Bounce

by Noelle August

  Skyler is quiet but I feel her, alert and listening. Waiting for me to continue. So I do.

  “I guess I see the lost part as a good thing. Being lost means you’re searching. It means you’re trying to get somewhere, understand something. I wrote a song about it recently. I wrote it the day I met you.” Shut up, Grey. Shut up. That’s off topic. “But, to answer your question, I don’t think an artist needs a balanced life, as much as one that has meaning.”

  “How do you define meaning?” she asks.

  “Family.”

  “Right . . . ​That puts me back where I started.”

  “Yeah. Like you said, it’s fucking complicated.”

  She laughs, and when the sound fades away, there’s a knock on the door. It’s Beth. Everyone’s going out and she wants to know if we’re okay. I let Skyler answer. I’m obviously doing pretty damn great. She tells Beth we’re fine here, and to have fun.

  “I feel like we’re on the boat right now,” Skyler says, when the apartment falls quiet. “The two of us.” Her hand slips under my t-shirt and moves up my stomach. I have a heart attack, and my entire body goes cement-hard.

  Her cool fingers start tracing circles on my stomach. What the—?

  I’m on fire.

  Burning.

  Chill, Grey. Just freakin’ relax.

  “Grey?”

  “Um.” There are no working brain cells in my head. “That’s, um, me. Grey. That’s me, right?”

  She laughs and lifts her head. Her smile is soft, seductive. The end of me, basically.

  “You said you wanted me to make the first move. Here I go.” She leans down and kisses me, her soft lips sucking gently on mine.

  I kiss her back slowly, and sweep my tongue against hers. Skyler sighs and shifts higher on the bed, more onto me. She’s warm and tastes sweet. Her soft pink hair brushes my cheek as she leans over me.

  I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me, and our mouths find a rhythm that’s full of improvisation. We kiss hard and deep, and her eyes flutter closed, her fingers digging into my shoulders, then slow and soft; we stop to smile at each other, then start again. I’ve never kissed anyone this way. Fast, slow, hungry, gentle. It’s like we want to do everything, try everything, be every way with each other right now.

  I don’t know where this is going. I know where I want it to go. My body definitely knows where it wants this to go. I want her so much, it’s agony.

  Then reason. Reason taps me on the shoulder.

  Does she really want this? Or am I just the guy who’s here right now?

  Who cares?

  I run my hands over Sky’s body. She’s curvy and so goddamn soft. She makes me insane. I want to crush her with my body. I want to make her mine. I want to take care of her. Want, want, want. She makes me into pure want and I’m having a hard time being gentle and slow now, kissing her, touching her. Skyler breaks our kiss and her hazel eyes come to mine. She likes what she sees. Me, out of breath. Drunk on her. Me, at her mercy.

  Skyler shifts so she’s straddling me, and her kisses move to my neck and my jaw. I tug the hem of her dress up and run my hand along her leg. Then I reach back and find the zipper. When the dress falls to her waist, she leans down, covering herself.

  “Wait,” I whisper. “Let me see you.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She gives me a shy smile and straightens, and I memorize the way she looks, which is perfect. I’ve imagined her a million times. But she’s a million times more beautiful than what I imagined. I lean up and taste her. Soft, warm, full. She wraps her arms around my head and I grab her hips. We need less clothes. But any second now, she’s going to tell me to stop.

  “Sky . . .” What are we doing here? Are we doing this?

  She pulls my shirt off, and reaches for the button on my jeans. I grab her around the waist and pull her beneath me, swapping our positions on the bed.

  Skyler tugs my jeans down, then my boxers. Her panties come off. Things are happening fast. I know I have some kind of concern. What the hell was it? I remember. Fuck. I remember and I don’t want to remember, but . . . ​damn it. “Sky . . . ​You’re upset.”

  “I’m not. Not anymore.”

  I can’t think with her hands on me, her naked body beneath me.

  “It’s okay, Grey. I want this.”

  I do, too. I want her.

  Chapter 26

  Skyler

  I’m in bed with Grey.

  I’m in bed with Grey.

  I’m in bed with Grey.

  I know he’s my lifeline in this moment, my drug to help me forget everything else. I know it’s wrong. Not smart. But I don’t care. I want it. I want him.

  We kiss and kiss, my tongue against his, tasting all of his sweetness, the taste of mint and spices. I’m not trembling now. I’m light and solid, all tongue and fingers and lips and teeth.

  He kisses like he sings—raw and skilled and searching. I trace the cords of his muscled arms, feel the rippled breadth of his back. His weight tethers me in the best possible way.

  We break off, and he stares down at me. His eyes, his beautiful light gray eyes, like sunshine glimmering through rain, they hold me here. See me. For who I am in this moment. Not who I’ll be in another seven pounds. Or when we wrap the film. Or when I send a check.

  “Sky . . .” he starts, but I don’t want words. I just want him.

  I pull him closer and feel the length of him, the really full length of him, against my belly. Pressing against me. So close. Nothing between us. He’s so huge, all of him, not just his body, but his big beautiful heart, his energy, the power and goodness of him. I want it all inside me. Want to be filled with it. With him.

  We kiss and kiss, and I graze my teeth and tongue along his jawline, nip his smooth shoulder.

  He groans and presses hard against me, making me gasp.

  “Shit,” he says, shifting his weight. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I pull him back against me, reaching down between our bodies. I’m ready for him. So ready. “Hurt me,” I say. But it’s not pain I want but feeling. Being in my body. Being here and now.

  I shift my thighs apart, my need for him a sharp hot throb in every part of me. I’m scared and excited, but I want him so much. Even for just one night.

  But Grey’s stopped moving, gone still beneath my hands.

  “Grey?”

  He looks at me, and it’s all wrong. There shouldn’t be so much hurt there. Or fear.

  “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats. But it’s different now. Guarded. He eases off me, and I know somehow I’ve spoiled things.

  “You’re not. I promise. I want—” All of it. Everything. So much, I can’t find words for it all.

  He looks at me, and his jaw flexes. His lips press together.

  “Grey, what just happened? Talk to me.”

  Shaking his head, he says, “I just . . . ​Shit. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it doesn’t feel right.” His eyes shift away from me, and his hand comes to settle on the sheets now bunched between us. Everything’s wrong. “Like I said, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Stop saying that. That’s not what this is about.”

  It’s like a light’s gone out, just blinked into nothing. How can that be? I can’t make sense of it.

  He still can’t look at me. “You were crying. You just . . . ​I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that.”

  “You didn’t,” I tell him, fighting to keep from touching him, from pulling him back onto me, which felt so perfect and so right. “I made the first move, remember? Just like you wanted.”

  “Yeah.” All the warmth’s gone from his eyes. He’s somewhere else, and I can’t follow him there.

  “You won’t hurt me,” I tell him, gently. “And even if you do, I’m not a child. I can handle it. I won’t shrivel up and die.”

  “But I will,” he says. “I mean, I w
on’t die. But I couldn’t take it if I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  He slides up on the bed and tugs his wadded-up jeans out from under my legs. Getting to his feet, he pulls them on then picks up his briefs and his t-shirt and just stands there, looking down at me.

  I feel more naked than ever now. And wrong in every possible way.

  It’s not me he’s worried about at all. I see that now. He’s the one who can’t stand to be hurt. Who can’t trust. He’s just going to keep picking at that wound inside himself, over and over. Until he grows the hell up.

  “Can you give me my dress?” I hate the sound of my voice, dead in this quiet room. I need to get out of here. Talk to my mother. Answer calls. Go see Brooks.

  He does, and I slip it on, zip it up without asking for help. I find my underwear and step into them.

  Grey hovers by the doorway, watching. I feel how much he wants to leave, to get the hell away from me. And how much he wants to stay, to keep an eye on me. To protect me, like I’m the one who needs protecting.

  I move past him into the living room, which is still littered with beer bottles, empty bags of chips. Great. I push aside the debris in search of my cell phone.

  “Sky, we’re cool, right? You understand?”

  I nod, barely listening. Where did I put my phone? “We’re fine.”

  After consolidating some of the junk, I take everything into the kitchen and find, in the trash, my cell phone, smashed to pieces.

  “What happened?” I pick it up. The screen isn’t just cracked; it’s pulverized. I try to switch it on, but it’s dead. “Did it fall? How did it get like this?”

  Grey rubs his jaw, and the look on his face tells me everything.

  “Did you do this?” I ask. But I already know. “Why would you do this?”

  “Because it fucking stressed you out every time you got a call.” His tone is angrier than it should be. Especially for a person who just ruined hundreds of dollars of technology that I have to replace.

  “You think it won’t stress me out to have to get a new one? To not be able to get calls when I have to be somewhere every minute? When my mom’s having a crisis thousands of miles away?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. I just . . . ​did it.”

  “Well, no shit.” I dump the pieces of the phone back into the trash. “But if your solution to every problem is to smash it, then I’m glad things didn’t go any further back there.”

  “I don’t smash every problem,” he says. “Christ, Skyler. You make it sound like I’m the Hulk. I was just trying to give you a break.”

  “No, you don’t smash everything. Mostly you just avoid it. Like your mom. Like me for the last few days.” I’m going to cry again, and I don’t want him to see me do it. He’s not what I need. I’ve been right about that all along.

  I push past him, find my shoes, purse, and car keys, though I don’t know yet where I’m going. Just that I need to go. It occurs to me that I could go to the bar and meet up with the others. But I don’t want to be around Grey’s band or around Titus and Beth and whatever it is they have going.

  Brooks, I think. I need to go see him, like I promised. Work on the film. I can’t call him to say I’m coming over, but I know it’ll be okay. He said he’d be home all night, so I know that’s where I’ll find him. He’ll be where he’s supposed to be.

  And that’s where I need to be now, too. Somewhere safe and sane. I’m sure I can call my mom from there, and then we’ll just get to work. It’ll be such a relief, I think. To be with someone who just, plainly, wants me. Someone straightforward, stable, and easy. I don’t know why I haven’t let myself have that. It looks so good to me right now.

  I say good night to Grey, who barely answers, then I head out, closing and locking the door behind me.

  Chapter 27

  Grey

  Garrett, mind if I take off for an hour?” I ask him. He’s in a tuxedo, and he looks sharp. We’re filming a Christmas party scene for the movie.

  I’ve spent the day watching him and Skyler pretend to flirt in front of six film cameras and two dozen people. I don’t mind them flirting, obviously. What I don’t like is how Brooks pulls Sky aside whenever there’s a break in the shoot schedule. What I don’t like is the way his goddamn hands touch her back or her arm or her hands, like he can’t freakin’ speak unless he’s touching her. I feel possessive of her. Insanely. And I’ve pushed her right into Brooks’s arms by acting like a total tool last night.

  Skyler didn’t sleep at the apartment. I know she slept at Brooks’s place, even though I’m pretty sure they didn’t hook up. I don’t think. I don’t know why I think that. Maybe it’s just what I want to believe.

  “Sure, Greyson. I’ll survive without you for an hour, most likely.” Garrett looks from me, to Brooks and Skyler, to Adam and Mom, who are standing together holding lattes. So alike. Stylish and lean. Polished. Garrett takes my face in his hands. “Try and come back without that frown you’ve been wearing all day.” He winks and lets me go.

  I glance at Skyler as I leave the soundstage. She’s under the bright lights, surrounded by tables and props that make this warehouse look like an upscale restaurant. Skyler is sitting at a table, and Mia has plopped into the chair Garrett was occupying during the scene. They look like they’re in a deep conversation, and I wonder if it’s about me.

  What choice did I have last night? If we’d slept together, she’d have regretted it. Does she have any idea that stopping us was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done? It destroyed me. Mentally, it was the right call. Physically, I’ll never forgive myself. It hurts me to imagine what I passed up—and I’ve been imagining it all damn day.

  I close my eyes and hear her voice. “If your solution to every problem is to smash it, then I’m glad things didn’t go any further back there.”

  Even last night, she was already relieved. Smash or avoid. That’s what she thinks of me. That’s how she thinks I deal with problems. She’s right. I left home last August, when the shit hit the fan with Mom. And I left Adam’s place last week, when the same thing happened. Avoid and avoid. And I did smash her phone last night. I really am the Hulk.

  I walk to the parking lot, feeling better with a little fresh air, and hop in the Mercedes. Twenty minutes later, I’m talking to a salesman at an electronics store. I buy an unlocked model of the newest iPhone and drive back to the studio. It’s dark, but all the cars are still here. They’re still filming. I open the box and take out the new phone and power it up. Then I find the record voice memos option, and click it.

  “Sky . . . ​It’s Grey. I have a few things I want to say. First thing. Sorry about your phone. Hope this one’s an okay replacement. The guy at the store said this is a better model than the one you had. Newer. Anyway, I hope you like it. Second thing . . . ​I’ve been thinking you’re right about some of the things you said about me. How I smash or avoid, and . . . ​I’m going to do better. You probably don’t give a shit what I do but . . . ​I’m going to change that stuff about me. I’m standing by what I said, though. I mean, by what I did, by not hooking up with you. Skyler . . . ​I can’t risk messing up with you. I couldn’t use you, and I couldn’t let you use me, and I think that’s what last night would’ve been. You’re too good for that.

  “Anyway, I’m not going to avoid you or make it awkward between us. I don’t want to do that again. It’s going to majorly suck, because I think you’re kind of with Brooks, but whatever. I’ll deal. So, if you’re up for it, we should be friends. I want to be your friend. That sounds really lame. Shit. I actually had a plan going into this. All right, I’m going to wrap it up. Sky, this is me, making the first move: let’s be buds?” I’m laughing at my idiot self as I stop the recording. Let’s be buds? Seriously? But I leave it the way it is. That message burned all my courage.

  I put the phone back in the box. Then I sit in the car for a little while, just watching the parking lot. I already feel better. I k
now she’ll accept my offer. When we talk, when there’s none of the attraction bullshit going on between us, it’s so good. We connect. I know she feels that, too. That’s what I don’t want to lose. That’s what I’m fighting to keep.

  I use my truck’s spare key and unlock it, and leave the new phone on the driver’s seat. I notice, as I lock back up, that my truck smells like her now.

  I don’t see her the rest of the night. We miss each other at the studio. When I leave, I go straight to band practice since it’s late. The guys give it extra gas as we move through our songs. I feel us improving, fueled by the upcoming showcase. We sound awesome. The girls are quiet, watching us, Nora and Beth. Evie and Renee. In their expressions, I see something that’s close to wonder. I see us becoming something unique, whole. But at the same time I’m conscious of the barrier I noticed at our Amber performance. How I hold back the last small part of myself and don’t give over completely. I push for it when we play “Runner.” I push for honesty. I push to let out the pain, the rejection, the fear. I edge right up to it, but I can’t break down the barrier.

  We shut it down around midnight, and I head back to the apartment. Now that Beth and Titus are together, they’ve been going to his place a lot. Titus lives in a studio apartment, and privacy is a big plus for them right now. They can’t keep their hands off each other.

  I’m disappointed when I get home. Skyler’s still out. I grab my guitar and sit on the couch and mess around with it for a little while, telling myself I’m not waiting up for her. At two, I shower and get in bed. At two thirty, I hear her come in. I hear the shower go on, and then I hear her get out, and the door to her room shuts.

  Damn it. She’s still mad at me.

  My phone lights up on the bedside table.

  Skyler: Are you awake?

  I grab it and text back, typing so fast I confuse the hell out of autocorrect my first few tries.

  Grey: Yep. I’m up.

  Skyler: I like my new phone. Thank you.

  I’m smiling so big, I want to punch myself.