by Amelia Mae
Shawn and Aya are glued at the mouth, as per usual these days. They’ve always been handsy with each other, but the newlywed status has given them license to ramp it up even more. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aya is pregnant by the end of this show.
Dylan is no doubt in the dressing room doing his pre-show self-torture. His girlfriend, Jane, is roaming around sipping a drink. She looks like she doesn’t quite know where to be.
“Dylan’s off doing his thing?” I ask her.
“Yeah,” she answers, looking relieved that she no longer has to stand alone awkwardly. “I still don’t know what he does in there. He says it’s a secret.”
“I don’t either. I think maybe chanting. Or singing kumbaya.”
She laughs.
“Maybe just rocking back and forth, muttering to himself,” I add.
“He doesn’t need to be locked in a dressing room for that. He’s been doing it all the time at home.”
“I’m sure. He’s been moody at rehearsal.”
“A little.”
Dylan was the hardest sell on postponing the tour. I can tell that he’s not completely sure that we made the right decision. But Jane helped a large part in helping him come around. She may be the newest member of our little group, but I feel like I owe her a lot.
“I don’t know how you put up with him,” I joke.
She rolls her eyes. “Me neither. I guess I just love him.”
“That’s sweet.”
I’m about to take another crack at our singer when a woman walks into the backstage area in a leather jacket and red dress. My jaw drops.
Cora.
In a red dress.
That red dress.
As she walks towards me, I feel like I’m being transported to that night all those years ago. The same rush of want coursing through my veins. The same fierce attraction. And the nervous energy and need to impress her.
Especially since I have a surprise for her.
“Thank you, Los Angeles,” Dylan screams to the crowd.
We’ve wrapped up In the Darkness, playing it in front of an audience for the first time and they seemed to like it.
“We’ve got one last song we want to play for you tonight,” he says. “It’s an old one, but one of my favorites.”
I’m sure that the crowd expects to hear the intro to Her Name in Stars as it’s Dylan’s favorite song to close a show with. But we’re doing things a little bit different tonight.
“First, I want to say that we’ve got a special guest here tonight,” he tells the audience. Fresh off My Hero’s world tour, Rafael Vastro is joining us on drums.”
From stage right, Rafael bounds out to join us, waving at the crowd and basking in their adoration. My Hero is technically more famous than Say Yes, so he’s used to crowds going nuts over him. But he soaks up the energy nonetheless.
I get up from my set and hand my sticks to our guest drummer. He accepts them with a casual nod and plays a little riff to show the audience that he means business.
Dylan picks up a guitar from a stand, intending to play rhythm for this song.
“So, as you can see, it looks like we’re in need of a singer,” Dylan teases.
I step up to the mic and take it from the stand.
“Hello, LA,” I shout, trying to match Dylan’s volume and energy. Okay, mostly I’m trying to keep my voice from breaking like a teenager.
But the cheers are deafening.
“A couple years ago, I wrote a song about a girl that I desperately wanted,” I tell them. “And now… that girl is my wife.”
They yell even louder.
“And we’re going to play that song for her tonight,” I announce. “And… I’m going to sing it.”
Fuck, they nearly blow the roof off the place.
I look to the wings to where Cora is standing, and her eyes are bugging out of her head.
She mouths ‘you?’
“So I hope I don’t fuck it up too badly,” I say with a nervous laugh. I cue the guys to start the intro. “This is called Spin the Bottle. And it’s for you, Cora.”
.
Eighteen
Cora
“Fuck,” Ian hisses in my ear.
I’m pressed up against the door to the hotel room, and Ian’s trying, and failing, to get the door open with the key card. I think he’s putting it in upside down, but he’s too crazed out to know why it isn’t working.
But his body is flush to mine, his hard cock digging into my hip, and his lips are on my neck, biting and sucking. I almost don’t care if we make it inside. Except that this place is probably crawling with security cameras and we’ve been through that kind of thing.
I pry the card from Ian’s hand and open the door properly. We get inside and I’m quickly pinned up against it again. I grab Ian and kiss him hard, like I want to suck the lips off of his face.
“Fuck. That dress,” he groans.
“Thought you might like it.”
“Love it.”
My hands are under his shirt, and I drag it up over his sides.
“I borrowed it from Aya again,” I whisper.
“She’s not getting it back.”
Ian tosses his shirt on the floor, and we continue to make out until I’m gasping for air. I swear, I feel almost high off of him. He pulls back. He’s got an expression on his face that makes me think he’s up to something.
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and looks at the little desk across from the bed.
“That’ll work,” he assesses.
And in one foul swoop, he’s got me off my feet and on the desk, my dress up around my hips and my legs spread. He kisses me again.
“I love you, Cora,” he husks out. “So damn much.”
Before I can tell him that I love him too, my husband is on his knees in front of me. He grips my waist and kisses my inner thigh, trailing his lips closer and closer to where I need him.
“Ian,” I gasp. “God. Please.”
I let my head roll back. My hands are in his hair, grabbing and pulling at his thick black locks until his lips are finally on me. His tongue circles my clit. He groans against me, the vibrations only making me hungrier. Needier.
“Please…”
He swirls his tongue around my clit, increasing speed and pressure. My eyes close. I tug at his hair and grit out his name over and over again.
He sucks on my clit, and I make a low, grunting noise that can’t be attractive, but Ian doesn’t seem to care.
“Come for me,” he whispers against my thigh. “Baby, come on.”
“I…”
He dives back down again, this time working my clit with his thumb and circling my entrance with his tongue. I let go of his hair and grip the sides of the desk, just needed to hold onto something.
“Tell me you love me,” he hisses against my skin.
“I love you, Ian.” My voice is hoarse, and my breath is ragged, but I mean it.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” I seethe. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Fuck.”
Ian’s eating me out like he’s got something to prove.
“Want you so bad, Ian,” I moan. “Please.”
He growls against me.
“Ian… Ian… Fuck, I’m going to…”
I come hard, and Ian keeps his mouth on me the whole time, easing me through my orgasm. I breathe hard and shout his name, tears pooling in my eyes.
When I finally come to, Ian’s arms are around me, and I’m sagging against his chest. I feel a tear escape.
“Please tell me that was a happy tear,” he whispers, kissing it away.
I nod. “Happy tear. Relieved tear.”
“Good.”
I get up from the desk, undoing my dress as I gently push Ian towards the bed. I didn’t wear a bra with this dress and my panties disappeared somewhere between the door and the desk.
I lean over Ian, coaxing him to lie down and submit to me. I feel kind of power
ful and I loom over him. Like I’m about to have my way with him.
I help him kick off his jeans and boxers and let my eyes roam over his naked body. Fuck, my husband is gorgeous. He leans back into the mattress and I climb on top of him. His hands travel up my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful, Cora,” he whispers. “Welcome back.”
I gently press my lips to his, then lean in to whisper in his ear.
“Shut up and fuck me already,” I tease.
The look in Ian’s eyes changes from sweet to downright feral. Like a bull about to charge. He tightens his grip on my waist.
“Be careful what you ask for, baby,” he says.
I gasp. Before I know what happened, I’m on my back with my hands pinned over my head.
“Ian,” I practically whimper.
“I like when you say my name,” he tells me. “And I love when you scream it.”
“So make me.”
Ian slips his hand between my legs and circles my entrance with a finger.
“Come on,” I gasp. “I need you.”
He lines up the head of his cock and pushes in an inch.
“Ian. Don’t be gentle.”
I grab for his shoulders, but he doesn’t speed up.
“Cora, it’s been months. I’m hanging on by a thread here,” he admits, turning slightly pink in the tips of his ears. “I’m surprised I didn’t come with my face between your legs.”
He inches in a little more. Then a little more. Until he’s deep inside me. Fully.
I wrap my legs around him and squeeze.
“Cora,” he husks. “Baby, do that again and this isn’t going to last long.”
He thumbs my clit and picks up the pace, rolling and snapping his hips. I’m almost there too, so I squeeze around him again. He lets out a long, low groan and I feel him start to come.
“Ian,” I moan, coming apart at the seams.
My orgasm is fast and fierce, pulling me under like a strong current. Ian pulses and clutches me as he fills me, gritting out my name.
When I open my eyes, Ian is practically dead weight on top of me. Warm, comforting dead weight. He’s completely spent out and probably couldn’t move even if I wanted him to. His breath comes in warm puffs against my skin.
I hold his head in my hands and lift his face to meet mine. His eyes are teary, and he looks away, a little embarrassed.
“Please tell me that’s a happy tear,” I whisper.
I press my lips to his. It’s barely a kiss, but I feel it through my entire body.
“It’s a… you-want-me-again tear,” he admits.
Ian rolls off of me and we pull the covers up over ourselves.
“I never stopped wanting you,” I whisper. “I think I lost myself for a little while. I just felt a little… gone.”
He nods and wraps me up in his arms. I let myself relax into him, relishing in feeling so comfortable and safe.
“How do you feel now?” he asks.
“Like… I’m back home.”
Nineteen
Cora
A few more months pass and Ian and I set into a routine. Alicia starts sleeping through the night without a tantrum every few hours. Which I’m especially grateful for this morning, as I have my first audition since I had my daughter.
It’s for a young adult television drama and I would be playing a single mother who has recently given birth. The timing couldn’t have been better.
I arrive at the casting office and an assistant hands me the audition side.
“Hello, Ms. Dwyer, how are you?” the casting agent asks.
“Fine, thank you.”
“You’ve read the script, I’m assuming.”
“I have.”
I neglect to make any further comments about the script. The story is generally good, and my character is pretty well-developed. But, having gone through childbirth and a very emotional few months, I have some issues with how easy motherhood is portrayed in this show.
And I’ve learned that I absolutely hate the term ‘bounce back.’
“This is Todd Benjamin,” she says, pointing to a very dashing twenty-something actor that I recognize from the side of busses. “He’s already been cast as Peter, and we’re having you two read together to test the chemistry.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand.
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
Todd winks at me. Normally, I’d think he might be trying to flirt with me, but we’re playing best friends on the show with no sexual tension. So I’m taking it as more of a good luck gesture.
“Whenever you’re ready,” the casting agent says.
Todd clears his throat.
“So, Shelby, how are you?” he asks, completely in character. “Like, really, how are you?”
I take in a deep breath. My character, Shelby, is trying to get back to her job as a marketing associate quickly.
“I’m good,” I tell him. “Really good.”
I say the lines a little flatly. Like I’m trying to sound convincing but failing.
“I’m figuring out the work-life balance. I’ve got a new case, and I know I can crush it. And, I mean… I’m ready to bounce back.”
I say the words ‘bounce back’ like I’m tired of hearing them. What can I say, art mirrors life.
“Cut,” the casting agent says.
I look over at her, knowing that she’s probably surprised with some of my choices.
“So… you did something there,” she starts.
“I did.”
She struggles with how to articulate her criticism.
“I think that the writers were envisioning Shelby’s reply there to be a little… peppier. You know? She’s upbeat. She’s getting back in the game…”
“Almost like she didn’t even have a kid?” I ask.
“Exactly.”
I nod, swallowing hard.
“With all due respect…”
I take a deep breath, about to do something that I know an actress should never do. Question the material.
“I’m a new mom,” I tell her.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. And I doubt that most new mothers walk around with this kind of spring in their step. Being a new mom is hard. And draining. And the work-life balance isn’t something that you just figure out overnight.”
The casting agent mulls this all over.
“Shelby probably hasn’t slept since the baby was born. She’s more nervous than excited about returning to work. If she’s actually lost the baby weight, it’s probably because she’s not taking care of herself properly and she’s forgotten to eat,” I inform her. “And, let me tell you… You never go back to the way you were before the baby was born. Everything changes.”
“That’s really insightful,” Todd acknowledges.
“It is,” the casting agent agrees.
“Look, I know that this isn’t what the character requires, but I just had to say something,” I tell them.
I put the script down.
“I’ll see myself out,” I announce.
I thank the both of them and head home.
Everything is quiet when I arrive at home.
“Hello?” I ask. Maybe Ian took Alicia out for a walk around the neighborhood or something. She likes to people-watch.
“In here,” Ian replies, his voice low.
He’s in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, with Alicia asleep on his shoulder. I can’t help but smile. Despite my crappy audition, I feel really good right now. My gorgeous husband is cradling our beautiful little girl. This is what I come home to every day.
“How’d it go?” he murmurs, trying not to wake Alicia.
“Not great.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
And I am.
Unlike Shelby, I’m not just pretending that everything’s fine.
“I’m going to make some lunch. Do you want anything?” I ask.
“Su
re.” He tries to get up, but Alicia makes a pre-crying noise and he stays put. “I’d help you, but I don’t think I’m allowed.”
“Stay put,” I tell him.
Heading into the kitchen, my phone rings. It’s my agent and I answer immediately.
“Hello, Mr. Hoffman.”
“Cora, I just got off the phone with Kelly LeVine. She said that you had an interesting take on the character,” he says. I can’t tell from the tone of his voice if he’s disappointed or not. “And that you had a lot to say about it.”
I sigh. “Look, I’m so sorry that I challenged her. I know I’m not supposed to talk back, but I just thought…”
“They want to offer you the role.”
“Really?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Normally, I’d tell you that everything about your audition was exactly what you’re not supposed to do. But, in this case, it paid off.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“You have a table read for the pilot next week and rehearsals start right after that,” he says. “Good job, Cora. And congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
We hang up and I can’t believe it.
When I look up, Ian is standing in front of me, a grin on his face.
“You got it, didn’t you?” he asks.
I nod, barely able to contain myself.
He sweeps me up in a big bear hug and kisses me.
“We need to celebrate,” he announces.
Both of our eyes dart to the baby monitor on the counter.
“Quietly,” I agree.
Epilogue
Ian
I promised myself that no matter what happened on the tour, that I would be with my daughter for her first birthday. Which means that for the next few shows, we’ve got some touring drummers filling in. But I’m not worried about the band right now.
I’m more worried that my first delayed flight will affect my second flight and I’ll end up spending Alicia’s first birthday in some airport hotel alone, rather than with my wife and daughter.