“Chelsea.” She winked again.
I stepped back a bit to spread the space between us and mouthed, “Nice to meet you.”
She smiled and continued the hip thing as the song played. I looked around, for what, I don’t know. I could dance; it wasn’t something I ever had to think about, but dancing that close to Chelsea had me wondering how to dance without trying to match her sultry style. Gracie and I always danced sexy, but I didn’t want to give Chelsea the wrong idea. At the same time, I didn’t want to look like a junior high dork and just rock back and forth on my feet while she writhed all around me.
“I have a question for all of you...” Calon’s voice called out as the instrumental part of the song ended. “Whose sex is on fire?”
The place erupted into squeals and screams from what sounded like four thousand pre-orgasmic women. The guitar and drums started the song; I knew it, Kings of Leon. The beat was intense, which added to the sex feel of the song. I thought the drummer would smash his sticks through his drums. Chelsea spun around then backed up into me, one hand on each of my thighs, and held me tight against her. Shit.
I took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. I closed my eyes and let go. My hands went to her hips and my thumbs unintentionally brushed her skin at the bottom of her cropped top. Her head leaned back against my chest. I was drunk, the lights were dim, and we were starting to sweat. It was hot. I matched the rolling of her hips with mine and squeezed her sides a little. I couldn’t remember the last girl I danced with that wasn’t Jessica or Gracie. There is a certain amount of excitement that courses through a guy when he skips the niceties of chit-chat and just jumps into a sexy scene like the one that was playing out between Chelsea and me. It felt good. I wasn’t going to deny myself. I had boundaries, and it wasn’t like I was going to take her home.
Okay. Stop analyzing everything and just dance, idiot.
The songs changed a couple times, and Chelsea continued to dance around me, brushing her hands across my chest as she passed in front of me. My hands were either on her back or her hips as we absorbed the music. She reached up and ran her fingers through the back of my hair as the song changed to something slow. Our bodies were wet. Sweat soaked through my black t-shirt and my knee was throbbing. I needed to sit for a while, but Chelsea wanted to dance closer. Her hands dropped onto my shoulders, and I clasped my hands around her tiny waist. She looked up at me, and I noticed again how brown her eyes were. They were so dark, I couldn’t see her pupils, which could have been her alcohol consumption mixed with the dark room, but once again, they captured me for longer than a couple seconds.
“You want to kiss me, don’t you?”
That question slapped me back to reality. I was no longer aware of the the heat of the room or the sweat drenching the waist band of my cargo shorts. Her pouty lips and just the way she danced made it perfectly clear she could probably lay one hell of a hot kiss on me if I let her. But that wasn’t happening.
“Sorry, Chelsea, I have a girlfriend.” I smiled sweetly and unlaced her arms from around my neck. “Do you want a beer? I need another.”
She pushed out her bottom lip and shook her head. “No, thanks. But you can do something else for me.”
I was afraid to ask, but it would have been rude to just walk away. “What’s that?”
“If your girlfriend ever lets you go, look me up, okay?”
I smiled and nodded. She stood up on her toes and kissed me gently on my cheek. I walked back over to the bar just as Maverick stuck his tongue down some girl’s throat. She didn’t seem to object.
“Dude, I’m out. My knee is killin’ me.”
He nodded. “Jake, can you spot me? I got nothing in my wallet.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about money. I discreetly pulled a condom from my wallet and pulled him in for a guy hug and tucked it in the pocket of his t-shirt.
“Have a good one.” I waved over my head and didn’t wait around for some unfiltered smartass comment I knew would fall out of his mouth.
Seventeen
Gracie
Becki and I walked, and stumbled a little, across campus after our long day together. It was so peaceful on campus in the wee hours of the morning. And so eerily dark. It was nice to just hang with her all day. Our lunch date had been at Litton’s instead of the dining hall and lasted for hours, but that was two Saturdays in a row we’d held true to our pact.
“I haven’t shopped like that in probably a year.” A couple hours prior, Becki helped me into my apartment with my mounds of bags. Then we parked her car in the student lot and lugged her bags to her dorm. We’d hung out there for a while, doing shots while we talked about me, Noah, and my issues. I couldn’t wait until there was nothing left to talk about and all the Noah shit was done...over...dead. That day couldn’t come soon enough.
“Are you kidding? When I’m home, I do it every weekend.” Becki had a great aunt that had left her a ton of money when she died. I wasn’t sure how much, but every now and then, her parents would give her a chunk of it, and she’d spread it out over a couple months and fill her closets with beautiful stuff. We were close enough to the same size that, sometimes, I benefited from Aunt Jane’s early demise.
“So, we are still going to see Calon on Friday, right?” She said his name in a funny way, reminding me of her plan to have him escort her home.
“Of course.” I giggled and mimicked her drawn out voice when I answered. “Oh my word, Becki! I totally forgot to tell you!” My voice was louder than usual, and she flinched a little. “I ended up telling Jake about the night I met Calon, and he was pissed.”
“Holy shit! I totally forgot you had sex with him! Dammit, you already know all the juicy stuff I would want to tell you when he and I have sex.”
“Um, apparently your sex-soaked brain amped up my story a little bit. I didn’t sleep with Calon. We just kissed.”
She squealed, grabbed my hands, and skipped in a circle, spinning me a little faster than I was ready for. “Yay. Please let me tell you all the details. Please. Please. Can you imagine how fucking hot he is in bed? Oh my dammit! I’m gonna come just thinking about it.”
“Becki!” It never failed; she could still shock me with what came out of her mouth. Alcohol helped, and we both probably should have stopped a couple shots before we had.
“Wait! Why was Jake pissed? He doesn’t seem like the jealous type.”
“He saw Calon and me talking. I ran into him at The Garage on Tuesday, and he actually remembered me. But then he got all intense and mysterious and that’s the part Jake saw.”
“Intense and mysterious. Oh, Gracie. Please tell me he’s a good kisser.”
“Becki.” I raised my eyebrow at her. There was no way you could ooze sex like Calon and not be good at...everything.
“Shit! I need to work off this pent up sexual energy. Let’s do something impulsive.”
“Oh, Becki. We need to stop drinking. You’re going to get us arrested.”
“No, no one will call the cops. Let’s pretend we are hot rock stars!” She grabbed my hand and took off.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew I’d never be able to breathe through a conversation and jog behind her after half a dozen Goldschlager shots. My balance was off, but by the time she slowed to a stop and dropped my hand, I felt a little less dizzy and not so sloppy drunk.
“So, your hot rock star plan was to kill me? What are we doing in an alley?” I threw my back against the cold brick of the building and sucked in breath after breath.
“This is the back exit for Mitchell’s. Wanna go play me some more songs?”
“Um, no. Buzz almost killed us when he caught us in there earlier.”
“He loved it. Besides, the bar’s closed. He’ll be upstairs counting money or something.”
“Becki, I—”
“Shut up. You’re going to start living a little.”
She opened the door slowly and walked in. I followed her onto the st
age. It was an odd place for an exit door, but it wasn’t like the developers had any other option, which I was sure was some kind of hazard. The room was just too small to set up a bar room any other way.
The guitar I’d played earlier had been moved to a hook on the wall. The room was spotless, and there was no one around. But I could hear voices coming from upstairs.
“Shhh. Becki, there are people up there.”
“Relax. It’s probably the bartenders and Buzz.”
I walked over and took the guitar off the wall and hopped up onto a stool. I was center stage. Normally, I would be nervous to play even in front of Becki. But the alcohol still buzzing through my veins no longer had me stumbling and gave me big balls. Big enough to have fun with the situation. I doubted Becki would remember any of it in the morning anyway.
I threw my hands up in the air and waved. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, you’re too kind. Thanks for coming out tonight. I’m Gracie, and I’m your only choice for entertainment this evening.”
Becki pretended to be a raging crowd and had herself in hysterics. She snorted and we both cracked up.
“Come on, Gracie girl. Show me what you got!”
That’s all I needed to push me all the way into rocker role. The excitement of being impulsive and taking the opportunity by the balls then carrying it one step further gave me a bigger buzz then the Goldschlager.
I settled the guitar across my lap, grabbed a pick from the mic stand next to the stool, and took a deep breath. The end of the microphone smelled like Calon. And something about his scent gave me butterflies. The firm seat helped me keep my back straight so I could finger all the chords comfortably. I closed my eyes and started to strum. Immediately, goosebumps rose across my body. I hummed an impromptu melody along with random chords I strung together. I wasn’t sure what I was playing or why, but it flowed effortlessly, and my knowledge of the sounds each chord made helped direct my fingers to the right frets.
I wondered if that was why most rock stars drank. Just as the nervous tension started to leave my body, I remembered Becki was watching me, and I immediately became self-conscious. I critiqued the angle my head was leaning, the swaying of my body, and the sound of my own voice. I saw Noah’s face in my mind; he laughed at my outfit. I actually opened my eyes to make sure he wasn’t really there.
I can do this, dammit.
I distracted myself by focusing on the guitar. Someone else had written and played love songs on it. A young kid dreaming of one day standing in front of thousands of people may have sat in his room and played chords over and over until he could string them all together and play his favorite song. Maybe he passed it on to a girl whose tears hit its pale face more than once, and maybe strings had even been broken from her vigorous strumming while she wrote a song about a broken heart. It was a cool thought that the instrument I had positioned over my thigh had a lifetime of stories to tell. Maybe each owner’s songs were better because their music was unknowingly built on all the stories that came before it.
“Come on...I’m falling asleep over here!” Becki slurred a couple of her words together and made me giggle.
I took a deep breath and shook out my hands, which weren’t as relaxed as I needed them to be. I channeled Anna Nalick and strummed the intro. I was immediately lost in my own acoustic rendition of “Breathe.” The emotion and intensity of the song sucked me in so deep, my chest ached as if my heart could barely take the load of struggles of the people in the lyrics. But, I could only play; my throat was too tight with anxiety and emotion to sing. My body involuntarily moved to a silent beat. I rhythmically pressed my body into the back of the cool wood. The emotions built up within me sent a shiver down my spine. I started to hum along where a voice should be, and just as I was about to belt out the first verse, I saw Noah’s face again. Judging me.
Stop it. I was overwhelmed. The guitar balanced across my lap while I shook out my arms. I slid my fingers through my hair and wrapped a hair band from my wrist around where I’d gathered it at the base of my neck. My eyelids closed and I willed all images of Noah from my mind. I tilted my head toward each shoulder and rubbed my eyes. He wasn’t going to ruin this for me. My hands ran over the instrument with the potential to pull my heart out through its strings.
I closed my eyes and invited Anna back into my head, but this time, I opened my heart as well. Wide. I sang out the first verse without the guitar. Cleared my throat and started to play. I gave myself a few measures of an introduction before I felt my soul stir and beg for release.
The words flowed from my throat, and I felt like I was flying. Once again, my body pressed into the back of the guitar as I let myself go. The lyrics pulled me directly into a beautifully written description of life, and I was gone. I don’t know where my soul went, but it was a place I’d never felt before. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but not because I was sad or thinking about anything in particular. It was the level of emotion that left my body, both through my fingers and out of my mouth, that overwhelmed me.
My foot tapped out a beat as I sang out the final verses with a force I didn’t know was in me. My hands slowed, and I dropped them in my lap. I held them out in front of me in awe of what they’d just helped me do. I thought about Eddie Vedder. I had seen him fight back tears during performances, and I always wondered what it would feel like to let your music take you to there. Sometimes, his face would twist, and he’d squeeze his eyes closed as if they were burning with unshed tears.
I’d always had a fascination with performers, but now, I had a new level of respect for what they do. I was drained and exhausted. Not only had I lost every ounce of me in my solo performance for my solo audience, but I’d let the song and its lyrics speak to me and bring me comfort as I sang. I was transparent. Vulnerable. Bare. Naked. And completely spent.
“Gracie.” His voice was just above a whisper, and he said it so slowly, it was like a lyric that sat in the air for a bit. It sounded like he almost struggled to speak it, like something had stolen the air from his lungs.
“Calon, I’m so sorry. I know we shouldn’t be in here. I—” I looked over at Becki whose eyes were wide.
Calon didn’t say another word, but walked over slowly and stood directly in front of me. For a split second, I thought how ironic that was, he stood in front of me and I was on the stage. My mind flashed with scenes from the night he’d stepped off the stage, walked right over to me, and asked my name. Then our kiss. I felt my legs start to tremble. His presence was so huge.
He used both hands to tuck some curls behind his ears. Then he stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His deep green eyes were mesmerizing, but didn’t quite distract me enough to forget how embarrassed I was. His lips parted then closed. He cocked his head to the side. The curls fell around his face and his exaggerated movement threw a scent of alcohol, sweat, and sexy right at me. I needed him to say something. I was frozen with fear that we had crossed the line by invading his space, embarrassed by my performance, and guilty for how long I obviously held onto the memories of what Calon and I had shared.
“Gracie, what just came out of you...” He ran his fingers through his hair again and pulled it back into a plain old rubber band he grabbed from his wrist.
I smiled. “Please. You don’t have to say anything. We’ll get out of your way. I was just messing around. I’m so sorry I’m on your stage, Calon. I’m kinda drunk, and Becki dared me to come in here and pretend to be...well, a rock star.” I stood and hung the guitar back on the wall. I walked over to where Becki was still gawking at Calon and grabbed her hand. She looked back and forth at me and Calon.
“Hi. I’m Becki. It’s so great to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Becki. So, you’re the daring one that broke in here?” He winked at her, and I thought she’d pass out.
“Well, duh. Don’t I look daring? I’m all about pushing the limits. I bet I could—”
“Becki! I think we should go.” I grabbed both her hands. I was so w
orried she would try to touch him. It was obvious by her last comment how low her inhibitions were. “Calon, I’m so sorry. Thanks for being cool about this. Please don’t tell Buzz.” I pulled Becki back up to the stage toward the exit.
“Gracie, stop!” Calon’s voice was stern, but I could tell he wasn’t yelling at me but rather for me. I turned at the door and pushed Becki out into the alley, relieved I no longer needed to be her filter.
“Calon—”
“Gracie, your voice stole my breath. I can’t—”
“Thanks. Look, I have to get her home before she attacks you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I waved and let the door slam shut behind us. The night was cool and I was thankful for the breeze to help me think straight. Shit, I was so attracted to him. Just standing near him was completely overwhelming.
“Holy, fuckity fuck! Gracie Ann Jordan, you kissed those lips? That mouth. Oh. My. Dammit. Gracie, I think I love him.”
“Come on, you can sleep off your horny at my place tonight; it’s closer than yours.” She nodded and leaned into me.
Later, when my head hit the pillow, an overwhelming sense of guilt and loss came over me. I missed Jake so badly, my chest ached. I reached for my phone and looked at the clock. It was after three, I knew he’d be asleep but I needed him to know I was thinking about him.
Me: Going to bed. I miss you.
I didn’t even have time to tuck my phone under my pillow when it chimed with an incoming text.
Jake: Miss you, too, baby girl. Sweet dreams.
A vision of him alone in his bed made me sad, but I forced myself to sleep and hoped I’d see his face soon.
Eighteen
Jake
“Hey.”
She was obviously shocked I was standing at the door. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d texted her every day since she walked away from me, from us. I tried to come up with reasons we had to see each other. On one hand, I was so proud of the independence she was finding, but on the other hand, it had been three days since she texted last, and I missed her so much, I could barely breathe.
On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep Page 10
