by L A Tavares
“Out, out. Shopping, drinks. If you’re going to be friends with Blake, then you’re going to have to be a friend of mine, too.” She shrugs her shoulders, waiting for a response.
Stasia looks at me for advice, but anything I say is going to get me in trouble so I, for once, shut up.
“Yeah, that sounds…super fun.” Stasia adds two thumbs-up for good measure. Kelly walks out of the door. Stasia turns to look at me, her jaw practically on the floor in disbelief. “If I don’t make it back, tell Xander he can have my guitar.”
“What? What about me?”
“You got me into this mess,” she says in a low growl. “You get nothing.” She walks away, following the path Kelly took.
I call Xander and suggest we meet up for a drink. Luckily, he agrees.
The bar Xander found is an on-beach tiki-hut-style place full of neon colors and light music. Our dark-colored clothing, jeans and boots contrast against the bright colors, floral shirts and bathing suits everyone else wears.
“What did you do this time?” Xander asks, as the bartender slides his drink across the bar top. “Or who, should I say?”
“Oh, nothing like that.” I signal to the bartender for a drink. “Kelly came out here to surprise me for our anniversary and Stasia was in my room. Now they’re hanging out.”
Xander chokes on his drink and slams his hand against his chest as he coughs. “Wow,” he says, his cough turning into a laugh. I recap the details of Kelly’s arrival.
“I love Kelly. You know that, man, better than anyone. Stasia has turned out to be a great friend. I want them to get along, I do. I just don’t see it working out in my favor.”
“Honestly, Blake, I don’t think you’re giving Kelly enough credit. Name another girl—any other girl—who would try to get to know your female friend instead of just pulling the ‘it’s me or her’ card.” Xander takes a sip of his drink mid-lecture, then continues to his point. “She’s not the jealous type. If you mean it when you say you’re just friends with Stasia, Kelly will figure that out too.”
“We’re just friends,” I reiterate. “Besides, Stasia’s seeing someone, I think.”
Xander takes a sip of his drink and nods to the open wall where the beach meets the bar.
A few hours and multiple drinks later, both girls, Kelly and Stasia, make their way up the beach with their shoes in their hands.
Well, they’re both alive and together, so I take it things went okay-ish, at least.
Kelly belongs in Miami, honestly. She doesn’t stand out like the rest of us. I could picture her living here, standing on the balcony of some extravagant beach home with the sun lightening her already-blonde hair. Now, she walks across the beach under the dim light provided by the moon holding wedge sandals in the crook of one arm and her coral-colored dress flows around her body as she walks. Stasia, by comparison, almost blends in to the darkened world. Black fitted leather pants and a dark gray ripped tank top have her matching the midnight-colored sky overhead.
Kelly stands at the door, a smile on her face when my eyes meet hers. That’s a good sign. She nods over her shoulder toward the vacant beach. I leave my cup on the bar top and meet her at the entrance. She laces her fingers in mine and we walk along the edge of the water. There’s silence between us but I don’t want to break it. I don’t want to talk first.
“You were right.” Her voice carries out over the open ocean. Where’s a tape recorder when you need it? Hell, I’ve never been right before, and I’m certain she will never say it again.
“About?” I tighten my grip in her fingers.
“Stasia. She’s fabulous.” Kelly runs her thumb across my hand as we walk. “She’s the female version of you. You both have so much in common. I didn’t understand it before, but I get it. I really, really didn’t want to like her, but she’s hard not to like.”
I keep my thoughts to myself in fear of ruining the moment, but I am happy in a way. I like Stasia and I like spending time with her, but I love Kelly, and I want to spend my life with her. Hopefully, with any luck, things can stay civil.
We walk along the beach, leaving our footprints in the sand and our fingers laced in each other’s. The public portion of the beach is behind us now. At the entrance to the private beach area that belongs to the vacation house we are renting, I pause to look back on the views.
“How would you feel about living in a place like this someday?”
“It’s beautiful,” she says. “I have no idea what I would do here, but it’s beautiful.”
“What do you mean?”
“For work. I don’t know what I would do if I left The Rock Room. I’ve been there so long and worked my way up, so I’m not sure what I would do next.”
“You wouldn’t have to do anything.” I take a seat on the sand and pat the ground next to me. She leans down then sits in front of me. Her back rests against my chest and I wrap my arms around her.
“But I’d want to. It’s just who I am. I like working. I don’t enjoy sitting around with nothing to do.”
I can’t see how anyone would pass up the opportunity to spend their days relaxing by the pool and enjoy a life with no schedule, no deadlines and no one to answer to. But that’s not Kelly. She likes being relied on. She likes having something to do.
“Do you remember the project we did all those years ago? We created futures for ourselves.”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling at the thought. I lean forward and rest my chin on her shoulder. “I was a famous rock star and you were a CEO.”
“That was the dream.” Her voice is quiet. “But it only came true for one of us, Blake.”
I always thought Kelly was happy with where she was and what she was doing. She’s never said otherwise.
“I still believe there are doors out there for me to open. I’m not going to spend my days on a beach somewhere until I know I have tried to unlock every single one of them.”
I didn’t think it was possible to love her any more than I already did but I’ve never felt more admiration for somebody than I do in this moment. She never backs down from a challenge, never settles and never lets anything get handed to her without earning it for herself. I can’t help but feel inspired by her.
She turns so she’s facing me and puts her legs over mine, one on each side of my body. In the distance, a live band plays. Their soft tunes echo to where we sit. She puts her hands on my shoulders and sways a bit, like we’re slow dancing under the moon’s spotlight without really moving at all. As she moves to the far-off beat, I put both my hands at her waist and pull her in closer to me, taking all her bodyweight onto my lap. She places a palm at my neck and her fingers find my hairline as she pulls herself against me, leans in and bites at my bottom lip. In return, I kiss her with a heated passion as warm as the air around us.
She slides her hands down my chest and stops at my waist, where she unclips my belt buckle and undoes the button on my jeans.
A smile presses at one corner of my mouth and my neck grows hot. She leans forward and grabs the hem of my shirt, then pulls it over my head. Her tongue and lips trace every inch of my skin as she works her way down my jawline, my chest, and my abdomen.
“What are you doing?” My tone is playful but yearning. She stops for a moment and looks up at me with glistening, flirtatious eyes and whispers, sounding out every syllable, “Whatever. You. Want.”
That is all I need to hear. I laugh, help her up and we’re off to our Miami accommodation.
The beach, the shower, the balcony… Kelly is determined to christen every surface of this vacation home. We moved all the lavish pillows and overstuffed comforters from the four-poster canopy bed out onto the balcony. We lay together among the gold fabric under the sparkling stars and explore each other’s bodies like it’s the first time. We fight time, trying to make it stop, to stay still in this moment where there was no one or nothing else. The world is quiet. Our moments are our own. And for the night, we adopt nocturnal habits where we loved under
the light of the moon and find sleep only once the sun rises again.
* * * *
Backstage at the venue, musicians from different bands walk around answering questions from the allowed media and saying hello to old friends whose paths haven’t crossed in a while.
“Your girlfriend is the scariest person I know,” Stasia says as she tunes her guitar.
“That’s because you haven’t really met Natalie yet,” I add. Xander laughs and shakes his head. Stasia’s eyes widen at the words and she looks back and forth between Xander and I, trying to figure out if we’re kidding or not.
“I felt like I was on a job interview,” she adds as Cooper joins us in the backstage area.
“How are you feeling, Stasia?” he asks, sweat beading at his brow, partially from the Florida heat, but I think he’s nervous too. We haven’t had a fifth member in a long time.
“I…I don’t think I can do this…” She looks at Cooper with alarm in her eyes and terror in her words. “There’s just so many people.”
Cooper places his hand at the back of his neck and exhales loudly. The pacing will start any second. This isn’t our first rodeo with a preshow Cooper breakdown.
“Stasia—” he starts and turns toward us with eyes lost somewhere between pissed and empathetic. She bursts out laughing, then Xander does too, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “You were perfect,” he says to her between laughs.
“You—” Cooper searches for the words. He nods and bites his lip. “Okay, okay. That was good. You got me.”
He walks away and leaves us behind to laugh like school children.
“If he didn’t hate me before, he does now.” Stasia flips her short wave of hair to the opposite side.
“Oh no, he doesn’t hate you.” I shake my head. “If anything, you just solidified your part in the band. You’re one of us now. But he can and will retaliate, so watch your back.”
Though she had been joking before, she does seem nervous to take the stage with us for the first time. The house lights are down, and the stage sleeps under a dead black. As we head to the center of the stage, I turn to see that Stasia hasn’t stepped forward with the rest of us.
“You okay?” I have to raise my voice over the music the venue is playing.
“Just taking it all in.” She peeks through the curtain and assesses the thousands of people on the other side. They chant our name and scream for us to get the show started. She turns toward me and throws one thumb over her shoulder. “Is it always like this?”
“Every damn time.”
She inhales deeply and lets it out.
“Are you coming or not?” Dom asks as he jogs toward us. “No reason to be nervous.” He winks as he delivers the jab.
“I don’t get nervous.” She steps past him, leaving the apprehensive version of herself in the wings of the stage. As I make my way out to join the band, I see Dom’s hand leave Stasia’s lower back. Maybe she did need a gentle push, physically and mentally, after all.
“Miamiiiiiiii,” Xander says into the microphone. “Damn, you are a lucky group.”
The crowd flirts back, whistling and applauding as they hang on to every word he speaks.
“We have a special show planned for you, Miami. Joining us tonight, for the first time live, Miss Stasia Marquette!”
The fans in the crowd give a booming, bold welcome to Stasia as the spotlight falls over her.
“I’m going to let her start us off for our first song.” Xander has his lips against the microphone. “Do you know why?”
The crowd yells a ‘why’ in unison, playing perfectly into the track Xander is laying down for them. “I said, do you want to know why, Miami?”
Their response grows to an unmeasurable volume. If we were in a building, the walls would tremble. Instead, their noise fills the sky like a thunderstorm.
“Because she’s just that damn good!” He turns and points to her. The house lights drop, leaving only the spotlight that follows Stasia as she strikes the guitar, leading us into the song. The lights brighten again as the rest of the band joins in.
I join Stasia at mid stage, our guitars facing each other so close they could kiss if our strumming hands weren’t keeping them apart.
It’s clear in that second, in those notes, that this band was meant to have five musicians. We got by without Julian, but having someone as talented as Stasia join us finally gave these love stories we sing the happy ending they deserve.
After the show Kelly meets me backstage. Despite the material of my shirt sticking to my skin from the sweat that soaks me, she throws her arms around my neck. I forgot how much I missed her awaiting embrace at the end of a good show.
I wrap my arm around Kelly, ready to take her back to my room of the vacation home, but Stasia catches my attention on the way out.
A tall, thick man in a black button-down shirt and pants looms over her, saying something I can’t hear. She tries to step past him, and he grabs her wrist. The grimace on her face is a mix of pain and frustration.
“Go check on her.” Kelly steps toward the band and Cooper.
“Do we have a problem here?” I step in front of the man, keeping my body beside Stasia’s. The man releases his grip on her and she rubs at the area where his hand had been. Xander joins at her other side, crossing his arms over his chest. Dom steps in behind her, placing both his hands at her upper arms.
“I’m fine, guys. Honestly.” Her voice is withdrawn and quiet. “He was just leaving.”
“Your father isn’t going to be happy,” the man growls.
“I don’t work for him,” she says, finding her confidence. The man pulls out his phone, jams it against his ear and stomps away before the situation escalates any further.
“Who was that?” I watch to ensure he exists.
“He works for my dad at MLA,” she says. “My father isn’t super happy with my choice in bands.”
“I’d say we’re doing just fine.” Xander holds his arms up and looks around the room.
“You rejected his offer then made it big. He hates you. In turn, he’s not my biggest fan either these days.” She shrugs and walks away. Probably partly because she’s embarrassed about the whole scene, but more so because its habit for her to cut conversations about her dad short.
From what we have talked about, she never knew her real mother—some deadbeat who took off when she was born. Her father married again, a stepmother who Stasia adored but her father spent too much time and money rolling dice and got caught up in too many shady affairs to keep her stepmother interested. Losing his wife didn’t bring him home much more, though. If anything, his hours away from home increased, both in work and play, leaving a young girl to grow up without a steadfast parental figure.
She’d done all right without parents.
We both had.
Chapter Eighteen
Kelly sits up in our bed with her glasses perched on her nose. She usually wears contacts, but I won’t lie, there’s something I love about her in glasses. Her hair is wildly knotted at the top of her head. She chews on a pen, clicking through a website on her laptop.
“Maybe I’ll go back to school.”
“Go back to school then.” I click the buttons on a stupid game on my phone.
“I don’t know, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just stay at The Rock Room.”
“Stay at The Rock Room then.” My voice doesn’t fluctuate or change. I click a few more buttons, keeping my eyes on the game in front of me.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” She closes the laptop with more force than necessary.
“I am listening. School. Rock Room.” She reaches over and grabs my phone out of my hands, sending my virtual race car off the track and into a wall where it goes up in flames. “That was my best time, you know,” I say, and she laughs. She tries to be serious and attempts to keep a straight face, but she can’t.
“Blake, c’mon. I’m trying to talk to you about something.” She tries to regain her st
ern disposition. She would be a garbage poker player. “I want you to help me decide what to do next.”
“I’ve been nothing but supportive. I told you. You want to go back to school? Go back to school. You want to stay at The Rock Room? Stay there. You want to retire at thirty-one and never work again? I’m all for that.”
She stands up, walks over to her laundry basket and pulls clothes from the pile. We somehow wash and dry clothes, but they never find their way back to a drawer. It’s a perpetual dance. Wear. Dirty. Wash. Dry. Fold. Laundry basket. Wear again. Dirty. Wash. Dry. Laundry basket. Wear again. Repeat.
“I don’t just want you to support me, Blake. I don’t want you to just agree. I want your opinion. I want you to know what you’re supporting.”
Sigh. A literal, loud, audible, no-holding-back kind of sigh. I can’t say anything right.
“I just want you to be happy.” I climb out of the bed and join her on the other side of the room. She runs her fingers down my chest then leans up and presses her mouth to mine. I kiss her lips, down her jaw and at her neck then push against her until we’re backing up together, finding the bed and crashing into it.
“I am happy,” she whispers. “With you I’m happy. Right now, everything is going well for us. Everything is perfect. But I want that kind of happiness and perfection in other aspects of my life too. I want to love my career like I love you. I want to be as confident in the rest of my future as I am in the one I see with you.”
“Okay then.” I wipe my hair from my forehead and leave the bed.
“Where are you going?” she says through a light laugh.
I return with a deep-colored lipstick and stand in front of the mirror. “You don’t need this, right?” I hold up the tube. She hides her smile behind her hand and laughs a muffled sound.
Drawing a line down the center of the mirror with the lip color, I mark one side ‘pro’ and one side ‘con’.
“Let’s do it.” I stand at the mirror like a teacher at a blackboard. “Pros and cons of going to school or staying at The Rock Room or whatever. Right here, right now.”