by Unknown
Paula’s mouth hung open. “Oh. Wow.”
I jogged my eyebrows up. “Yeah.”
She twitched her mouth side to side. “Okay. Another great reason. What do you think? Chinese symbol?”
“I think I have nothing to commemorate, Paula. That’s what I think.”
“You know what, Liv? I’m done. Either spit it out and tell me what the hell is going on with you or go back to the silent treatment. As far as I can tell, you have zero to pout about.”
“Zero? Are you kidding me? You seem to be forgetting that my particular bent of this curse needs love. And that love will eventually enslave the person I love. So, I have to go in every time knowing I will have to hurt them. I will have to leave. I don’t want to love Justin. And him about to be famous only makes it that much clearer.”
“That’s completely insane. Why does his occupation have anything to do with it?”
“Because it reminds me of Jimi and when he first turned me. The chaos, the celebrity lifestyle. I hated it. I don’t want to be under a public microscope because I’m with him.”
“That was Jimi, and being the head incubus doesn’t equate to being a rock star, Liv. Try again. It’s that he isn’t safe. Remember Seth? Remember how scared you were to care about Seth? And then you end up breaking his heart, anyway.”
“This isn’t like with Seth, alright? And Seth will be okay. Seth will land back on his feet. His humiliation factor is nothing compared to someone who will be world famous.” I crossed my arms. “Get it?”
Paula shut her mouth for a moment. “I get that you’re scared. But when you allow yourself to really figure out why, I think you’ll see that a song on the radio has nothing to do with it.” She rolled down her window. The wind whipped my hair around. “You should have seen the way he looked at you. Justin’s nuts about you. Alejandro said real love is rare. What most of us experience is infatuation, chemicals that feel a lot like love.”
But aren’t. Reaffirming as it was of my own theory or not, her sleeping with Dr. Santos—Alejandro—diminished his already shaky credibility in my eyes. Shouldn’t matter. Paula’s needs were just as important as mine and who cared who fed her, right? “Real love takes time. I don’t even know Justin’s middle name. That’s how much conversation we’ve had. That’s not love.”
She sighed heavily. “Well, seeing Seth again won’t help matters. I think it’s a bad idea, Liv.”
Said the expert of bad ideas. “Yes, well, I’m going to see Seth, anyway.” My heart ached and my craving for more Justin would soon set its claws in me. “I know how to be careful.” With my lust, as well as with Seth’s heart.
Rainbow strobes and black lights lit the bowling lanes. Eighties rock music pumped out the speakers. I hummed along to “Cherry Pie” by Warrant, filtering above the ring of pins and balls and gutter. I remembered carefree days from when foreplay tactics and ruling the dating game didn’t dictate my life.
Spotting a sliver of normal lighting, I headed to the bar where Seth agreed to meet me, missing Justin more than words could say. He hadn’t called. Ten long days and nights and he hadn’t called me.
Of course, neither had I. I’d googled him, youtubed him, found out his last name. Sharpe. My lust remained in content lassitude from our last encounter. My heart did not. It worried.
I spotted Seth right away. His smile sent a ripple down my belly.
He stood from the stool and embraced me into a bear hug. How could Alejandro claim I’d never loved before? Even now, Seth made my chest squeeze in adoration.
Not like Justin did. Nothing like he did, really, but everyone I loved affected me differently. Even Paula had admitted as much once she stopped insisting Alejandro was right.
“You look amazing,” Seth said, releasing me so I could join him at the bar.
We ordered beers. “How’ve you been?” I took in the familiar features of his face. He looked pretty amazing, too.
“Good, actually. Don’t take this wrong, but being single has been good for me.”
“It shows. And don’t worry, I’m not insulted.”
He grinned sheepishly.
“Hurt. Wronged. But, not insulted.”
He chuckled. “So, what’s new? Or should I say, who?”
My chest panged. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You aren’t the kind of girl who stays single for long, Liv.”
“I’m not?” I took a swig off my beer, batting my eyelashes. “Okay, okay. So, I’m not.” But I didn’t think he really wanted to know. And to be honest, I wasn’t certain what the answer was. I’d taken to a wait and see as to how violently my body ended up needing Justin.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to actually tell me.” He winked at me. “I can see whoever he is, he’s giving you something I never could.”
“Seth, you gave me plenty.” Reliable, consistent attention I wished I could still count on.
“I know. I’m not saying anything like that.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. His hands glowed in amber.
That look, that glow, reminded me of when we first met. Which reminded me of how he kissed. Seth was an outstanding kisser. I uncrossed my legs, leaned forward to give him a better look down my shirt. “Hey, want to see my tattoo?”
“Tattoo? Sure.”
I stood up, teased my jeans open and revealed the newly inked butterfly on my hip. Seth traced a finger over the pink and violet wings.
“Very sexy,” he said. He took his hand away fast. As though touching me burned.
I let my hands linger at my zipper, drawing his eyes to my fuchsia lace panties. He tore his gaze away. Disappointed, despite knowing I couldn’t take any flirting far, I sat back down. “It was Paula’s idea. Symbolizes metamorphosis.”
He picked at the label on his bottle. “Not flitting away?”
I winced. “That bad, huh?”
“No. Not bad. Just you being you. You know, from the very start, every day seemed like you were preparing yourself to tell me goodbye. When it finally came….”
“I’m sorry, Seth,” I said, hating what I was. How could I do this to Justin? Justin who did wild things to my heart like no one ever had. Justin, who I wanted to call. Who I wanted banging down my door, demanding I choose him, forcing me to risk it all.
Why was he leaving it up to me?
“Hey, none of that. That’s not why I asked you out.” He socked me softly in the shoulder.
I gulped back the ache. “Oh? Why then? Hard up?” I couldn’t not flirt.
“No.” His eyes met mine and I saw it before he said it. “I met someone.”
My mouth opened, but I didn’t quite have the words. “Wow. That’s…that’s….”
“Fast. I know. But she’s incredible. And if it’s weird that I’m telling you, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to run into us or hear something third-hand. I guess I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“No, yeah, sure. It’s wonderful, Seth. I’m happy for you. And thank you for telling me. I mean, I wish it could have been me, but I’m also glad that we can not hate each other, too.”
“Exactly.” His smile glowed almost as much as his eyes. “I never believed in that kind of thing. How can you meet someone new, and suddenly be so happy, right in the middle of a broken heart? No offense.”
“None taken.” It hurt nonetheless. Yet, I was honestly happy for him, too. I suddenly, intensely wished I’d rolled the dice and told Justin everything. I wished I’d told him I loved him. I wished I hadn’t run. “So,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “When do I get to meet her?”
Chapter Eleven
I tossed my cell phone onto the Hobby Lobby break room table and put my hands on my face. Justin’s phone number no longer worked. My heart swam in misery, I retrieved the phone, dialed it a tenth time to prove it to myself. Yep. Bad number. At some point in my remaining ten minutes of break, Opal gave my back a small rub and said something about this, too, passing. This, too, would not pass. I needed him.
&n
bsp; I loved him.
And I had no clue as to how to get a hold of him. Yellow pages had no rock star listing. Paula suggested I leave a comment on his MySpace. I’d settled for a not-so-easy-to-write email message. He’d yet to reply or call as I’d nearly begged him to.
I should have spelled it out in the email. But telling someone about love didn’t belong online. Not for the first time. Not when they might balk. But how would I get to him in person? The Java Jungle manager had no information. Neither did any Santa Fe radio station.
A part of me had started wondering if he existed. If it all hadn’t just been a dream. Then, in the middle of ringing up four bundles of yarn and a new set of knitting needles, my craving had awakened. No doubt remained. He was the one that I wanted. And I might die a slow painful death trying to get what I wanted. Beautiful.
“Liv, honey, why don’t you take off early today,” Vera said, two hours later, likely noticing the heavy sweat I had to keep mopping off my forehead. She gently took the candles I’d been stocking from my hands. “You look beat.”
I almost refused. Home held nothing but more anxiety, more waiting. More wondering how I could find him and if I had lost him.
Paula ended her phone call with a smooch sound as I trudged in our apartment door, wet from the rain and exhausted.
“Guess who that was,” she said, beaming.
Though I knew she couldn’t mean who I hoped, and pretty much anyone could earn such a reaction from her, my stomach jumped in hope. I tugged off my jacket. “Justin?”
She had the grace to lower her enthusiasm one notch. “No. I’m sorry. But, almost as good.”
I slumped into the sofa and kicked off my shoes. My polo shirt itched my skin. I ran my hands over my face. They smelled like wax. “Who?” I finally asked.
“Seth!”
I wrinkled my forehead up. “Why is Seth calling you and how is that anywhere near as good?” Did she really have no idea what I was going through after all the tailspins she’d been through?
Paula scooted up next to me. Love in her eyes, she tucked a tendril of my hair behind my ear. “Liv, I hate seeing you suffer. You know that, don’t you?”
Tears welled in my eyes. I nodded and when she held out her arms, I fell into them. What I thought would be a heavy sigh, came out a sob. A deep, heaving one. Snot and sorrow all at once. “It’s bad, Paula. You were right. I was scared. I was scared he’d reject me. I was scared of losing control. Now, I’m royally screwed.”
“Shh. Listen. It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t. It will hurt more and more and even if I find someone who can feed me, even if I go scrounging through the sexual garbage out there to satisfy my need, I can feel it that I will always want him. Nothing will sate my lust for him, except him. And then there’s my heart.” I leaned back, holding my chest, trying to show her how much I ached. “My frickin’ heart feels hollowed out with a dull spoon. Like the rind is all that’s left. I want my heart back.”
Tears shone in Paula’s eyes, too. She smiled at me. I was sure she didn’t get it. Or didn’t care. I stood up, dizzy.
“Seth’s coming over. It was supposed to be a surprise. That’s why he called me. So, act surprised.”
“He can’t feed me, anymore. It won’t work.” I groaned my way to the bathroom. I wiped my nose with quilted toilet paper. “Call him back. Tell him not today.”
“Sorry. Can’t. He’s pulling up now.”
“Paula! What is this? Can’t you see what a freaking mess I am?” I snagged the apron I’d accidentally worn home in emphasis. “I have been there for you. I’ve wiped the puke and snot up and you call my ex?”
She giggled. “You’re a total mess and I’m so sorry I’m laughing. It’s just really hard not to be happy for you when I know it’s about to end.”
“It’s not going to end. It’s going to get worse. I can’t go back to Seth, Paula. My hunger no longer wants him. Which is good because I was this close to turning him into a brainless drooling lapdog. And he met someone. So, whatever relief you think you’ve orchestrated on my behalf is actually a bomb about to blow. Get it?”
She covered her mouth. She was laughing that hard?
“This isn’t funny!”
The sound of a solid fist on our apartment door almost sent me into hysterics. The throw-the-dishes-against-the-wall or strangle-your-best-friend kind. I exhaled out my nostrils, adrenaline roaring through me. “I am not answering that. Fix it.”
“Come in,” Paula called.
Seth walked in, wet from the rain. I stood halfway to my bedroom, steaming mad.
“Hey, I can’t stay long. Joy’s running late for her second shift and I’m her ride.”
“Of course,” Paula said and grabbed what he’d handed her. “Thanks.”
“See ya.” And he was gone as quickly as he’d come.
Relief that I’d assumed wrong warred, stupidly, with disappointment. “I don’t understand,” I said, feeling like Paula’s beaming face should make some kind of sense. “What’d he give you?”
She popped her hand open and let the badge fall, dangling from a long band strung around two fingers. “I had a hunch Seth could hook me up with a pass.”
A backstage pass? “How?”
“That open mic night, leading to another, leading to networking, leading to whatever. I was wrong, though. Seth’s poetry apparently doesn’t garner connections per se.”
“Then how?” I approached the pass cautiously. I let it lay on my palm and read the less than artistic text. The name my mind and body yearned for.
“Justin Sharpe.” Right below “John Mayer.”
I let it drop. “I can’t,” I said, shaking my head.
“You have to,” Paula said, shoving the thing at me. “You love him.”
“I hardly know him.”
“Fine. You could love him.”
“How will he forgive me? I walked away. He’d wanted me to stay, he’d wanted to see how far it would go, and I walked out on him.”
“Would you rather find someone new?” She tossed me the badge.
I automatically caught it, along with my breath over the very idea of never seeing him again. I’d vowed if there was the remotest chance, I’d take it. I’d prayed for this opportunity. “When’s the show?”
“Now, and it’s one night only.” Paula grabbed a pile from the couch that I hadn’t noticed in my misery. “Here. Jeans, sweater. Your boots are by the door. The cab will be here any minute. Well, don’t just stand there, Liv!”
Her screech got me moving and the twenty-minute cab ride raced by. Before I let myself think too much, I tipped the cabbie and headed for The Hard Rock’s, “The Joint.” I got stopped at the box office. No ticket—no show. “But, I have a backstage pass.”
“Then you can wait backstage.”
While I’d never been a groupie, back in my headbanger and eyeliner days, I knew one when I saw one—or thirty. Either that or I’d been led behind stage at a New York runway show. I was overdressed. Particularly in the belly and thigh areas. Fuck me.
And back stage apparently did not mean behind stage. I barely heard music over the chatter. Or the hissing stares. Apparently runway model music fans ran in packs of two and three and had a two silicone-job minimum.
I wished I had one of my skirts on. Damn it. Paula should have dressed me better. Now what? Pick off the picked fruit plate? I squared my shoulders and cocked a hip out as though I owned the narrow room. I told myself the worst that could happen was he’d choose one of these women instead of me. I’d hate it, I would probably beg and try to take what I needed, but might understand.
“Liv?”
I spun on one heel. Christ, he looked good. Glistening from a sheen of perspiration on his face, filling my mind with memories of his sweaty body flexed over mine. Sweat my mouth remembered the taste of. I swallowed. “Hi.”
His gaze remained guarded. “What are you doing here?”
The clutch of women seemed to swell
toward us. My whole being purred at the nearness of him. It just needed a moment or two alone with him. My mind clamored, fighting back the lust. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” I’d keep hands off. I had to if I wanted more than a last, quick fix.
A long-legged, tawny blonde emerged from a nearby cluster and draped an arm around Justin’s waist. “Amazing show, Justin. You killed it. Who’s this?”
“This is Liv,” he said. His eyes were unreadable and all I could look at was his luscious mouth, anyway.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. She held out a limp hand. I shook it. “I’m Stella,” she said, then turned to Justin. “You ready?”
He pushed his attention her way. “Uh, yeah.” He faced me again, the intensity in his eyes making me forget to breathe. “We have this thing. The press.” He thumbed the direction of the exit, then slowly left for it, Stella pulling him by the hand.
I’d barely managed a nod and couldn’t manage a single coherent thought outside of “no.” They reached the door. My panic kicked into overdrive. I hardly saw the smirks surrounding me and what I did notice, didn’t affect me.
Finding my breath and voice, I rushed after him. “Justin, I was wrong.”
He turned at the door. He looked at me. After mumbling something to Stella, he met me halfway. “Liv, what are you trying to say?”
“I was wrong,” I said. “I should have stayed.” My heart slammed in my chest. “I was scared. Scared of how I feel about you. Scared of what that means, of how much I could get hurt.”
He looked down. My lust shifted higher. My eyes involuntarily darted to his hands, his mouth, his shoulders, his groin. Memories flashed unbidden. His plump cock in my mouth. His head thrown back in ecstasy. His face between my thighs, tongue delving into my—. “I can’t say I love you. Not yet. I don’t want to. That’s too much for me without at least knowing, or getting to know who you are.”