by Bisou, Lily
He drops his amp behind the stage and slides off his leather jacket. “Unlike you, Sweetheart, I don’t think at all how things make me appear. I just do. So, if I seem desperate and lost then you just go on believin’ it.”
A moment later, before I can come up with a proper comeback, Ryan presses his hard figure against my body and holds me. We’re alone in the dark with a single red light illuminating Ryan’s pleasing features. “What the heck are you doing?” I say, though don’t feel any urge to push him away.
“Just doing.” He pinches my chin and leans down, smashing his soft, warm lips to mine own. I sigh heavily out my nose that suggests I might be enjoying this a little too much. He responds to my pleasure and presses his tongue into my mouth. We indulge in each other, knowing how rough we like it. His hand combs through the back of my hair and he tugs backward so my neck exposes to him. I become a little drunk on my own lust and creep my hand under the hem of his shirt until I feel his skin beneath my fingertips.
I touch him for a beat then he pulls away from me leaving me silently begging for more. I should’ve expected it.
“You. Fucking. Bastard,” I say and discover I’m smiling coyly.
“I’ll see you later, Sis.”
“Don’t fucking call me that!”
VIII
I’m left alone in the crowd of Golden Ribs fangirls and dudes cheering for their favorite Indie-Band-of-the-Moment to enter the stage. Everyone I’ve messaged to meet up with tonight is either busy or not responding. That means that I have to actually try endure my stepbrother’s music for the first time since Gabby’s wedding.
The lights dim.
The crowd bellows out shrill screams and cheers.
Silhouettes of four male bodies enter the stage and move to their instruments.
“Hollywooooood!” I roll my eyes to Ryan’s gravelly tone bellowing out of the speakers beside me. An explosion of screaming and cheers rings louder than before as the music starts.
Ryan is playing a fast paced rhythm on his guitar. I notice that he’s different on stage behind that mic and guitar. He loses himself in the most alluring of ways. I recall when they played at the wedding, it was when I watched his face strained in ecstasy during a guitar solo that I wanted to be his.
It seemed I’m falling for his band persona all over again, too. My hips start moving with the catchy rhythms they’re playing and I can’t help but grin the whole time. I suppose it’s fine for me to enjoy myself in the darkness where he can’t see me.
“Another storm and swell in our tide,” he sings through the climax. “Please realize, babe, I’m all in for the ride!”
I lose myself, if only a little bit, to my new stepbrother’s undeniable gift at performing. The strobe lights blink fast, the music swells, I throw my arms in the air and dance along with my eyes closed tightly.
“I’m all in for the ride,” I sing along with him.
Though it will be the unravelling of me.
IX
01:30 my phone displays.
I’m at the empty bar spinning my full glass of beer. The female bartender has given up conversation with me after realizing I’m related to Ryan. She apologized but thought it best due to her opinion of him that she avoid the rest of the Caulter clan. I tried to explain both our lack of actual relation to each other and the fact I sympathize with her completely but, by that point, she’d already migrated to the other end of the counter.
“You coming?” Ryan shouts through the quiet room.
“What?”
“Are you coming or not?”
“Well, I haven’t been sitting here alone the last hour because I enjoy it.”
“We’ve been backstage. You coulda joined us.”
“You could’ve come and offered.”
“Whatever, we’re leaving. You can come if you want.”
My patience has worn thin. I stomp over to him and try my best to stand as tall as possible in front of him. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” Ryan says with an awkward laugh.
“Stop treating me like this. I’m not just another girl you chewed up and spit out one lonely night. I’m your sister now and you’ll fucking learn to treat me with some decency. I came to watch your band then I patiently waited for you to be finished with whatever you have going on. The polite thing to do would be to apologize for making me wait that long then tell me where we’re going. If I choose not to go with you, you get me a cab and text me later to make sure I get home safely. On the other hand, if I accept to join you, you will be by my side until I’m comfortable with the situation. Got it?”
It pisses me off even more when he laughs again. His arms are folded across his chest as he examines me. “Goddammit, you know how to drive me wild, don’t you, Sis?” He combs some hair behind my ear and I shoo his arm away.
“Ryan, stop it.”
“You like my music.”
“What? That’s not what we’re talking about right n—“
“—I saw you dancing to it. You looked as good as you did in that stupid bridesmaid dress when you tripped on the dance floor. You remember that?”
Again, my blood doesn’t know how to behave and flushes my face. Exasperated, I squeeze my temples at this impossibly frustrating man who truly doesn’t give a shit about anything. “Can we just go already?”
“Thought you wanted me to get you a cab?”
“I said that if I chose not to join you. And I think I’m not ready to go to sleep yet.”
X
The bassists apartment we pulled up to had almost no furniture in it bar a second hand sofa, that looked like it had been through the wars, and a television. I perch myself on the arm rest next to the drummer, Kent.
“So, you and Ryan, how you guys know each other?” Kent asks.
“He didn’t tell you yet?”
“Naw, not yet.”
“Um, well…We are just…We’re old friends.”
“She’s my stepsister.” Ryan corrects me as he plays with some cords behind the television.
“No shit. Stepsister? I didn’t know you had family, bro.”
“My dad just remarried her mom. We only met today.”
We make eye contact and I silently thank him with a tightening of my lips for not being completely honest about our associations. That secret regret is to remain within the bounds of only us, though I don’t know if I can fully trust Ryan to do that.
Kent yawns and as he does so wraps his arm around the back of my ass. It’s been a while since I’ve received obvious signs from guys that they’re into me. In fact, it was that night with Ryan that made me swear off guys for at least a little while. Being treated like a common whore doesn’t exactly inspire you to put yourself out there sexually.
“Alright, we’re in business,” Ryan says reappearing from behind the television. Kent scoops his arm more obviously around me until his palm is against the other side of my thigh. Music starts playing and a few other groups arrive in through the door.
“Boys, boys, boys, look what we brought.” The bassist in the band, Ben, extends his arm to let a harem of attractive LA-type women into the room.
“Ry-Ry,” the blonde one whines and squeezes her body against Ryan in an inebriated hug. “Why the fuck didn’t you text me back the other day? I waited forever for you to show up.” She doesn’t sound half as mad as she should at what sounds like a shitty situation. Ryan has that effect on us women I guess— We can forgive him, writing him off as a lovable asshole who’ll never learn. And the fact I’m admitting that I fall into that group is kind of alarming. I have forgiven him already. Otherwise why the hell would I follow him here after treating me like he did?
XI
I’m introduced to the other women but don’t move from my safe position on the sofa. Kent is now rubbing his hand along my leg and I can’t say it’s all that uninvited. I look down to him with a smile to show him some appreciation. That’s all the hint he needs to stand up in front of me and whisper into my ear, “
Let’s go somewhere.”
His hand takes mine and he leads me out onto the large balcony overlooking West Hollywood. The lights and the sounds are all so beautiful. I forget about Ryan for the moment as Kent stands behind me to observe the view. His arms wrap around my body and I lean my head into his neck.
“I was watching you while we were playing. It’s cool how you can let yourself go like that even when you’re alone.”
“Oh, well, thank you. You guys have good music. I probably looked like a complete dork though, huh?”
“You could never pass as a dork.” Kent’s warm breath against my neck has my stomach in knots. I close my eyes, feel the cool breeze against my face and let him place soft love bites down my neck. “Ryan would probably kill me for asking you this but would you go on a date with me tomorrow night? Despite being best friends with him, I am not a Ryan Caulter type. I actually enjoy getting to know women.”
I nod against him. “I think I’d like that.”
He drags his fingertips through my hair and turns my head toward him. Our eyes meet and I am able to appreciate his light features. I can’t resist and decide to make the first move. I rest my lips to his and he pulls me in closer. I savor him for a while, enjoying feeling sexier than I have in a very long time.
But then…
“I bring my little sister out one time, man?” Kent lets go of me and turns to face an angry Ryan. He’s more serious than I’ve ever seen him. With his mouth drawn in a tight line, he shoves Kent back against the glass of the balcony by his shoulder.
“Hey, fuck you, dude. She’s not even your real sister.”
“You’re really gonna disrespect me right now? Her mom wants me to take care of her. You think I’d feel okay agreeing to do that then letting my mates fuck her? That’s not how this works. You choose one of your dollar-store whores inside. This one’s off limits.”
I want to say something. Ryan has a vein throbbing down the center of his forehead and he’s turning red. Whoever gets on the receiving end when this geyser bursts is in for it.
“This one is a grown fucking woman who can make her own choices,” I say. “So how about you calm down and take a breather.”
“Leave, Grace,” he says not breaking eye contact with Kent. “Just go downstairs.”
XII
I listened!
Why did I listen? It’s cold out here on the quiet street and I’m not even entirely sure if Ryan meant get outside and leave or just get outside. But here I am, the fool waiting on my Prince Uncharming like every moronic girl in films I always scream at.
“Asshole,” I say under my breath as I request a taxi home. “Asshole, bastard, rude, big mouthed, smiling, babbling, attractive, goofball, idiot, fuckhead…” I rattle off enough adjectives to make a nun blush and it seems to help.
Tool is the another word that comes to mind but in relation to myself. Somehow, this arrogant asshole has made me, tough and independent Grace Hembrow, a foolish tool. How does he do it to me so easily? One word and I’m obeying him like a sheepish little puppy dog.
“You, ugh, you fucking cunt!” I’m tired. I’m angry with myself. I never use that word but, in this situation, I allow myself to let go just once. I fucking hate him all over again.
“You kiss your brother with that mouth?”
“Ryan, seriously.”
“Sorry I kept you waiting so long. I needed to talk shit through with Kent. He can’t play you like that. He’s just drunk.”
“Play me how? He was nothing but gentlemanly. If you didn’t know he invited me on a date specifically to get to know me better. So, yeah, thanks for ruining a good evening and a possible great date yet again.”
Ryan leans down to me and grips the sides of my head to place a kiss upon my forehead. As he lets out a big sigh, I can smell the heavy remnants of a recent tequila shot on his breath.
“I have to show you something.” From his pocket, he removes his phone and clicks away at it for a while. I surrender to his confusing way of treating me, resigning me to hang on his every next step. I never know what to expect from him and figure it’s best for my sanity that I don’t try figure it out. “Look,” he says with his screen held up to me and stumbles slightly.
“You’re so drunk. How about we do this another day?”
“Drunk is the only time I’ll have the balls to do this so quit being a sass queen and just look.”
He shoves the phone further toward my face. I read a message:
Grace, I fucked up last night.
I fucked up enough that I felt a need to cyber stalk you, find your email address and tell you sorry about this morning.
So here it is: I’m really fucking sorry.
I’d love to make it up to you over something a little more civil. Lunch?
Call me 808 263 5555
“What is this?”
“This is a draft email that was supposed to be for you but I guess I got the address wrong because it bounced back,” he says and continues scrolling through his phone until he finds something else to show me. “And then there’s this…”
Now, a text message before me reads:
Hi Gabriella. This is Ryan Caulter from the band who played at your wedding. Wondering if I can get your bridesmaid, Grace’s, number from you? She left something with me that I need to give back to her. Regards
“You text Gabby?”
“She didn’t respond.”
“Ryan, what are you pl—“
“Wait, there’s some more here somewhere too.”
Another message:
Dude, met a chick last night and I need to find her again. You get any of the bridesmaids’ numbers? Hit me up ASAP
“Suffice to say, Grace, that night…I am almost positive that I made a really fucking life-altering mistake in letting you walk out that door.”
“Kicking me out the door,” I correct him.
“Well, it was awkward for all parties involved I think.”
“Awkward for you. Hurtful to me.” I turn back up the street to see the taxi pulling up. “Well, this is me.”
“Wait, you’ve got nothing to say?”
I click open the door and climb into the vehicle. “Nope. I think I’m good.” My sass is on point and I pride myself on slamming the car door closed quickly. I drive away letting me watch Ryan in my rear view mirror, his posture severely deflated. Finally, I get an upper hand…
Until all of what just happened hits me like a freight train.
XIII
My quiet bedroom is a welcomed sanctuary when I arrive home. It feels great to remove my boots and restrictive jeans and climb into more comfortable attire of my old Mickey Mouse pajamas. My new four-poster bed invites me beneath it’s covers where I browse through my own phone to find Gabby’s number. Sure, it’s early — 04:03 — but best friends wake up for best friends no matter what the hour, right?
“He-hello?” her tired voice croaks.
“Gigi, I need you right now.”
“O—Oh, Gracie, is everything okay?” she whispers back down the phone. “Just one second.”
“Yeah, I mean, no. I mean, everything is weird all of a sudden and I really need to vent to someone rational before I lose my mind.”
“Spill the beans. Lemme just move to the other room.”
We talked for an hour about my entire situation: Firstly, why Gabby didn’t reply to Ryan’s text. Like the good friend she is, she answered it was simply because she remembered how much of a prick I said he was and how I never wanted to talk to him again. Secondly, what the fuck do I do now that he’s my stepbrother? That bombshell took a little longer for Gabby to digest but we got through it together.
“What parallel universe did I just fall into?” she says.
“I know, right? Gabby, it’s insane. And tonight he was being all weird— Showing me all these texts and messages about how he wanted to find me again. I mean, what am I supposed to think? Does he like me still? Was he just drunk? Is he fucking with me?”
“Brunch sounds good,” I say, assuming Kent definitely will not be pursuing me as a romantic fling with Psycho’s stepsister anymore.
“Alright, sleep well. We’ll figure it out.”
XIV
Sleep didn’t arrive for me. I keep tossing and turning waiting to hear Ryan come home. When the front door finally clicks open at six o’clock, I listen carefully to his steps moving down the corridor. Then I hear my door handle click open and the door push slightly ajar.
“Ryan,” I whisper when I see his boot breach the doorway.
“Grace, you awake?”
“No.”
He walks into my dimly lit room looking a little worse for wear and stinking of liquor and cigarettes. His hair is a tangled mop that hangs over his face. “Can we talk?”
“It’s kind of early, isn’t it?”
“Grace.” He perches at the end of my bed and lets his head fall into his hands. I sit up further and try to hide my juvenile pajamas beneath my blankets. “I need help. I need your help.” That’s when he lifts his face to me. From the vague light emanating through the windows, I can make out how damaged his features are— Swollen and blue with caked blood leaking from open sores.
I’m all in for the ride, I remind myself and climb out from the protection of my covers.
To be continued in Part 2 (Out late May 2015)…
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