Kiss Kiss

by Various Authors

  It really did feel like we’d known each other for a thousand lifetimes in that first kiss, I just didn’t have those words at the time. Now, I stood in my kitchen, ready to spend more time with him, anticipating the next time I could kiss him. I loved him. Butterflies fluttered drunkenly through my system when I heard a knock on the door. They dropped dead when I opened it.

  “Adrian, what the hell are you doing here?” I let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “Can I come in?” His voice was eerily urgent.

  “No, you may not. I’ve got plans.” I stood in the doorway with no intention of letting him in.

  “Ember, let me in, I just want to talk to you.” Urgency turned to agitation.

  “Adrian, I’ve had a long fucking day. Josh showed up at Monica’s this morning, drunk out of his mind, begging for forgiveness or whatever, and I just want to go out. So, if you would . . .” I slid past him and shut the door, putting both of us in the stairwell.

  I jogged past him, down the stairs, deciding to meet Bo outside as a way to get Adrian out of my apartment.

  “Wait!” Adrian yelled as he grabbed my arm tightly and yanked me back.

  “Ow! Don’t, Adrian!” I huffed, my cheeks fighting the heat. He released my arm immediately.

  “Shit, I’m Sorry. Is Monica OK? He put his hands in his pockets as he tried to change the subject. Good place for your hands - keep them there.

  “Yeah. Hey, I know you have some stuff you want to talk to me about, or whatever, but can it wait until we’re in Concord? I’ve got plans with Bo tonight, and then Monica and I are going to watch him sing tomorrow. I just can’t fit you in my head right now.” My frankness never sat well with Adrian, and this time was no different.

  “That’s nice, Ember. So, that’s all I am to you? Someone who takes up space in your head?” He stayed one stair behind me, but that didn’t soften his antagonizing tone.

  When I reached the bottom stair, I turned around and looked him square in the eyes.

  “Look, Adrian, I’ve had enough surprises from you this week, wouldn’t you say? Just, please, leave it alone for now.” I opened the door and jumped at the sight of Bo, leaning against his car, arms crossed in front of him. I couldn’t tell if it was in relaxation or defense.

  Oh, hell.

  Bo nodded his chin up at me and opened the passenger door of his car, but his eyes never left Adrian. I looked back as I climbed in, and noted that Adrian’s eyes bored through Bo, as well. I had nothing to go on; no idea why they were like this with each other. It wasn’t because of me and, if it was, Adrian needed to screw off because we were not an option. Not one single word passed between Bo and Adrian before Bo got into his car, and Adrian into his. When Adrian pulled away, Bo gripped his steering wheel in apparent frustration.

  “What was that about?” Bo asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes as he pulled away from the curb.

  “No. What was that about? That was like a friggen showdown.” I pointed my thumb to the sidewalk, wide eyed.

  “He just seems to be at your place a lot,” he said with a hint of accusation.

  “Yes, he does, and I’d like for you to explain why.”

  “I told you, the man’s jealous. But, I also saw the look on your face when you walked out the door - you looked upset.” Bo’s eyes remained on the road.

  “I was upset that he showed up unannounced when I told him we could talk later.”

  I reached for Bo’s hand, and ran my thumb along his knuckles until his shoulders relaxed. I intentionally left out the bit about Adrian grabbing my arm and pulling me backward on the stairs.

  “Sorry,” he relented.

  “Me too. Come on, let’s just go and have some fun. I can’t tell you how tired I am of discussing Adrian Turner.” I glanced out the window to clear my thoughts.

  “Hey, I wanted to run something by you . . .” Bo broke our few minutes of silence as we seemed to drive aimlessly around town.

  “Yea?”

  “Turns out I have to head back to Concord tomorrow morning. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come with me? Monica could meet you there Monday for the meeting and you could ride home with her afterward.” Bo sounded hopeful.

  “Absolutely,” I said without hesitation.

  “That was quick.” Bo chuckled as he pulled into Finnegan’s parking lot. Freakin’ Finnegan’s? Really?

  “Bo, I love you. What, exactly, is there to think about? I’ll tell Carrie I’m going to extend my room stay by two days.”

  “Or . . . you could just stay with me, at my place,” he suggested bashfully.

  Two nights with Bo, alone, at his place? Mother, may I?

  “Sounds perfect.” I smiled, “What are we doing here? I thought you had a surprise; Finnegan’s is no surprise to me.” I cocked an eyebrow and he chuckled.

  “First surprise is I’m going to play a set here tonight, since I won’t be around tomorrow. The second surprise is . . . still a surprise.” He winked as he got out of the car.

  As we walked in, I was instantly annoyed at the sight of Josh behind the bar. I chose to ignore him and asked Bo to grab me a beer while I found a table. I watched Bo and Josh talk for a minute; Josh even cracked a smile. Bo nodded back in my direction and then stayed at the bar while Josh headed toward me. What the hell? As Josh got closer I straightened in my chair and could feel my nerves tense. I was not in the mood for another round of name-calling. He took a seat next to me and I raised my eyebrows, signaling him to get on with it.

  “You’re looking better,” I said snidely. He didn’t acknowledge my sarcasm before he began to apologize.

  “I’m so sorry for how I treated you last night, and this morning. After you yelled at me, it hit me - I can’t live without Monica. Look what happened to me after 48 hours away from her.” Josh shook his head and looked to the floor. “She hasn’t talked to me since I left her apartment this morning, but I think she’s coming here tonight and I really need to talk to her Ember; I need to get her back- I’m such an ass.” His jaw tightened as he cursed himself.

  “Yes, Josh, you are. I’m sorry for yelling at you. You were drunk and hurting, but I went into defense mode for Monica. I’ll text her, but if she’s not ready that’s not my fault - are we clear?” Josh nodded and I sighed as I texted Monica.

  Me: Hey. At Finnegan’s- Josh is working. He’s on bended knee telling me how badly he needs to talk to you. Judging by the look on his face I’d say you should give him a few minutes.

  Monica: Boys are dumb- be there in a while.

  “She’ll be here in a bit,” I said flatly.

  “Thank you.” Josh gave my forearm a squeeze before heading to the stage to introduce Bo.

  Bo sat down on the center stool. I noticed the second stool to his left and concluded I’d be singing with him again at some point. He spoke his thanks in to the microphone.

  Swiftly, a low-toned melody drowned out any lingering applause garnished by the patrons of Finnegan’s. My senses labored in slow motion as I lifted my eyes to the stage. Bo was looking down at his hands as they floated across the guitar that was producing a lullaby - my lullaby. Holy . . . I could almost see the red in my own cheeks as I watched him, up on stage, playing the song he had transcribed only this morning.

  When he finished one line of the wordless melody, everyone clapped politely as my cheeks stung with what I was sure was crimson.

  “Thank you, I just started working on that this morning. A beautiful woman played it for me.” He smiled while looking at me across the bar and my breathing increased. “Ember, will you come up?”

  I felt faint when he said my name, knowing that all of Finnegan’s now knew I was the ‘beautiful woman’ who played that song.

  “That was lovely,” I said as I reached the stage and kissed him on the cheek, ignoring the crowd. They responded with requisite “oohs” and “ahs” as I settled down on the stool. “What are we going to sing?”

  Bo leaned his head away from me slig
htly as that sexy smile of his graced his face. He ignored me and started strumming the lullaby again. I stared, confused, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and all the air left my body. Monica stood there with an impish grin on her face - holding my guitar.

  “What the hell?” My response produced a rumble of laughter from the crowd, and from Bo.

  “I picked it up on my way here - I was on my way when you texted,” Monica whispered, unable to contain her smile.

  Shaking the daze from my head, I absentmindedly reached for the guitar and slung it over my shoulder.

  “Come on,” Bo urged, and the crowd clapped.

  I took a deep breath, the desert in my throat was thankful that I wouldn’t be singing, and closed my eyes. I kept them closed long enough to regulate my breathing. Fleeing from their hiding place, my eyes opened to see Bo staring at me, perhaps questioning his move to surprise me with the guitar. I wasn’t upset; this was the most romantic thing that I’d ever witnessed and it was happening to me. I gave him a reassuring smile and joined in seamlessly. It was the first time I’d ever performed with the guitar, but I relaxed after just one line; beacons of light and exuberance shone from my core, highlighting the awestruck crowd.

  “Keep playing that - don’t stop,” Bo said, as I focused on the task quite literally at hand.

  In a second I heard a higher melody that harmonized perfectly with what I was playing. I looked over at Bo and he cautioned a proud grin as he played this beautiful compliment.

  “I wrote this part today, for you,” he said into the microphone.

  I stopped hearing the applause long before it ceased. My eyes blurred with tears; I begged my fingers to hold on to the notes they knew. Bo wrote music for me. Music is the original love letter, and Bo Cavanaugh was reciting his to me for all of Finnegan’s to witness. It is as public a proclamation of love as one can receive and each chord he played had a direct line to one of my heart strings.

  There weren’t any lyrics, but Bo intermittently hummed a husky-sweet melody in to the microphone, as if he were trying to work out lyrics in his head. This was surely more beautiful than words could ever be. I saw my parents do this regularly when I was a child; at night after I went to bed they would stay up and just play music with each other. My dad would strum something and my mom would respond with her voice, the piano, or her own stringed instrument. I would peek at them out on the porch from my bedroom window but they never noticed; they were lost in each other the entire time. It filled my heart with such joy then, and now I could feel it first handed as it sent me through the stratosphere.

  Any love I thought I had for Bo Cavanaugh before this very moment paled in comparison to what exploded through me on stage. Reckless Abandon was left in the dust, her chest heaving in the after-effects of this gesture. I thought that if that was as good as it would get, I wanted to stay forever; if it was going to get even better - Heaven help me.

  With one blink, tears trundled down my face; luckily we were nearing the end of the song. When I reached the last bar and stopped, Bo continued for another couple of lines. The higher melody was perfect, and he wrote it for me. When Bo finished and the crowd clapped, I could no longer hold back. I set my guitar down, grabbed his face, and sank my thanks into his lips right there on stage while the crowd yelped and whistled.

  “Did you like it?” Bo whispered, grazing a tear off my cheek as I pulled myself away from the kiss.

  “Bo,” I faltered through a thesaurus of gratitude, “it was absolutely perfect.”

  I dabbed under my eyes and looked out to the crowd, where I saw Adrian was standing cross-armed near the door. His eyes connected briefly with mine before they fell to the floor.

  “I’m going to take a little break, but I’ll be back,” Bo said before he silenced his mic and led me off stage.

  Monica accosted me before we hit the bar.

  “November, Jesus! That was the sexiest, sweetest, most romantic thing I’ve ever seen!” She squeezed me with all her might and I reciprocated. She was right.

  “Ember,” Josh approached us cautiously with wide, round eyes. “I had no idea you could . . .” he trailed off, looking at me for approval to continue.

  “Thanks.” I smiled and he relaxed.

  Bo grabbed my shoulders from behind me and kissed my neck. Elation ebbed when I heard Adrian’s voice.

  “That was good, really good.” Adrian’s compliment sounded forced; he could barely make eye contact with me as he leaned in. “I get it,” he whispered; his lips an inch from my ear.

  “Yo, Spence, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Adrian turned to Bo. ‘Spence’ is it?

  “Sure, be right back babe.” Bo kissed my other ear before he headed out the door.

  Once Bo was out of sight, I told Monica that he’d asked me to go to Concord with him the next morning.

  “You’re going to go, right?” Expectation poured through her words.

  “Of course I am, as long as you don’t mind travelling there alone. We’ll ride back together.” I tried to control my beaming excitement.

  “You go. Have yourself a fantastic weekend of love, and music, and whatever the hell else it is you two perfect creatures do.”

  Josh came up behind me and handed me a beer. He was standing next to Monica, but her eyes remained focused on my face.

  “Uh, Mon?” Josh cleared his throat as he tried to capture her attention.

  Monica’s stance collapsed, and her shoulders slumped as she turned toward Josh. Her head dropped, but Josh lifted her chin with his index finger, bringing her eyes to his. They stared at each other, saying nothing with words, but their eyes spoke volumes. There’s a thousand lifetimes right there.

  I don’t know if it was the complexity of the situation between Josh and Monica, my own feelings for Bo, or the raging war between where I was and where I wanted to be, but when I watched Josh and Monica stare at each other, fresh tears begged for release.

  “Guys, I love you both. Josh, I hate how shitty I’ve been to you, but Monica’s my soul-mate best friend. I’ll get out of your hair so you guys can talk.” I hugged them and headed to the back door before either of them could respond. I gave a quick glance over my shoulder and saw Josh tenderly place his arm around Monica’s shoulders as they walked to a table in the back.

  I started to open the door to the deck, but stopped briefly when I noticed a heated exchange between Bo and Adrian. I could see the sides of each of their bodies; both of them retained clenched jaws, spoke through gritted teeth, and motioned wildly with their hands.

  “This is going too far . . .” was all I heard from Adrian’s mouth before I started yelling.

  “What the hell is going on?” I fumed as I walked boldly up to them.

  They stood motionless, their eyes dueling. I slid between what little space they had between their bodies, causing them to each take a step back.

  “I’ve had enough of this awkwardness between the two of you, and I know it’s not because of me.” I hung on the word ‘me’ as I arched my eyebrow at Adrian. “Now, one of you better tell me what this is all about or I’ll leave and not speak to either one of you again.” Poker face activated.

  Long seconds passed as Adrian and Bo held a soundless conversation. I took one step forward, enough of this, and made my way to the door before Adrian grabbed my arm. Again, really?

  “Ember, wait,” he said, clearly conflicted.

  “Let go of her, Turner,” Bo said harshly, without reaching for my other arm. “I’ll tell her.”

  My pulse quickened, and the heat of anticipation scorched my ears.

  “Tell me what?” I shook free from Adrian’s lingering hold.

  I turned my back to Adrian and faced Bo. His face looked like it was about to shatter under the punch of pain.

  “Bo, tell me what?” I said with more assertion, my hand on his arm.

  He stepped back, which threw me off balance emotionally, and my hand remained suspended in air for a split seco
nd before I let it fall haphazardly to my side. I turned around and looked at Adrian, who just nodded in Bo’s direction with a look of concession. I slowly turned back around to see Bo seated with his elbows on his knees, his hands clenched around his hair.

  “Ember,” he lifted his head and shot me an exhausted gaze. “I’m being blackmailed.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Blackmailed? By who? For what?” Thoughts flew out of my mouth before I could filter them.

  Bo’s elbows remained on his knees as he searched my face. His eyes ran red with pain, and I had to look down. He swallowed hard and looked past my shoulder, to Adrian. I turned on my heels and met Adrian’s eyes.

  “Wait, you?” I said to Adrian.

  “No, Ember, I’m not,” Adrian said unflappably, as if he was prepared for my reaction. “I’m on his legal team - remember?”

  “Are you being blackmailed or is DROP being blackmailed.” I had three trillion questions, but I stuck to the most basic as my head wrapped around the world ‘blackmail.’

  Bo looked up at Adrian, who gave him a nod.

  “It’s just me. The only connection this has to DROP, of course, is my money. Otherwise, this is one hundred percent personal.” A grim line set across his brow.

  “How long has this been going on?” I asked.

  “About six weeks,” Bo whispered, still seated.

  “OK. So you,” I pointed to Bo, “knew you were being blackmailed when you came to town. And you,” I pointed to Adrian, “knew he was being blackmailed when you recommended our agency to him?” the basement of my voice flooded with anger.

  Adrian took a step toward me, but I stepped back, stopping him.

  “No. I’ve only been consulting with DROP’s legal team for a few weeks. I was consulted specifically for the purpose of finding a collaborating agency. It wasn’t until after the initial contacts with Hope were made that I was informed of the blackmail.” He gave me a minute to process, before continuing.