by Monroe, Max
“Isn’t it awesome?”
Instead of answering him, I had to sit down on my couch before my knees buckled out from under me.
He’d somehow, someway, booked me a fucking gig at one of the biggest nightclubs in the city.
Drag shows, karaoke bars, hell, even open mic nights with all of thirty people in the crowd were one thing, but an actual gig like this? A goddamn nightclub packed to the gills? Fuck, I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready to be judged by all those people, and I wasn’t ready to even entertain the idea of music as something more than a hobby.
My parents—my grandfather—they would never be on board. I could be the next fucking finalist on American Idol, and they’d still tell me music was a pipe dream.
“Gem?” Leo asked and sat down beside me. “Are you okay?”
Around and around, my mind spun on the turmoil that would take over my family for years if I let myself do this…if I let myself get my hopes up. If I gave my everything to making it a career and… God, what if I failed?
If I put myself out there…if I sang my words, my lyrics…if I played my riffs, my notes, my music…what if I did all of that and didn’t get the warm, open-armed reaction I craved?
What if I threw my relationship with everyone I’d ever had my whole life out the window for nothing?
I knew my parents and my grandpa didn’t need to know about one performance, but what if one performance led to two, which led to three…which led to me attempting a career with music?
They’d disown me.
And fuck, what if they disowned me and I failed?
Anxiety burrowed itself in my chest, and I tried like hell to breathe through the choking sensation that had taken up residence in my throat.
“What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Leo’s concern was growing by the minute, but I clearly didn’t know what to say. So, I stared down at my hands that were now tightly clenched together in my lap. How did I even begin to broach turning him down without him making a big deal about it?
He’d been encouraging my music every time we were together, and he wouldn’t understand my rejecting this.
Hah. By the amount of excitement he’d bled all over my front door when he’d arrived, I could tell he wouldn’t understand at all.
“Gem?” Leo whispered my name, and I looked up from my hands and into his baby-blue eyes. “You all right?”
“No,” I answered honestly, finally finding it in me to make something other than my mind move. “I’m not all right.”
He searched my eyes and I knew it was my responsibility to tell him how I was feeling, but navigating this complicated of an issue felt like wading through water full of sharks.
“Leo…why did you book a gig for me?”
He reached out and took my hand in his. “Because you’re so fucking talented, baby. It’s so obvious that music is your passion, and it’s what you’re meant to do, Gem. And it’s time you start actually doing it.”
Sick with tension, I tried to hold myself removed from his hype, to make it clear that he needed to back off, without being hurtful. The last thing I wanted to do was turn this into something between the two of us.
I just didn’t know if it was avoidable.
“But that’s not your decision to make,” I said through a firm jaw. “That’s my decision.”
He tilted his head to the side and searched my face. “You’re not happy about this?”
“No,” I answered simply. “I’m not happy about this, Leo. This is such a bigger issue than I can explain, and the fact that you didn’t talk to me about this first… I just… I don’t know what to think right now.”
“You’re mad at me?” he asked, and shock rang out in his voice like a bell. “You’re seriously mad at me for getting you an opportunity like this?”
“An opportunity?” I spat back. “An opportunity for what, Leo? Fucking failure? Dissention in my family?”
“You’re not going to fail, Gem,” he said. “And your family will understand. When they see how brilliant you are, they’ll understand!” He tried to hold my hand again, but I snatched it away.
“How would you know?” I asked, and my voice continued to rise with irritation. “You don’t know anything about this. You don’t know what it’s like with my parents and my grandfather. You don’t know that they’ll understand because you don’t know them. They’re not your family, Leo. It’s not that simple!”
“Gem,” he said, but I just shook my head and stood up from the couch. I didn’t want to fight with him. It was the last fucking thing on the planet I wanted. He’d quickly become the brightest spot in my life and the only thing I had left that I felt like I’d done right.
I couldn’t do this anymore tonight without ruining it. If we kept going, I would say something I would regret—we would regret—forever. I just knew it.
“I’m tired, Leo,” I said. “I think it’s a good idea if we just call it a night.”
“You’re kicking me out?” he asked, and I shook my head. That wasn’t the way it was, but I knew that was the way he would see it no matter what I said or did. I just didn’t have the energy to make sure he knew the difference.
“Right now, I think it’s best if you just give me some space.”
“Space?” he questioned, and his jaw tightened with his words. “You want space from me?”
“Yeah, I do. For tonight. I need it.”
“Wow,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair before eventually standing. “Well, by all means, let me give you your space,” he added before heading toward the door. Anger lined the top of his shoulders, and a cold chill crept up my spine. “Good night, Gem,” he tossed haphazardly over his shoulder just before he walked out of my apartment.
Tears threatened, and anger quickly made an appearance in an attempt to distract me. How in the hell had any of this even happened?
It felt like one minute, I’d been excited about Leo coming over and putting on my sexiest pair of lace panties, and the next, I’d told him I needed space and he’d all but stormed out of my apartment.
Stunned, I walked into my kitchen and opened the fridge to snag a bottle of water from the bottom shelf.
I twisted open the cap, and just before I lifted it to my lips for a long drink, the living room window that led to the fire escape creaked open, and my already aching heart all but jumped out of my throat and onto the damn floor.
The curtains shifted, and my lungs tightened in fear as I prepared to see the face of a serial killer or ax murderer, but when Abby’s head peeked through, it took all of my willpower not to toss the water bottle at her head.
“What the fuck?” I questioned and put a shaking hand to my chest. “What are you doing on the goddamn fire escape?”
“Just getting some fresh air.” She shrugged and shut the window with a rattle behind her after climbing inside. “And, unfortunately, overhearing you being a huge bitch to your boyfriend.”
“I wasn’t being a bitch,” I denied, but the words felt like a lie even as they left my lips. I hadn’t meant to be a bitch. She rolled her eyes and plopped down onto my couch.
“Um, yes,” she retorted. “You were.”
“He booked me a fucking gig at Monarchy, Abby,” I said by way of explanation, knowing the rest of the details were important but too tired to get into them. “Without even talking to me first.”
“Oh man,” she said, and sarcasm dripped from her voice. “How awful that your boyfriend would book you a gig at one of the biggest clubs in the city because he thinks you’re super talented and wants to help you live your passion. What a bastard.”
Her words were a punch to the gut chock-full of perspective. Leo wasn’t the bad guy here. I was. My family’s expectations weren’t his fault, and my battle to keep a relationship with them wasn’t his responsibility. He’d done something genuine for me out of the kindness of his heart, and I’d essentially thrown it in his face. I stood frozen in my spot.
“He just wants to help you, Gem,” Abby added, but this time, she dropped the sarcasm and settled for soft and gentle. “He believes in you like I believe in you.”
He believed in me like my own family didn’t.
And I fucked it up.
How in the hell was I going to fix it?
To say I wasn’t in the clearest headspace during our sixth game of the season would be an understatement.
Gemma’s and my fight weighed heavily on my mind and took up residence in my limbs, and for a guy who was supposed to chase big, muscled dudes for an hour’s worth of playing time—and keep up with them—that wasn’t a good thing.
All I could do was be thankful that I hadn’t fucked up royally and screwed up our current winning record and chances at the championship.
No doubt if I had, I’d have more than Gemma mad at me.
Frustration was ripe as I ripped off my pads to the sounds of celebration around me.
A win was a win.
It didn’t matter to the other guys what fucked-up things were going on in my head, and quite frankly, I was glad. I didn’t need any of them trying to play shrink with my love life.
Or lack of love life, I thought sardonically.
“Hey, Landry,” Cam called as he strutted across the locker room.
I jerked up my chin in greeting, but other than that, went about the business of disrobing angrily.
“You were slow as shit out there,” he said with a smile, clearly not reading the situation correctly about how frustrated I was.
Or hell, maybe he had.
Maybe he just didn’t care.
Still, I didn’t hold back as I snapped, “I’m in no fucking mood, Cam.”
“Ooh,” he cooed, bouncing on his toes and swinging a leg over the bench to take a seat. “Something tells me all is not well in paradise.”
“Shut up,” I barked.
“Wow. Like, really not well.”
“Cam.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll lay off. Only because you didn’t completely suck. But trust, son, you start fucking up our record, and I’ll be gunning for you.”
I took a deep breath to calm myself down and nodded. That was fair, if a little insensitive, and it was the way of the professional football world. It wasn’t like high school, where getting dumped by your girlfriend was a valid fucking excuse.
This was the big leagues. This was my job.
This was important to more than just me, and there was a fuck of a lot on the line that the organization wouldn’t happily sacrifice to the well-being of my emotions.
It didn’t matter that Gem and I had had a fight three nights ago that had kept me from going to sleep. It didn’t matter that I’d spent every waking moment at the stadium trying to tune it all out. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t called since.
Fuck. It mattered.
It just didn’t matter to the Mavericks.
Cam gave me a shove, but he lowered his voice before walking away. “For what it’s worth, I hope it works out.”
I appreciated the kindness, something I knew he didn’t have to show me, no matter our friendship. We were relatively new friends in the scheme of things, and in the end, we were colleagues. He’d been working toward a championship for more years than I could fathom, and I couldn’t imagine my emotional distress would be a great comfort to him if I somehow fucked it up. “Thanks.”
“Now, cheer up. We won. Turn that fucking frown upside down.”
I took a deep breath and nodded again, this time letting my face break its pattern enough to form a small smile. He was right. I didn’t have to be Mary fucking Poppins, but we were six and oh, and in professional football, that really meant something. Every week, you played a top opponent. Every week, that flawless record was on the line.
If I couldn’t find the positives in the showing I’d made during my debut year in this league, I couldn’t find the positive in anything.
After a quick shower, I gathered my shit and made my way out of the locker room and into the hall. The area was mostly empty, and the rest of the guys were pretty much long gone, already headed out to celebrate, thanks to their lack of need to pout.
I put my head down and steadied myself for the onslaught of reporters that would be waiting outside. So dedicated was my newfound focus to avoiding every-fucking-one, I almost didn’t see her as I made to walk by.
“Leo,” she called simply—hesitantly.
I knew that voice, and never, in my whole life, could I forget that voice.
I mean, it’d only been haunting me for the past three days.
Honestly, it’d been haunting me since the first time I’d heard it all those months ago.
I pulled up short and turned back, squinting into the darkness to see all the hallmarks come to life.
Blond hair.
Killer body.
Sweet blue eyes.
It was her, all right, gilded within the shadow of the dark hallway or not. My emotions weren’t playing tricks on me.
“Gemma?”
“Ha. Yeah. It’s me,” she said and worried her teeth against her lip.
“How’d you get back here?” I asked, knowing the security to get into the hallway with the players was Fort Knox kind of tight.
“I, uh, kind of told the security guard I was your sister and I had your medication.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And he believed you?”
She shook her head. “Not even a little. But I think he felt bad for me. Maybe it was the pathetic pout or the black circles under my eyes, but I think it was clear I haven’t slept properly for a few days.”
I tilted my head with a little laugh and made a note to watch out for psychopaths. Apparently, the security around here wasn’t as tight as I’d once thought.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, going straight for the question that mattered.
She nodded then, shuffling her feet slightly and self-consciously. Gone was the vibrant woman I’d brought out to drag clubs and karaoke bars, and back was the one who’d been nervous even to look at me. I hated seeing her like this, but seeing her in general? I didn’t hate that at all.
“Yeah, I can see why’d you’d ask that. Abby says I was a bitch to you.”
“Abby?”
She laughed. “Yeah. Big shock.” Her shoulders bumped up and dropped again in a shrug. “She apparently heard our fight.”
I shook my head at her crazy friend and set it aside. Abby wasn’t what mattered, as weird as her behavior was. What mattered was the shit that had gone down between Gemma and me. The absolute wrong move I’d made—and the shitty way she’d handled it.
I knew, when it came to our first official fight, we’d both been in the wrong.
I should’ve talked to her first before booking that gig.
And she should have tried to understand the only reason I’d done it was because I was fucking crazy about her and I only wanted the best for her. Instead, she’d pushed me away and let me go three days of thinking the absolute fucking worst.
“What do you think?” I asked. “Were you a bitch?”
She flinched at my use of the word in the context of her, but in the end, she shrugged. “I was upset. And I know I didn’t handle it well, nor did you deserve that kind of awful reaction. Truthfully, I would have gotten in touch sooner, but…I knew it had to be in person. And you’re really hard to keep up with this late in the week.”
I nodded. Game weeks were always a push in preparation. If she’d have called, I would have answered, but it didn’t feel right to put any more blame on her than there already was.
“What did I deserve?”
She smirked. “A polite decline?”
I laughed, relieved to have just a hint of her cuteness back. “And what else?”
“A hug?”
Stepping closer, I pulled her body against mine and pushed us both against the wall. The contact soothed my entire body immediately. “And what else?” I asked again, this time much more softly.<
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“Hmm. A kiss?”
Leaning forward, I took her mouth with mine and swept my tongue inside. She gasped as it united with hers, and my gut finally unclenched.
Hours, days of agony, all released at once.
Quickly and discreetly, I stepped back and grabbed her hand before guiding her down the hall and behind a door that read Service Closet.
She smiled as we stepped inside, but I didn’t give her time to blush, even loving it as much as I did. Instead, I pushed the door shut and her up against it, pulling a leg up onto my hip and pressing our lips together again.
One kiss, two, I worked her mouth and then her neck and all the way down to her collarbone before coming up for air.
“I missed you,” I breathed into the little hollow spot at the center, and her hips pushed up and out toward mine.
“Me too,” she gasped as I ripped open the buttons of her shirt and put my mouth to the lace of her bra.
Delicately, one nipple at a time, I sucked and plundered until she was writhing against me in agony.
A feeling that maybe slightly resembled the one I’d been carrying around since we parted ways three nights ago.
I worked my way down her body slowly, inch by inch, until I reached the button of her pants, and I didn’t stop there. With a quick flick, I undid the button and slid them down her legs, taking the panties with them as I went.
She moaned as the cold air hit her hot, wet clit, and I licked my lips at the sight of her glistening.
“Don’t worry, Gem,” I said with a wink as I looked up between her legs. “I’ll handle this performance all on my own.”
She laughed at my audacity, but I didn’t.
I got a taste of just the medicine I needed.
And God, did she taste good.
Fuck yes, all is right with the world again.
This beautiful woman, she was everything I wanted and more. So much so that going three days feeling like things had ended between us was not something I ever planned on repeating again.
She was my girl. My bombshell mystery package that only I had the pleasure of unwrapping.