by Mj Fields
“That’s a lot of tweeting.” She giggles.
I smile back. “That’s a lot of exposure for them.”
“Agreed. I know Memphis and Billy will. Not sure if we can get the other two to follow suit.” She smiles a sweet smile.
“I think, if Finn will, then River will, too.”
“You think?”
“Just a hunch. They seem close.”
“It’s all new to me,” she admits.
I start to apologize for our initial meeting. “Tally, I am really sorry about—”
“Me, too. I’m really not a purse-napper, but—”
“I was threatening to expose something. I didn’t even know what it was. I just knew what it could do for me, and I needed the money. I was only thinking of myself. I promise you that’s not who I am.”
“His past is his past. His today and his future are with me,” she says. “I really hope we can be friends.”
I look up to see Finn, and behind him is the rest of the band.
“We’re set.”
Tally reaches out and squeezes my hand, then looks at Memphis. “We need your help.”
“I’ll help you out anytime,” he replies, looking her over, “anyplace.”
“Good to know.” She laughs. “Finn, Billy, and River, we need you on board, too.”
“Anytime, anyplace, baby,” River says.
“I will fucking wreck you, little drummer boy,” Memphis growls at him, which makes me laugh.
“You, too, Sonya,” River continues. “I will help you out. Just give me the word. The road can be a lonely place and I—”
“What do you need?” Finn’s voice booms.
I look at him. “Selfies.” I cringe when I say it.
“You’re fucking with me, right?” he grumbles.
“Do we get those sticks?” River jokes.
“Selfie-stick, not gonna happen,” Memphis says.
“We don’t have them. Just use your big, strong arms.” Tally grins.
Memphis grins back. “You trying to make me har—”
Her hand covers his mouth. “Shut your lips, Memphis Black.”
“She said shut your lips, Memphis Black, all sassy and badass like,” River says with a finger snap. “You go, Tales.”
“Y’all ready for this?” I look back to see Jonas walking toward us.
“Sonya?” Finn grabs my elbow. “A minute?”
“Sure,” I say, and he guides me a few steps away. He lets go of my elbow and raises his shades. “I promise it will be worth the effort, Finn.”
“He hugs you again, and the whole fucking place is gonna know who you were under yesterday and who held you all night,” he grumbles. “He puts his mouth on you, and I will be in lockdown. I know shit went a different direction last night, but I’m telling you right now—”
“Shh,” I say, nervous as hell someone is going to hear him.
“Shh?” He looks like I am out of my mind. “Shh? Ain’t gonna work.”
“Everything all right over here?” Jonas asks, walking up to us.
“Yep, everything is great. Finn’s just saying how excited he is about meeting the bands,” I tell him, positioning myself between the hot rocker and very nice-looking manager of the club.
“Sonya …” Finn’s voice carries a warning.
“Jonas, I think we’re all set. How about you open up those doors?”
He nods and walks away, eyeing Finn over his shoulder.
I turn around and look up at him.
“Excited about selfies?” he grumbles. “That motherfuck—”
“Are you clean?” I ask, trying to get his attention.
“That man wants to fuck you,” he hisses, still looking in the direction Jonas walked.
“Do you get tested?” I ask a little louder, and he looks at me.
“I wrap my cock every damn time and get tested every six months, have for years. Why?”
“I’m on the pill.”
His eyes darken as his jaw tenses.
“I don’t want to sleep with him, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to sleep with me.”
“Sonya, that man has an itty, bitty hard-on for you.”
“How the hell would you know that?” I can’t help laughing.
“I can tell. Fucking hugger.” He leans in and whispers, “What’s this about the pill?”
“If I’m the only one under you, you’re the only one over me.”
“Then I’m gonna fuck you raw tonight, skin to skin. And I’m gonna—”
“Sounds good, but only if you embrace the selfie,” I whisper back.
“Either way.”
“Nope.”
“You’ll be begging. You’ll want me so badly you’ll be weeping between your thighs for me.”
“Finn”—I feel an excitement burning deep inside—“selfies first.”
I gather up all the strength I have and turn to walk away from the first man in my life who made me hate him before ever meeting him and then made me feel beautiful, sexy, and wanted like never before.
I feel his breath hit the back of my neck. “I’m gonna make you pay for teasing my cock in public.”
I look over my shoulder. “Selfies first. And, Finn? Make me jealous and give the world what they want: a hot, sexy, broody bass guitarist with a voice that makes every woman in the crowd weep between their thighs.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m on the pill, and for some reason, I trust and believe you.”
***
At seven o’clock, I stand in the center of a room alone. We ate dinner together after the auditions, and then everyone seemed exhausted.
Nick DeAngelo said he would share with Finn, and I could have my own room. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.
Finn walked away during the discussion. I couldn’t tell if he was okay with it or not. He just walked out the front doors, I assume to have a smoke.
I sat in my bed and called Noah. Hearing his voice made me happy. Saying goodnight didn’t. I miss him more now than ever before. I suppose Finn knowing about him helped. I don’t like to hide him, although I assume some would see it differently.
My aunt is the only person who encouraged me to keep him. Everyone else thought it would be better for me not to. I couldn’t move past being abused by the man who got me pregnant.
After showering and towel drying my hair, I look in the mirror and see myself for the first time in a long time. My hair is long and ragged. I put it in a bun every day because I can’t do anything else with it, and the wash-in color is fading.
I long to see me again.
My childhood wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. I was raised by a woman who had no interest in being a parent. She just liked to display me. I was very well behaved and never gave anyone a problem. I was safe, warm, fed, and clean. I had it so much better than some.
I was happy once. I want that back again.
***
I get off the elevator on my floor with a drug store bag in my hand. I walk down the hall and see Finn at my door with security opening it for him.
I walk faster, not wanting to yell down the hall and disrupt any of the other guests. When I get to the door, it closes in my face. I fumble through my purse for my room key and use it to open the door.
When I walk in, Finn is sitting on the edge of my bed with his hands in his hair, and the security guard looks to be ready to make a phone call.
“Everything okay?” I ask, hoping not to startle them.
He sighs and shakes his head as he stands.
“A worried friend,” the hotel security says as he pats him on the shoulder. “You all set?”
“Yes, thank you,” Finn says as he walks to the door and opens it for him. “It won’t happen again.”
When he turns around, he shakes his head at me, looking angry.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I take my coat off and place it over the desk chair.
“What’s wrong?” he bites o
ut then stops himself, inhaling deeply. “You were gone.”
“Just to the store. Was I needed for something? Is River okay?”
“Jesus H, Sonya. You aren’t in our room. I sneak out like some fucking teenager to find you, and you’re not here. I went to see if maybe you and Tally were together, then to Billy and River’s room, hoping I didn’t find you there.”
“Why would I be in their room?”
“Why would you be out shopping at”—he looks at his phone—“nine o’clock at night?”
“Do I have a curfew?”
“There are bad fucking people in this world, bad people who may try to—”
“This is because of my … past?” Already, things are changing.
“No!” he says like a child who got caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Finn,” I sigh. “I just needed—”
“Then you call me. You call Tally. You don’t fucking go alone; you understand me? You don’t go alone.”
He starts to pace, and I step in front of him. “I’m not made of glass. I am not going to live my life in fear of—”
“Someone who is still out there, Sonya. Someone who doesn’t deserve to be breathing,” he snaps. “I wanted to kill the fucker when I saw him on the damn news, and now, I not only want to, but I swear to God, if I ever see his face again, I will rip him to shreds. I will kill him. Do you understand me?”
I look at him, recognizing the look on his face. I understand the behavior.
“You watched the video.”
He walks past me and paces again. “Promise me you won’t ever do that shit again.”
“Did you watch the video, Finn?” I ask more loudly.
The look in his eye tells me he did. He promised he wouldn’t, and he did.
“I’m tired and need to go to sleep. I will see you in the morning meeting,” I say, walking to the door and opening it.
He stands in the same spot.
“Finn, I’m very tired.”
“I want your number. You take mine. Be pissed all you want at me, kick me out of your room, call me a fucking asshole, but I want your damn number and a promise you’ll use it if you leave here again.”
“A promise like you made?”
“I needed to see it again.” He walks to me and takes my phone from my hand, then sends himself a message. “Ask me to stay.”
I shake my head.
“I’m sorry. I just had to see it.”
“And I’m sorry. I just need to be able to forget it.”
I shut the door slowly as he walks backward, looking at me with pity in his eyes.
I have had a lifetime of people looking at me the way he is. It took years to get over it, years of trying my best to make myself feel strong, whole again. That one look would either push me back into the corner or make me fight for the girl I was and the woman I am becoming.
Half an hour later, I stand in the bathroom on a white towel in my bra and panties with a towel draped around me. I put my hair in a ponytail, ensuring it is combed back perfectly and snug in place. Then I lift it up with one hand and grab the scissors I bought in my other hand, take a deep breath, place them four inches up from the bottom, and close my eyes as I cut through the thick, frizzy ends of my wavy hair. When I open my eyes, I smile then laugh.
I hear a loud knock at the door, grab the terrycloth robe off the back of the bathroom door, and walk to the door. Looking through the peephole, I see him standing there with his head hung low.
I open the door a crack and look out. “Everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “A man only has his word, and I fucked up. I fucked up bad, and I need you to tell me you forgive me.”
“I forgive you.”
“You need to mean it, Sonya.”
“Are you high?”
“No. No, I’m not. I’m a man who needs to undo something he did, so tell me you mean it.”
I look in his eyes. The muck hasn’t returned, but they are wild and regretful.
“Okay. I mean it.”
“Thank you.”
I expect him to walk away, but he doesn’t. His eyes are glued to mine. I not only see the emotions, but I feel them.
“Is there something else?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m a fucking idiot, and I don’t know a damn thing about how this shit works.” He pulls his hand up so I can see what’s in it. “I bought flowers, and I know how fucking stupid and desperate it looks and sounds, but well, I’m fucking stupid and desperate, and I’m sorry I watched the fucking thing. I needed to see him again. I needed to see him because I swear to you—”
“The flowers are beautiful, Finn, but I really wish you didn’t need to see him again, because if I could have one prayer answered in my lifetime, it would be that I never, ever saw him or heard mention of him again.”
“You need to really forgive me.”
“Done.”
“You also need to let me in so I can give you these fucking flowers, because if Nick sees them and thinks they’re for him, it’ll be your fault.”
“Mine?”
“Yeah, Sonya, all yours.”
“Would you forgive me?” I ask, hoping this connection—this pull I feel—goes both ways.
“I would, and I’m a mean and unforgiving son of a bitch. But you, yeah, I’d forgive you anything.”
“If I let you in, will you promise me something?” I ask.
“As long as that something isn’t that I leave as soon as I hand you these things.”
“I won’t, but anything else I ask, you have to say yes.”
“Deal.”
I close the door and unhook the safety bar. Then I open the door and step back.
He walks in and looks at me, cocking his head to the side and studying me. “Something’s different.” He takes my hand, lifts it up, and turns me. “You get a haircut while you were out?”
“No, I bought scissors and cut my hair.”
“No way.” He turns me back around and then hands me the flowers.
“Way,” I say, trying to remain calm, but I am incredibly happy right now. Finn gave me flowers. No one has ever given me flowers.
I hold them close to my face and take in a deep breath, smelling them. “They are beautiful, and they smell so good.” I smell them again, closing my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I look up to see him smiling. Not just his lips, his eyes, his face his whole self is smiling, as if he’s the one who just got flowers for the first time.
“Thank you,” I say again.
“You already said that.” He nods. “Now, what is it that I promised to do?”
I walk into him and hug him tightly.
“I like where this is headed.”
I laugh and pull back. “It’s headed to the bathroom.”
He smirks. “Even better.”
“It’s so not going to be sexy.”
“Will I be in there alone?” he asks.
“Nope.”
“With you?” He leans down, slowly moving closer to my lips.
“You can’t change my mind,” I say and instantly feel like it’s unconvincing. God, he is sexy, so sexy.
“I won’t break another promise, Sonya. I won’t.” Sincerity and shame coat his voice.
I push myself up on my tiptoes and kiss him quickly then immediately step back. “Follow me.”
I stand in front of the mirror then see him, walking in behind me through the mirror’s reflection.
He looks at me, giving me chills. I need to focus on the task at hand.
“You agreed to help me color my hair.”
He looks at me again like I’m nuts. “I need to tell you that I am absolutely not qualified to do something like that.”
“I’ve done it a hundred times. You just have to help me, or you’ll have to leave so I can get it done. I’m not changing my mind. I want to go back to my natural color. It’s been a long time since I have wanted t
hat.”
“Then I’m your guy. I want you to have every damn thing you want.”
“I’m strong, Finn. I’m strong. And even though you don’t want to revisit the past”—I scowl down as I open the box of color and pull out the contents—“I sometimes need the reminder that I am—”
“Strong.” He pulls my hair to the side and kisses my neck.
“Can’t do that, either.” I squirm inside.
“Wouldn’t think of doing that again,” he says sarcastically. “Tell me where I’m needed.”
I look up to see him standing at least six inches taller than I am, and he’s so broad I look far less than a strong, independent woman. I look like a child compared to him.
“Gloves,” I say, forcing myself to look away. “I’m gonna comb this through, and then you are going to help me make sure I don’t miss any spots in the back. I want the red gone. I want me back.”
“Let’s do it.” His words are enthusiastic, but his tone is something entirely different.
“Yes, let’s.”
I cut the tip off, put on one of the sets of gloves, shake the colors together, and then section my hair in four parts with a comb while he watches me,.
“Grab the other gloves and help me rub it in?”
“I hope to hell you know what you’re doing ’cause I have never done shit like this,” he says, pulling on the gloves. He looks at them, then at me before I see him in the mirror shaking his head and rolling his eyes, “I thought we were done with gloves. I must have fucked up pretty bad, huh?”
I smile. “No. I just need to do this first.”
His eyebrows rise and his lips purse together for a second. “Good to know.”
“Why? Did you think I would chance you threatening to call room service for condoms again?” I smile as I begin squirting the dye in my hair.
“I would have, you know,” he says seriously.
“Yeah, I was kind of afraid of that.” I rub the dye around.
“Am I just watching, Sonya, or you gonna let me get some use out of these gloves?”
“Dive in,” I tease.
“She’s trying to kill me,” he whispers into the air as he begins massaging my hair with his hand. Then he looks at me, cringes, and shakes his head.