Fifteen Years Later
‘Always’ in teenager time is so not the same as literally ‘always,’ I thought to myself as I sat on the plane that was going to take me from my home in Colorado to New York City. I’d been watching a teen couple molest one another in the seats to my far left.
It was serious touching happening. If the seventeen-year-old girl that’s tangling tongues with the pimply seven-teen-year-old boy doesn’t get pregnant on this flight, it’s a miracle.
“Hey, Stud,” my girlfriend Trixie pulled at my shirt collar, “You okay?”
I looked over at her and smiled before patting her knee, “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You looked really far away.” She persisted.
I jerked my head at the couple, “Look at these two. How gross is that?”
She leaned forward to peek and smiled. “Aww, don’t be a prude, they’re cute.” She tilted her head, “It’s called affection.”
I gave her knee a squeeze, “I give you affection.”
“Sure,” she smiled and shook her head before sitting back and resuming her reading of the paranormal romance she’s been glued to.
Trixie is in a word, gorgeous. Long auburn hair that’s streaked with royal blue highlights for an edgy look. Her eyes are a heavy brown and even her flaws are beautiful. She has tattoos everywhere and her tongue is pierced. She’s a sexy rock star; with curves in all the right places, especially her hips.
“Hey,” I pinched her earlobe and she curled her shoulder, “What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned.
She winked at me, “It’s all good, Stud,” she smiled then returned to her book.
I snatched it and tilted my head, “Tell me.”
“You know how you are. You hate public affection. Always have. I’ve just learned to accept it.”
“People like those two are just plain rude, Trix. If you really love someone you don’t have to eat their face in public.”
She held her hand out, “Can I have my book back?”
“No,” I set it under my arm, “And I don’t hate public affection, I just think there’s a line.”
“Sure,” she said again. I hate that, “So…what were you looking at them for? What were you thinking about?”
I glanced they’re way. I was thinking about fifteen years ago when I told my parents the truth and in the same night, I told the boy I’d been dating for a year that I loved him. That typically led to making me think about the disasters that followed and I didn’t want to talk about those. “Nothing.” I changed the subject, “I don’t hate it.”
She smiled to herself as she read, “You’re so cute when you’re in denial.”
I sense it like I always do. Disappointment. She wants something real from me and like always, I fight the ability to give in.
“You know I love you. I’d do anything for you.”
“Except kiss me in public, hold my hand, go out for dinner-.”
I interrupted her, “I take you to dinner!”
“With the band…that doesn’t count. I mean alone. You won’t fuck outside the house-.”
“There are actual laws in place to prohibit that. So obviously I’m not the only one to feel that way.”
“Then you wouldn’t do anything for me. If I said I needed you, right now, right here, on this plane, you would say no.” She leaned close and kissed my cheek. “But that’s okay. I love you.”
I frowned, “If it was life or death, I would do it.”
She laughed, “The orgasms you give me are for the sake of life or death. If I don’t get them, I’ll die.”
“Psst!” Blaze, the Drummer in our band loomed his head between our seats and grinned at us. “Are we having a lover’s spat?” he taunts.
Blaze is a slick talker from Boston with ruddy brown hair and hazel eyes. His good looks usually land him more than a gig; they land him a lay whenever we play. He has small gauges in each ear and a fading accent.
“Don’t be nosey,” Trixie tells him before smacking him in the face with her book. “Shoo. Go on. Go sit.”
“Adam!” Blaze, shouted in a whisper, “Control your woman!”
Trixie swatted him again, “Blaze! Get back in your seat!”
“She’s bitchy because she needs sex,” Blaze let me know. “That or she’s on the rag.”
I turned in my seat to shove him before Trixie could claw his face off. “Shut the fuck up, Blaze!” I warned.
Diego, our bass guitar player loomed over Trixie’s seat and winked at me, “Wouldn’t hurt to show a little,” he made kissing sounds with his pink lips. “TLC, amigo.”
I felt frustrated but Trixie just smiled and went back to reading. I observed her a second when Diego and Blaze went back to whatever the hell they were doing before they dropped in to annoy us.
Trixie is doing that thing she does. It’s a subtle call for sex. She lets the shoulder in her white tank slip down to reveal her bra strap. It’s the same color as her highlights; blue. Then she crosses her legs so her short and ruffled, black skirt hikes up. I don’t think she means to do it, but she knows skin is my weakness.
Now I’m watching every move she makes, even her breathing. “How long till the flight ends?” She asks looking up.
I pretend I wasn’t staring and look at my watch, “An hour.”
“Think I’ll go freshen up then,” she says standing up. I pulled my legs in and sat up more so she could scoot by.
She stopped half way down the aisle to talk to Knox, our accordion and keyboard player and Diego and Blaze take this as an opportunity to piss me off some more.
“Psst!” Blaze hisses, “Psst! Eh! Pop! Stop being lazy and go screw Ma.”
Diego started laughing like an idiot.
Ma and Pop are what the band call us because we tend to feel like the mom and dad of the group. I’m the lead singer and guitar player and Trixie is my backup vocals and plays the harmonica and tambourine. However, it’s also just because we are the responsible ones.
“Mind your own God damn business, Blaze,” I said as I set my head back.
Diego butted in, “Keep neglecting her like that, she gonna find it somewhere else. She’s dropping you hints.”
I thought about that. “Trix, knows I love her.”
Blaze looked to Diego, “That’s what he’ll tell himself when she leaves his sorry ass and he’s left to jerk off alone.”
I tried to block out what they said but it wouldn’t stop echoing in my brain.
“You do realize she was signaling you for sex, right?” Blaze added. “That whole conversation was woman code for, ‘fuck me.’ If you don’t go you’ll fail one of her little tests.”
Diego spoke up again, “Yes! Yes, so when you say, ‘what’s wrong, Baby?’ she’ll give you that four letter word they all use that means ‘I hate you’.”
Blaze nodded, “You know what that word is, Adam? When you ask ‘what’s wrong’ in a few hours, she’ll say… I’m ‘fine.’”
Diego shivered, “Damn, amigo that word given me some chills.”
I groaned and got up, mostly to get away from their crackling and also because now I’m worried my robotics might actually be a problem.
Knox put his hand up to high five me as I went by, “Welcome to the mile high club, Pop!” He rejoiced.
I sent him a look but ignored him and went to the back of the plane. I don’t want to lose Trixie. She’s my everything. My inspiration, my partner, my future.
I knocked.
“Just a second,” she called through the door.
“Trix, it’s me. Open up.” No one else on the plane seemed to even notice since I whispered.
She opened the door a few seconds later and before it was even open all the way I pressed her back and wedged my way into the tight little space.
She frowned. “What are you-?”
I didn’t let her finish. Instead, I forced my mouth down on hers and slammed her against the wall. Pressing my body into hers, I pushed my hands up her tank t
o feel the softness of her skin.
“Whoa, Stud,” she panted as she held my shoulders, “We’re in a public space, remember?”
“Yeah, so don’t scream,” I said before yanking her tank up and off. I pressed her harder into the wall and flicked up her skirts before opening my pants and tugging her panties aside so I could glide into her. I didn’t even have to check, she’s wet and slick for me like I expected and her sounds are far from quiet.
I knocked into her so forcefully I felt like the plane rocked with us. I buried my face in her neck to bite and lick at her as she gripped my scalp and pulled at my hair.
This is us. This is what we usually look like. Hot and lustful. I made her come by playing with her clit at the same time and to keep it quick I let myself come at the same time. Three cheers for birth control pills and no condoms.
“See,” I whispered in her ear, “I don’t hate it.”
She laughed then started cleaning herself up. “You are so weird.”
I kissed her with promise then bit her lip before leaving. Of course my band had plenty of jabs to make about my absence.
Chapter Two
TRIXIE
Adam Ryder might be the death of my heart but it’s my heart so I can put it at risk if I want. He’s dangerous with those unwavering brown eyes and thick dark brows. His chocolate colored hair is like satin and his body is like utopia. He’s tall and cut and his demons make him irresistible. No matter how many times I tell myself this won’t end with ‘I do’ I just keep trucking. I can’t quit Adam Ryder, and if he was all the things I wanted him to be I probably wouldn’t want him so bad.
If he was outward about his affection, silver-tongued about his feelings and forthcoming with all his secrets, I don’t think we’d be so hot. His mystery keeps him intriguing but even I know more than most.
An hour later when we landed in New York City, I had to stop and take it in. We made it.
Our group took two cabs to our new place. Adam gave me the window seat and he sat in the middle between Blaze and I. Blaze has a thing for me and even though we are all tight, he gets handsy sometimes.
“Adam,” I took his hand and pressed my nose to the glass, “Look, it’s Time Square!”
“I see it.” He said stiffly, looking for only a brief moment. He pulled gently from my hand because that’s too much for public.
“Wait,” The cab driver swung his gaze from the road to his rearview mirror. “I know you folks from somewhere.”
Adam smiled, “I’m sure you do.”
Blaze sat forward. “You know the song Edge of Rustic Road?”
The cab driver hit a red light but slammed the breaks a bit hard. “No fucking way!” He turned himself completely around and we laughed. “You’re Riders of the Beat! I listen to you guys all the time! Listen,” he turned to hurry and bring up the volume of his radio. Our voices and instruments poured through the speakers and made all of us laugh with excitement.
I hugged Adam’s arm as he explained, “Yeah, we blew up overnight it seems. One minute we were playing in a bar and next thing I know we have gigs all over. We were found by a talent scout from this big school; Arts & Hopes. Now here we are.”
The cab driver found a really banged up notebook and a pen, “Alright, alright, let’s go. Sign it. I want all three a ya.”
I squealed as Adam passed it to me first. “We’ve only done this a handful of times!” I said wiggling in my seat.
“So, where you hail from originally then?” Asked the cabbie.
Adam explained while Blaze and I signed. “Little town in Colorado.” He said. “This is our first time out of the state.”
The cabbie raised his brows, “Never been out of the state and you pick NY as your first choice of exploration, eh?” He chuckled in a way that made us frown. “Be ready for a culture shock.”
Adam signed the paper, “Do you like it here?”
“I love it here but I’m from here. Takes a certain breed to survive New York. Gotta tell ya, though the place sucks you in. If you ain’t a New Yorker this City will make you one soon enough.”
Adam lifted his shoulder before handing him the notebook back, “Small town living isn’t where you grow. Not enough breathing space.”
“Oh, then you came here to change?”
I looked to Adam.
Adam sent the cabbie a strange message with his eyes, “Something like that.”
“No worries then, bud. This place is about moving forward, even if ya get trampled in the process.”
He turned back around in time for the light to change to green. The traffic is insane. We arrived at our new apartment around forty minutes later. This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home but with Adam at my side, I feel sure about my choices.
“So where you gonna be working?” The cabbie asked as we got out and Knox and Diego’s cab came to a stop behind us.
I stuck my head in the passenger side, “So the talent scout, Elijah Lane got us working at a club called, Rebel Vision! We have a contract for a year and a half! We’ll be their live entertainment four days of the week! It’s awesome!”
He narrowed one eye at me, “Club Rebel Vision? The one that used to be an old warehouse?”
Adam was getting our stuff out of the trunk and talking with the guys. I felt the warning coming before the guy spoke it. “Don’t like that one?” I asked.
The cabbie was an older guy but he seemed vibrant like he didn’t mind the atmosphere of nightlife so what did he have against the place?
He glanced back at Adam while he was shouldering his duffle and pulling the guitar case strap over his shoulder, “The club is owned by a guy that’s some pretty bad news.”
“Trix!” Adam barked. “You wanna grab your own shit or…?”
Adam’s snappy behavior made me bitchy so I ignored him and gave a chin lift to the cabbie, “The guy who runs it gave us the contract, a Mr. Urban.”
The cabbie raised his brows, “Just be careful. He’s got more black marks than Satan. People in the slums call him the ‘Urban Legend.’ He’s a real piece a work.”
“Trix!” Adam shouted.
I stood from the window and gave the guy a wave as Adam came up to pay him. “Thanks, man,” said Adam.
I went around to get my stuff but Knox had a bunch of it for me. “Aww, thanks,” I told him.
Knox is tall and willowy with shoulder length black hair and a very raspy voice. He usually wears a newsboy cap and is the quietest of us all.
“No, problem, hon,” he told me before handing me my duffle. We all trucked up the steps and took the elevator to our new apartments. They happen to be side by side. The boys will be crowding into one and Adam and I get the other.
Upon coming in we split so the guys go to get settled and Adam and I do the same. He and I walked in shoulder to shoulder after Knox handed me my things and we both stare openly at the new place.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “That’s what I was gonna say.”
The place is awesome! It’s a loft apartment with painted concrete floors and brick walls. The kitchen is the first thing you see, and it has a tiny island with six old barstools around it. The ceiling has three big bulbs hanging for light and the shelves over the appliances are made of unfinished wood. It’s cramped but cozy and there are iron stairs leading to the open loft. Looks like when they said ‘fully furnished’ they meant it. There was a massive desk up there and a fairly large bed. The furniture was old as the hills but it was in okay shape.
I turned to Adam and jumped up and down in glee.
He laughed as he shut the door, “This is really not the level of success that I plan to shower you in.” he reminded.
“This is fantastic. How could you say that?”
“It’s only a few feet bigger than our apartment was.”
“You are the one that likes modern and sterile; I like cozy and tight spaces.”
“I thought women like diamonds,” he said dr
opping his stuff. “Diamonds and suburb homes and shit like that. Not broken down lofts with-.”
I jumped on his back to cut him off, “Shut up.” I said in his ear before biting the lobe. “Let’s christen the counters.”
He laughed and bent to get a better hold on me, “Later, we need to explore first. Get unpacked.”
“Our belongings fit in one to two duffle bags. It can wait.” I started to unbutton the top of his shirt and he sighed and I paused. “Okay,” I stopped and patted his chest before climbing down, “Not exactly the response a girl wants.” I picked up my bags and started up the steps.
“Later Trix, I didn’t say no, I said later.” He came up the steps behind me and tossed his bags down. I flopped down on the bed and he came to stand over me.
With gentle fingers he unzipped my long black boots and dropped them to the floor before lying down next to me.
A long silence filled the space before he reached over and held my hand. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m no fun.”
I turned my head to find him watching me. “You’re just… you.”
“I’m working on it okay?” He sat up on his side to put his head in his hand as he looked down at me. “I am.”
“Is there a reason you have to work on it? Am I boring or-?”
“You know I don’t think that. Sometimes I just don’t want to.”
“Are you sure it’s not…?” I tickled my fingers over his shortly trimmed beard. It was dark, but his eyes were still the focus. It was a suggestion from a manager we had that he line his eyes with liner. Women love dark looking men and I have to admit, I think Adam’s eyes got us more gigs than most but he doesn’t need to line them, his lashes are that thick. “I just hope it’s not because…”
He got annoyed, “What?”
“Am I… enough?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Do you ever kind of wish I were…do you need-?”
Instantly put off, he stood up and left me. He grabbed his phone from the bed where it fell out of his pocket and walked away.
“Adam? Don’t get mad.”
“You know what?” he turned on me, “Fuck you, Trix. Fuck it! Ten years should tell you the answer to that.” He went down the steps as I sat up.
The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4) Page 2