Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

Jamie: Don’t most guys prefer sleeping alone?

  Ryder: I’m not most guys. I like having someone in my bed

  Jamie: Someone?

  Ryder: U James. I haven’t slept so soundly since I was 10.

  Ryder was a light sleeper, a side effect of the six months he and his mother spent cot hopping from women’s shelter to women’s shelter when they first moved to Seattle. It comforted him having someone close, and sleeping next to Jamie was the equivalent of chasing an Ambien with two shots of whiskey.

  Jamie: eyeroll I would insert an emoji, but I’m not sure if it would work on your phone.

  Ryder: Fuck u I would insert the middle finger emoji but…

  Jamie: I don’t think you thought that one all the way through. Your phone is still the butt of the joke.

  Ryder: ok smart ass. what are you doing today?

  Jamie: Kicking ass and taking names.

  Ryder: come over when ur done. we have a show tonight.

  Jamie: Is that a request or a demand?

  Ryder: It’s whichever one will get u here.

  Jamie: I’ll see what I can do.

  Ryder sighed, throwing the phone back onto the side of the bed that still smelled like her. In the span of twenty-four hours Kitty Cat impressed his mother, won over his friends, and somehow managed to make him even more pussy whipped than he already was. She was a tornado, a savage, and just when he thought they were starting to get over some of her commitment issues, she goes and runs—again. The note was something, but waking up with her would have been better.

  Standing, Ryder lifted his arms over his head, and cringed. No wonder she left, he reeked of sex and stale weed.

  As he made his way to the bathroom, images of the night before flooded his brain. Jamie’s body on top of his, the way she felt, the way she tasted, it all came rushing back around the same time the blood in his body went south. He was hard as stone, and the one girl he wanted to sink his dick into, couldn’t seem to stand his presence for longer than a few hours at a time.

  Ryder made a promise to himself as he stepped under the hot spray of the shower. The next time he had her in his bed, he was going to fuck her within an inch of her life. She’d be too exhausted to run, and he wouldn’t have to jerk off like a fucking tool. He wrapped his right hand around his shaft and began to stroke himself, thinking of Kitty Cat and the way her green eyes rolled to the back of her head when she came.

  The steam rose, thick, almost suffocating as he tugged harder, faster, losing himself in the memory. The melody of Jamie’s whimpers served as the instrumental to his solo performance.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  The baseline built in his mind as he pictured her riding his face. She tasted sweet, a combination of peaches and musk that was uniquely Jamie. He could survive eating only her for the rest of his life. He pumped up and down squeezing his shaft. The sounds of the snare crescendoed. Desire swelled in his cock as music and moans combined to orchestrate his fantasy. His stomach muscles tensed, and hot white cum shot from the tip of his dick, leaving him utterly sated.

  The moaning stopped.

  The drumming stopped.

  All that was left was the sound of the water beading down on his skin and Jamie’s voice, as she chanted.

  Sex god.

  Sex god.

  Sex god.

  Ryder’s head fell forward, and he gasped. “Fucking Kitty Cat.” She inspired him even when she wasn’t around. Sex God was fucking genius, and it could be a game changer for Lithium Springs.

  It was poetry; she was art.

  Once he caught his breath he reached for the soap, and quickly washed away the remnants of his morning rub and tug. He needed to be fast. Javi would be leaving for work soon and who the fuck knew if CT was even home. The lyrics were coming to him in a rush and he wanted to get the beat out before he lost it. He finished his shower, threw on a pair of shorts and took the steps two at a time.

  Javi and CT were in the kitchen, Javi in his work overalls while CT sported the same clothes as the night before. No doubt he’d just rolled in.

  “What’s up?” Javi nodded as Ryder took a seat in the empty chair. The fourth chair had disappeared one night after one of their more epic ragers. None of them knew what happened to it. “Where’s Kitty Cat?”

  “She left a while ago,” Ryder said, trying to conceal his disappointment. They already gave him enough shit. He didn’t need them calling him a clinger too.

  “You guys should have come out with us last night. It was so much fun. I thought I was going to get alcohol poisoning.” CT grinned, looking oddly proud. “Also, I smashed Tiff. That was cool, right?”

  Ryder waved his friend off, “I don’t give a fuck.”

  “Just making sure dude.” CT narrowed his eyes at Javi. “I don’t want to be like some people and stomp all over the boundaries.”

  “Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t know Quinn was your cousin.” Javi and Quinn had hooked up randomly one night a few months earlier, and CT flipped his shit when he found his little cousin in the kitchen, straddling the bass player. It was all Ryder could do to stop World War III. Family was off limits, but to Javi’s credit, Quinn never mentioned being related to CT and he’d ended shit before it went any further.

  “Anyway,” Ryder said, in an attempt to steer the conversation back to safer waters, “I was trying to catch you before you left for work.” Javi was the only one of them with a real job. He worked at his brother’s body shop. Carlos was cool. He supported them, and gave Javi a lot of leeway to take time off for band stuff, but he never let his little brother slack off. If anything, he worked Javi harder than the other mechanics, saying their father didn’t work his entire life to raise an entitled asshole.

  “You know how we were talking about it being spring break and we needed to capitalize on students being home for Easter?”

  “Yeah,” the drummer and bassist said in unison.

  “Well, I’ve got an idea for a new song, something Jamie said,” Ryder smiled.

  CT rolled his eyes. “Nobody wants to hear that love-sick shit.”

  “One,” Ryder held up a finger, “suck my dick from the back. Two, it’s not a love song. I was thinking of calling it Sex God.”

  His friends looked at him like he was crazy. “Damn, Ry, what the fuck are you doing to that girl and can you teach me?” CT joked.

  “It can’t be taught,” Javi smirked, “you’ve either got it or you don’t.”

  “Cocky bastard.”

  “Ask your cousin how cocky I am,” Javi quipped, before realizing his mistake.

  CT moved to stand but Ryder grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him back into his chair. “When I was in the shower just now, I could hear it in my head. It was like background music.”

  “Ew, dude, were you jerking off?” CT asked, forgetting about his anger.

  “No, well yes, but that’s beside the point. It would be a great song to fuck to. C, man, I have this idea for a wicked drum solo. Hell, the whole song is heavy on percussion. It’s a pounding baseline, it’s going to change the game.”

  “It sounds dope and now would be the perfect time to start selling hats, t-shirts, and all that. Ry, you could draw a logo and the cousin-fucker can build the website.”

  “Dude,” Javi groaned.

  “I’ll look into copyrighting it all,” CT continued. He was in charge of the day to day aspects of managing the band, and Grant, his brother helped out with the rest. Their dad was a big shot corporate lawyer with a client list that read like a copy of Forbes Magazine. CT never went to college, but his upbringing and fancy prep schools taught him more about business than Javi’s technical degree in mechanics, and Ryder’s year at community college combined.

  “Do you have work today?” Ry asked.

  “Not until later,” CT said. He worked at a gym, but didn’t do much actual work, unless you called scamming pussy and lifting weights work.

  “You
good to jam for a bit or do you need to knock out?”

  “You know my motto, plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead,” CT grinned. “Let me just grab some coffee and we can get started.”

  Javi frowned, standing to take his dirty cereal bowl to the sink. “I wish I didn’t have to go. It sucks you fuckers don’t have day jobs. I always miss all the good shit.”

  “At least you have money, man. Since we started at the Rabbit Hole, I had to give up my Saturday nights at Cibo and the little bit we are getting from the door ain’t cutting it.”

  “Just have faith,” CT said, slapping him on the back. “This shit, it’s going to explode, you just gotta believe.”

  Faith was something Ryder lost years ago. His entire life was a series of bad days and storms to weather, but even he had to admit, it was all starting to fall into place. His band, his music, his art. He could almost see it, the dream Ryder dreamt since he was old enough to hold a guitar was just within reach.

  When Jamie was younger, she and her brother Chris spent weekends at their grandparents’ house. They’d run around the backyard of the massive estate for hours while their grandpa watched from the porch with the newspaper in one hand and a glass of ice tea in the other.

  Jamie loved going to her grandparents’ house. It was as much an escape for Chris and her as it was for their parents. They would play and play until their breathing was shallow and their limbs were sore.

  Then they’d run back to the porch, throw themselves on the ground and huff, “Grampy James, we’re so exhausted.” He would promptly reply with a, “You kids don’t even know what exhausted looks like,” and chuckle as they stalked into the house to harass their grandma for lemonade. Back then she didn’t get what he was trying to say. Now though, she understood his meaning crystal clear.

  In the weeks that followed the interview, Jamie settled into a routine of sorts.

  Work.

  Work.

  Work.

  And for good measure, a little more work.

  Sarah’s maternity leave increased Jamie’s workload in more ways than she could have ever imagined. In addition to finding talent, preparing interview questions, and hosting The Local Spotlight, Jamie maintained her normal roster, and even volunteered for an overnight trip to Portland. The hours were grueling, the assignments were mostly fluff pieces, but she prayed that her willingness to be a team player would force Tina to take notice.

  Exhausted didn’t even cover it. Twelve hour days at the station and one thing kept her sane. One person kept her motivated. Ryder and his Prince Albert did more to relieve her stress and anxiety than baking and her other slew of vices combined.

  Their sex was intense; her orgasms left her breathless. Even on nights when all they could manage was a lazy side fuck, he left her sated. But it wasn’t just the sex. It was him. It was the modest house that she somehow became a fixture in. Much like the table with three chairs in the kitchen, and the old sofa in the living room, Jamie’s presence in their space was a natural fit.

  One night, after a particularly long day, she arrived to the house around midnight. The guys were in the living room, hanging out with a few of the Rabbit Hole staffers, drinking and laughing. Jamie was so drained from the day, she barely had enough energy to say hello, before trudging up the stairs and falling into Ryder’s bed. An hour later, she awoke nestled between his strong arms. “Good night Kitty Cat,” he whispered, his whiskey scented breath an odd comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

  She hated those nights, the ones when she was too exhausted to think. She hated her body for taking her to his house on autopilot. She hated him for being so goddamned perfect. Most of all she hated the feeling of waking up in his arms, knowing that Ry wanted more than she was capable of giving.

  Jamie’s issues with commitment didn’t seem to deter Ryder any. In the past three weeks, he had taken her on more dates than she’d been on in two years. He was smart, never called them dates. He would say things like, “I’m sick of takeout, let’s go somewhere.” Or “Javi and I were supposed to see this movie, but he bailed on me.” What was worse than his deception was that she fell for it. She blamed her lapse in judgment on the long hours and lack of sleep.

  Once she caught on to his little game, Jamie knew she needed to make the boundaries clear.

  No more sleeping over.

  Ryder didn’t fight her on it, not much anyway. He didn’t push—he promised he wouldn’t—but he did things to make it known he wasn’t giving up. He walked her to her car every night, flash an easy smile, and with his dimples on display, he’d ask her to stay. She’d decline and he’d nod, press his lips to her temple and say, “One day.”

  Those two little words caressed her heart. They made her feel hopeful and that scared her even more than the dates. Hope was a dangerous thing for the hopeless. It was a fallacy Jamie couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to. She knew she should put a stop to it, to the entire thing, but he was quickly becoming her new addiction. The way she craved him was unhealthy, but Jamie was nothing if not consistent. She replaced her co-dependence on drinking and partying with Ryder. He wanted her heart and she was selfish enough to let him believe he could have it.

  Ryder: u know what sucks?

  Jamie rolled onto her back, grinning at the phone. Stop James, she scolded herself. It was just a text message, but seeing his name on the screen first thing in the morning made her stomach flutter.

  Jamie: What?

  Ryder: going to sleep with a hot blonde in my arms and waking up alone.

  Jamie: You’ll live.

  Ryder: but I was really hoping for some morning head.

  Jamie: It’s Easter Sunday, I’m pretty sure you aren’t allowed to talk like that.

  Ryder: Jesus died for our sins, don’t let his death be in vain.

  Jamie: You’re going to hell.

  Ryder: I’ll b sure to get the WiFi password for u when I get there.

  “What’s got you so smiley?” Kensie asked, pushing her way through Jamie’s door and plopping down on the bed.

  “Nothing.” She still hadn’t gotten around to telling her friend about Ryder. Partly because this was the first time they’d seen each other in three weeks, and partly because there was nothing to tell—well, nothing but a few mind-blowing orgasms. “Are you going to mass?” Jamie asked, motioning to the light blue sheath dress her friend wore.

  “Yes, I came in here to see if you wanted to ride with me and Trey.”

  “Wait,” Jamie said sitting up, “Trey’s going?” Taking a guy to mass on Easter Sunday, was as good as putting a marriage announcement in the paper as far as their small community was concerned. This new development could only mean one thing, Trey dropped the ‘I love you’ bomb and it detonated all over Kensington’s fairytale princess heart.

  Kensie nodded, biting down on her lip. “I figured now was as good a time as any for him to meet my parents.”

  “Oh.” Jamie was still processing Trey going to mass, and Kensie not mentioning the ‘I love you’s’. Yes, she was being a hypocrite, but Jamie never brought guys around and Kensie told Jamie everything. If anything she over-shared.

  “Come with us,” Kensie said, shooting Jamie her best puppy dog eyes. “I haven’t seen you for more than five minutes at a time for almost a month. You’re always working, and yes, I spend more time at Trey’s than I should, but I miss you.”

  Jamie missed Kensie too. It was strange being so disconnected from her. Their lives were moving in opposite directions and there wasn’t much Jamie could do to stop it. “Trey meeting your parents for the first time, that’s like a family thing. I don’t want to crash.”

  “You are family, Jam.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I hate leaving you here alone on Easter.”

  “It’s fine,” Jamie scoffed, “I’m practically Buddhist now anyway.”

  “Are you sure?” Kensie asked, her attention now on her glowing cell phone.

  “Is tha
t him?”

  She nodded, typing something out on the screen. “We can wait.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m just going to lay here and enjoy the day off. I might even attempt to make macaroons.”

  Kensie lifted her eyes from her phone, “Please don’t burn down our apartment.”

  “Get out,” Jamie smirked, throwing a pillow at Kensie’s head. She sidestepped it and wrapped Jamie in a tight hug. Kensie lingered a moment, brushing stray hairs from Jamie’s face. It felt less like see you later, and more like don’t go. “Happy Easter, Jam,” she said, searching Jamie’s green eyes for the answer to her unspoken question.

  “Happy Easter, Ken,” Jamie replied, shifting under her friend’s scrutiny. Jamie had a habit of shutting down and shutting people out, but never Kensie. She knew she was doing it, but she couldn’t help herself. It was jealousy, but for what Jamie wasn’t sure. Maybe for Trey monopolizing her time when Jamie needed a friend, or maybe it was jealousy for Kensie being able to love so freely, while Jamie struggled with letting go enough to go to the fucking movies. Whatever it was, they both felt it. The plates were shifting, and Jamie had to trust that the foundation of their friendship was strong enough to withstand the pending earthquake.

  Jamie spent the next two hours lying in bed, binge watching The Real Housewives, and sexting Ryder. She pushed her unease about her relationship with Kensie to the back of her mind, sweeping it under the same rug where she kept the rest of her emotions. It was easier to lose herself in the petty drama unfolding in Atlanta than it was to examine her own shortcomings.

  A dull buzz reverberated on her chest. Her lips twisted into a smile as she eagerly snatched up the device to see what Ryder wrote, only the buzzing never stopped. It wasn’t the text message she had been expecting, but an incoming call, from just about the last person Jamie wanted to talk to on her one day off, Caroline Manning.