by Scott, S. L.
A week later, this whole sneaking around thing is starting to wear on me. I snapped at him when he suggested we spend our free time grabbing a cheesesteak across the city. Looking back, I can blame Aunt Flo, but I think it was really that I just wanted to be alone with him, curled up in bed, talking or not, just being together.
Tulsa loves a promise, a challenge, and the chase when it comes to me. Although I’m a fan of him and his music, I’m not just a groupie. I think he respects me more for being who I am with him.
Sometimes, he’s tired and wants to sleep after a show when all I want to do is get naked. Why is he not ravaging me like I want to sex him up? I can’t figure out what he’s waiting on. Some great signal? A message from God? I’ve given him verbal and physical permission more than a few times, but he still insists on waiting.
“I don’t understand why we’re waiting,” I say, twisting the towel around my head with my wet hair trapped inside.
He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, but he never does. He will, though. For me, if I insist, which I am. “You want the truth, Nikki?”
“That’s such a bizarre question.” Throwing my arms up in the air, I stomp toward the window where he’s been standing since he got out of the shower. “Of course. I don’t want you to lie to me.”
With a towel hanging low on his hips, it’s as if he’s torturing me on purpose. I walk my fingers up his back, and he turns to look at me, drinking me in, fucking me with his gaze.
That’s why it makes no sense that he won’t do the deed.
Reaching, he pulls me around until my back is against his chest. I stand exposed to the night sky and the mountains in my black bra and panties.
With his clean-shaven jaw lowered to my ear, he whispers, “Because I care about you. I like whatever this is between us, and I don’t want to blow it.”
I turn in his arms, wrapping them around his neck. “You can’t blow this. I’m already in too deep.”
Leaning his forehead against mine, he closes his eyes. “In. Too. Deep.”
I cup his face and whisper, “That’s why we can be together.”
“Sex with you will be different. That means I have to be different. This isn’t a night of fun. It will be fun, but it matters. You matter to me, Nikki.”
It’s becoming clear. The playboy can be played because his heart is on the line for the first time. He’s not only deep into me, but deep into vulnerability. His truth is not only heard in his words but seen in his eyes. “The only sex you’ve ever had has been meaningless.”
“I’ve been able to walk away the next day without regret or shame.”
“If you walked away from me, you’d feel both?”
Touching my cheek, he gives me a small smile. “Don’t you see, my queen? There won’t be any walking away for me.”
And there it is, clear as can be. I matter.
Sex with me matters because he’s never made love before. That’s what we’re creating through our connection and chemistry—love.
We didn’t talk about getting hurt or how it would be so easy to hurt each other because it’s too late. We both already have our hearts on the line.
I know the time will come for us to take the last step, and I can’t complain about our current sexual activities. I’ve never felt better about my body. He treats me like the queen he calls me and my body as a temple he kneels before, offering himself nightly.
As we become more of a couple, he calls me out if I’m rude or demanding just like I call him out when his moods get the better of him.
There are good days and bad days. And then there are Tulsa days. Those are my favorite. Our days off between shows are spent exploring whatever city we’re in—seeing the Opryland hotel in Nashville and strolling down Music Row. We kissed while on the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City the other day, and this morning, we raced up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art next to the Rocky statue in Philly. It’s amazing to be in such public places and still feel like our dates are very cloak and dagger.
I didn’t fall magically under his spell the moment we met. But I fell quickly after. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot at first, but we’ve been getting off together ever since in every place we meet up.
Except for the final deed. I’ve come to understand his thoughts on the matter, and I agree. We’re having a damn good time right now and don’t need to rush to the next stage. I want our first time to be like the time we’ve spent together getting to know one another—sober, filled with purpose, full of life and happiness.
Some days, pretty much every day, I’m weaker. There’s no shame in the Crow game; he’s damn sexy. Grabbing him, I drag him into a closet backstage. “How are you holding it together when I’m about to combust?” I ask while rubbing myself shamelessly against him.
While he sits on a crate of cleaning supplies, I straddle him, and he grabs my ass to help me find the friction I’ve been searching for. “It’s all a part of the plan, darlin’.”
I want to hump his face I’m so horny. I’ve been Tulsa-blocked by my brother the past two nights while we worked on the songs for the album.
When I rub over Tulsa’s erection, I cock an eyebrow. “How’s that plan working for you?”
“It’s not.” He laughs but keeps it low so we’re not discovered. “We’ll find a way. We’re heading to Vegas in a week, and we’ll have some time off. I intend to make the most of it.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“I prefer you wear nothing at all.” I kiss him quickly and then turn to sneak out, wiggling my hips. He adds, “God, I love that ass.”
“It’s all a part of the plan, darlin’,” I purr the last part.
“Goddammit, get back here.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me into the closet until my chest hits his. “You know what that does to me.”
“I do,” I reply unapologetically, leaving him with a hard-on to rival my horniness and a smile on his handsome face. “I learned from the best after all.”
* * *
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”
“You sound more than happy. You sound like you’re falling in love, Nik.”
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.” Even though I don’t have to lie to my best friend, I do because he should be the first one to know. I am in love with Tulsa Crow, but is it too soon? “Act normal when you meet him. Okay?”
She laughs. “Don’t worry. I won’t give your secret away.”
“What secret?”
“That you’re in love,” she singsongs.
“Stop that. No teasing me. This is new, and I don’t want to jinx it.”
“You’re so superstitious.”
“Because every time I’ve felt this happy in the past, something bad happened.” I swallow the lie I don’t want to hide behind and tell the truth. “I do love him, Lauralee, but I haven’t told him.”
“Tell him. Take the risk and tell him. I bet you’ll be surprised this time.”
Take the risk. Something I did that first time we were alone together, and it paid off. “I’ll think about it.
“Business talk. The hotel will have a car waiting for you at the airport.”
“With a sign?”
“Yup, the full shebang.”
“Perks of having a famous bestie.”
The backstage door opens, and Laird whistles to get my attention. When I look, he nods inside. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m enjoying the ride.” Pushing off the wall, I stand in the sunshine a second longer. “I have to go. Sound check. Text me as soon as you get to the hotel on Friday.”
“Can’t wait to see you. Have a great sound check.”
I tuck my phone into my pocket and follow Laird inside. But he’s out of sight already, along with almost everyone else. Am I late? I run to the stairs that lead to the stage, but no one is over there either. The door I came through is still open as the roadies unload the trucks, so I head that way to find our equipment manager.
>
I hear my name coming from a room nearby, so I peek inside. “Hello?”
The lights are out, so I try to find the wall switch. “Laird, this isn’t funny. Stop being an asshol—”
A hand covers my mouth, and I’m pulled backward into the darkness.
The smell . . . The feel. . .. Oh, God.
My scream is muffled by a hand I desperately hate.
“My Nicola,” is breathed against my neck, and I stiffen. No . . . He can’t be here. “I missed you.”
Fight, Nik. Get loose. Fight.
Ignoring my fear, I twist, freeing myself from his grasp, but fall on my ass. “Stay away from me.” I crab crawl backward, not wanting to take my eyes off him. “Why are you here?”
“I missed you, Nicola.”
“That’s not my name.”
“It’s what I called you.” I always hated that he made a name he claimed was his, just like he claimed me. Property—nothing more.
I jump to my feet, but Andrés doesn’t make a move to come near me. My back hits the wall, and I say, “You can’t be here.”
“I am, though.”
“I’ll call the police. I’ll scream.”
I open my mouth ready to wail, but his hands fly up. “I’m not here to hurt you. I swear. I only wanted to see you.”
“No. Never again.” My body feels frozen to the wall, but I manage to tilt my head to the side and call for help, “Laird?”
“I swear I won’t hurt you, Nicola.”
“Stop calling me that.” I move to the doorway, ready to bolt.
His smarmy grin reminds me I’m not dealing with a nice guy despite his act. Coming toward me, he says, “I think you’ve become more beautiful since I last saw you.”
“You’ve seen me. Stay away. Don’t ever come back.” I run out the door and across the large equipment area. “Laird?” Why can’t anyone hear me? Where is Laird?
I run behind a set of Crow Brothers amps that are stacked high and look back toward the room I just escaped. There’s no sign of Andrés. Fuck. Where the hell is he?
When I’m tapped on the shoulder, I scream at the top of my lungs and jump a mile.
“What the fuck, Nik?” Laird jumps away from me, startled just as much.
“Oh, my God. Laird!” I throw myself into his arms and try to bury myself in his embrace.
“What’s wrong?”
Tears threaten, but I hold them in realizing I can’t tell him. He’ll lose it. He’ll kill him if he finds him. The tour will be ruined. I can’t do that to him or Shane. Or me. I need to calm down. I need to find peace. I need . . . I need Tulsa.
Prying me off, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I mumble and swipe at the inside corners of my eyes. Get it together, Nik. Calm down. Breathe.
“You sure? You look shaken.”
When I look into my brother’s concerned eyes, I suddenly don’t want to add to his worry. I’ve done enough of that to last him a lifetime. I lean against him and close my eyes briefly. “I’m fine.”
He rubs my back. “Okay, weirdo. This must be a girl thing that I don’t understand.” When I step back, he has a smile on his face. “We’ve already lost five minutes of our sound check time. We should get up there.”
“Okay.” Deep breath. In. Out. “Okay.”
“Nikki, c’mon.”
He runs up the stairs while I try to process what just happened. Andrés just happened.
I look at the security guard who is back in place at the door and then around the backstage area. A perfect storm for Hurricane Andrés to sneak in and out without being seen. How will I ever feel safe? If he managed to get back here, he could find me anywhere, at any time. A shiver runs up my spine, a phantom pain surrounding the dead nerves of my mutilated skin.
Never again.
Laird calls my name once more, so I go, grabbing my guitar from the side of the stage to perform a sound check. After adjusting my strap in place, I plug into the amp. Stepping up to the front of the stage, I push the pedal a few times, tap the mic, and say, “Testing. One. Two. Three. Testing,” while scanning the sea of empty seats.
Shane’s sticks are hitting the top of the snare drum, and he raises them into the air just as I look back, then he counts us in.
Three songs down and we get out of the way so the roadies can take over setting up for The Crow Brothers. I search for Tulsa when I come off stage. Where are you? I need you.
I went through the motions of the sound check, but I can’t shake the feeling that Andrés is watching me. He could be anywhere at any time. He didn’t just want one last look. He still believes I’m his. Surely, if he’d just wanted to see me, he wouldn’t have snuck in the backstage and lured me into a darkened room.
I need to find Tommy.
19
Nikki
“I need to talk to you,” I say as soon as I see Tulsa enter the lobby.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. Kind of. No, I need to talk you.”
“Here?”
“No. Somewhere private.”
“Come on.” He leads me to the elevators where his brothers and Dave are waiting.
Jet asks, “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I reply. “I just need to talk to him about . . .”
When I can’t seem to think of anything, Tulsa saves me. “It’s a song she’s working on.”
That answer seems to satisfy them as we step onto the elevator. Jet says, “Hannah and Alfie will be here shortly. I’d like you to meet them if you’re free for dinner, Nikki. We’ll all be there.”
I put on a happy face for the others even though my insides are twisted. “I’d like that. Just text me the time and place.”
My floor comes first, so Tulsa and I get off and walk in silence until we reach the door. Before I open it, he asks, “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
“Inside.”
The door lock clicks, and he’s quick. “Tell me what’s going on?”
“I need to tell you about my scar.” Dragging my clammy hands down the front of my jeans, I remind myself that this is Tulsa. He’s on my side. My scar will never heal, but maybe my soul will.
“You’re worrying me, Nikki.”
“I don’t mean to. I just . . . I just really need to get this off my chest.”
“Okay.” He sits on the end of the bed and watches me pace.
“It took me a couple of years to figure out my ex was a bad man.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“He was more than a mistake. He was a nightmare. I left when I finally came to my senses. The only problem was he wasn’t ready to let me go. He had no choice, though; I was leaving, so he decided I needed a parting gift to always remember him by.”
Tulsa’s gaze drops to where the scar remains on my body. I rip off the proverbial bandage that’s held me together for two years and bleed for him. “No matter how far I travel or who I’m with, he said I would always be his.”
I watch him stand and move to the window as tension fills the air. He crosses his arms over his chest. When I look outside, it’s too early to see the stars. Light is still shining at the skyline.
Tulsa’s soaked up a universe of nights, and the darkness now resides inside him. As the sun sets in his eyes, I’m hoping the moon rises.
Darkness prevails, owning his irises. I want his optimism and the genuine love of life that shines so brightly back, his aura that can change the mood of a room. Darkness doesn’t look right on him, and I hate that I’m the source of his upset. “What did he do to you?”
Closing my eyes, I remember everything, though I wish I’d blacked out. God, do I wish my mind had not betrayed me by being so present that day. “He threatened me and said I would be back. Then he carved his name into my skin with the tip of a pocket knife.”
It feels like an eternity waiting for Tulsa to say something, anything that will make this nightmare go away. Please say something. Please.
“But you left him
anyway. You stayed away.” Opening my eyes, I look his way, and he nods. “He was hoping you’d stay, but he knew no matter what he said or did you were leaving.”
It’s not a question, but I feel the need to confirm. “Yes,” I whisper.
He touches my cheek, and I lean into the comforting warmth of his palm. “That animal . . . He should be in prison. I can’t . . . Your brother? Your family?”
“Laird and Shane know all about it. They found me.”
“Thank fuck. And that’s why he’s so—”
“Protective of me. Yes. That’s why.”
“Okay. Give me a sec, yeah? I need to . . . fuck. You are incredible, Nikki Faris.”
He places his fingers on the scarred flesh, then falls to his knees and kisses me where he caressed. Oh, this incredible man.
He takes a deep breath and rises to hold me against his chest, and I feel so safe. I breathe him into me and feel serene. Peaceful. “We all have scars, Nik. Some people are just better at hiding them than others. But you? You are incredible. Look at what you’ve done. You survived. You get up on that stage every night and you shine. Every fucking night. And every night we spend together, I fall deeper and deeper into you.” My eyes fill with tears, and just as one falls, he says, “I love you.”
Those words are too sacred to throw around lightly, but my heart is beating against my chest, and my words come fast. “I love you.” They’re real, raw, honest, and genuine. I push myself into his arms, not caring when I finally break down in front of him.
Tulsa’s arms blanket me in his love, and I embrace him with all that I am. “I love you,” I repeat, simply because he can’t feel the poison leaving my system, the good replacing the bad. I thought I was contaminated, marred for anyone else, but the depth of his words mingling with the rising moon in his eyes gives me the hope I thought was far beyond my reach. I want to stay in his arms and hide there, but I need to tell him the rest.
“There’s more.” I step back, out of Tulsa’s arms. The world feels less scary; the wound in my heart stitched together by the guy who calls me darlin’ and says he loves me. Scars don’t matter. Trust. Respect. Love. Communication is key.