads, he begins. "Not too bad, my dear. Once these little buggers are out, you will start to see improvement shortly." Feeling relieved, I take in a deep cleansing breath. I just wish he could stitch up my heart.
"You and my son, are you dating? I know it's not exactly my place to ask..." I hold up my right hand to stop him.
"No, it's OK, I don't mind. Honestly I don't know what's going on with me and Ben."
He shows a small smile. "If you don't mind me saying, Tess, my son doesn't really 'date' as much as he 'entertains'. You seem like a very lovely and smart young woman, a young lady who would be good for my son. But I know how he goes through women, and I don't want to see that for you."
Wow. I have never met a father so honest about their own child, so honest and caring about someone else's child. I really like Jack. Ben is lucky to have such an awesome dad. "Thank you, Jack," I say. "I thought me and Ben had something, until we discovered that we knew one another in the not-so-pleasant past. When he brought me into the hospital that night, I didn't know who he was, I never saw a face. But it hurt me so bad to know that someone could just drop a beaten-up girl at the ER and just leave." I admit to him. I kind of hope he can voice some wise wisdom.
"My son, he had a tough adolescence. In London, he was expelled from three different schools for fights and a rotten attitude. He took the death of his mother very difficult; he was good at home and loved his baby sister, but outside he was a different person. He was shut off.
"When I was offered the job here and we moved to the States, I don't know… He just changed. He found his best mate and started a band. It was better than any therapy that he had ever received. Then he met Nicole in his senior year of high school, they were a good couple, even decided to go to college together. He was crazy about her and grad
uating college. And she cheats on him."
I nod, knowing parts of his story. "I know about Nicole and how they were supposed to get married. He also expressed his love for his mother and Caroline."
A warm smile spreads on his well-defined face. "Thank you, Tess. Just so you know, he doesn't tell anyone about his past or his family, he must have seen something special in you."
"Well, Jack, I see something special in him." And that's the last we speak of it. He finishes removing my stitches. It wasn't the most pleasant thing I have recently endured. But I'm happy to have them out.
It's still early and I have yet another day off work. I have enjoyed my time off to just paint, read and listen to music. I guess I became a hermit this week, but I enjoyed the company of my many book boyfriends. I feel pretty good so I just might try and go to my art class tonight. Depending on what we are doing, I might be able to participate.
I take a little nap before my evening class, but wake up an hour later hot and horny. This is new. I just woke up sweating and panting; even my panties are wet! Why am I like this? Oh. My dream.
Ben is in a band on stage. He is playing the bass and doing vocals, something you don't see much of; either it's the vocals alone or vocals and guitar. I am in the front row of a crowded bar room and there he is: tall, lean, muscles bulging in all the right spots. He's wearing nothing. Just his black and silver bass guitar, which is strategically covering his man parts. I feel like panicking. I don't want these other women to see him naked. He is for my eyes only. He is mine.
The other members of the band are fully clothed. Why is Ben the only naked one on the stage? He needs to get dressed; they can't see him. They start to play, his bass thumping, and I can feel its vibrations run up my calves, to my thighs and so on. Oh. He stares at me when he starts to sing, and his voice just about makes me come apart. I can't take my eyes off him. I know there are people all around me; they are starting to bounce around as the song begins to pick up pace. But I don't look at them. I keep my focus on the naked sex rock god in front of me on stage.
He stops singing actual lyrics and starts making moaning noises: the noises he made when we were making love. I don't want other people to hear those sounds. It's not right, it's private. He looks at me as he moans louder and he can tell I am upset. He looks to his right and left, to the other guys on stage with him, and nods for them to get lost. Now I am confused. He keeps strumming his bass, even though the rest of the band has left. He gives me his full panty-dropping smile when I nods in my direction. I look behind me to see what's going on and no one is in the room.
We are alone.
I cover my mouth in shock and appreciation, knowing now that no other women can see Ben. He is still strumming when he steps down off of the stage. Still strumming when he stops right in front of me, close enough to feel his hot sweet breath. I start to pant; I want this man more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I reach out to stop his fingers from gliding up and down the neck of the bass. I place my hand on the neck of the bass. I slowly and teasingly start to stroke it from top to bottom, his gaze never leaving mine. He licks his lips; obviously he is affected by my movement. I use my other hand to pick the strings of the bass, a slow and seductive beat, gradually increasing pace, just like my breathing.
When I look down, I am naked. Well, isn't that convenient? He takes the pick in his right hand and runs it from the tip of my chin, down my neck, over my chest and between my breasts. It gives me chills. I let go of his bass and lift the strap over his shoulder, removing the instrument from his body, revealing his amazing form. Dropping to his knees before me, he reaches for my left foot and lifts it slowly, allowing me to balance myself. He takes the pick and runs it from my heel, up my arch and to the tip of my big toe. This causes me to convulse, and the feeling strikes me between the thighs. Placing my foot back down, he does the same to my left foot.
He stands and walks back to the stage. I follow him and once he reaches the edge of the stage, he turns and stops. I put my hand on his chest and force him to sit on the edge of the stage. Sitting, he leans back and rests on his elbows, as if waiting for something. I straddle him and slowly lower myself onto his incredible length. His eyes widen in what I assume is surprise; I am shocked at myself for taking the lead. I don't move once I take him into me fully; I want to savor the amazing fullness of him. He doesn't move. I think he wants me to take control; and I want to. I want to take this man, and do whatever I want to please me. I start to lift slowly on my knees and until he almost comes out completely, then I slam back down on him. He groans loudly and holds my hips as he reclines all the way back until he is flat on his back.
Neither of us speaks. We are just two hot bodies and harsh breaths. He doesn't take his gaze off of me. I feel powerful and confident. I have never felt that way about my body or my sexual abilities. He doesn't seem to be complaining. I pick up my speed as he grips my hips hard. His touch just makes me want more.
Faster and harder, I ride him. Still no words. He sits up and grabs me around my waist; now we are sitting face to face. He holds the back of my head and starts to grind his hips to mine. I am on the verge of an explosive climax. And then the silent treatment ends.
"I love you, Tess."
And I wake up.
When I finally decide to crawl out of my bed late in the afternoon, I get a buzz on my intercom.
"Yeah?" I answer the buzz.
"Delivery for Miss Martin." I hear a young male's voice.
Thinking, I didn't order anything, hell I am going to have to ask my mom or James to help me out with rent this month. With all the lost time at work this past week. I don't like asking for help.
I tell him to come on up. When he reaches the door I am greeted with the largest most exquisite bouquet of pink peonies. I take them and the young man tells me to have a good day. I take my flowers back in and I notice a little blue envelope poking out, it reads: Punky.
I open the pale blue paper and pull out a photograph.
Oh. Oh, I am going to cry.
It's the photo from the concert, but it's just of me and Ben. I know I have the original picture, but how did he get this? We both look happy. I turn over the photo to see a message from Ben:
Tess,
If I could offer you a reason, any reason at all for what happened I would. I don't know how we went from what we were to nothing at all. I understand your hurt over what happened three years ago, but I was a different person then. I have changed considerably. You have changed me. I can only hope that one day you can forgive me, because I will never forgive myself for losing you.
You have my heart. Forever.
Ben
There is no way I can focus, and we now know what happens when I get distracted in art class… I don't want to face Ms. S just yet, not while she knows I was/am seeing her own boyfriend's son. How and when did this involve so many people? And besides I can't seem to find my sketchbook anywhere. Man, if I left it at Ben's…
I call Dave and see if the coffee shop needs an extra hand tonight. I need to occupy myself any way I can. If I don't I will go running to Ben and as much as I want to, I don't know what I would say.
"I am actually not working tonight, so I was planning on hitting up a club. Why don't you tag along with me?" I do need to get out, clear my head. Why not have a few drinks with my co-worker? It's not like he's asking me out on a date.
"Sure, why not," I say.
I can practically hear him smile. "Oh, this will be fun, baby doll! Why don't you meet me at Pearl at ten tonight."
I laugh at the nickname he gave me when we started working together two years ago. I can't believe we have never hung out. Now that I think about it, it's not like he hasn't tried. He often asked what I was doing after a shift, but I always told him I am not one to go out and party. I'm still not, but tonight I need to forget about Ben for a couple of hours. It's bad enough that he's invading my dreams now.
"Sounds great, Dave, see you then."
/> Now what to do with the rest of the day…
I grab my camera and head for Pike Place Market. I need some fresh fruit and that's the place to go. I love the feeling of the place, so real and full of life. You never know what you're going to find or see.
I snap shots of the rows of colorful produce, and of a young boy no older than three biting into an apple bigger than his hands. His eyes are wide with surprise; it's a perfect shot and it makes me giggle. The air is cool and crisp and feels amazing in my lungs. I just wander the market picking up apples, strawberries; eggplant, zucchini and bananas...damn bananas the shit heads remind me of Ben's first visit to my place.
Later, back home, I Google Pearl. It's not a gay club, but a swanky upbeat club that features up and coming DJs. Well, this should be interesting; I just hope it's not rap music, I just can't stand that stuff…bitches and hos just isn't my thing I guess… I decide on my black fake leather pants and a white tank top with my black studded leather jacket and my over-the-knee black boots. I refuse to be the kind of girl who shows up wearing a shiny tube top and mini skirt. I mean, that's what they wear in the movies, right?
At the club, I hear Dave call my name from the door.
He offers me an arm, like a gentleman, and leads me into the large space. We look down to the dance floor. Music thumps and lights shoot everywhere. Dave walks me around to one of the many bar areas.
"Swanky," I say.
Dave laughs and orders us drinks.
The blonde pinup delivers our drinks and gives Dave a wink. ha! If she only knew he was gay… I reach for my drink and take a sip through the small straw, without asking what it was. It's fruity and strong! Holy shit, is it strong!
I nearly spit it out. "What is this?" I ask.
"It's called a Zombie."
"I do like rum, but this"—I hold up my glass—"is insane."
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