Burning Muses

by J. R. Rogue

  I pressed my lips to his neck, and relished the sigh it brought forth. I took my time, tasting him, touching him, coaxing music from his mouth.

  I woke in a tangle of limbs as the sun rose. It had been so long since someone had shared my own bed and not a hotel room or their bed. I always hated having someone invade my own space, it always gave me anxiety. I pulled my right hand up to my chest and pressed. My heart beat low and slow, no panic lived there.

  We had come so close to going all the way the night before. We were rushed breath, sweat, and raw desire. We both somehow managed to stop ourselves. I was glad we had. I wasn’t ready.

  I couldn’t believe the thoughts swimming in my head. I wanted something of substance with this young man. Something real. Something new. Using him was not in the cards. I didn’t know where to go from here. It was foreign to me.

  One-night stands littered my past. With Tristan, it was easy. We never had to deal with the day-to-day mess that came with a commitment. There was no fear of our romance becoming monotonous. We never saw each other enough for it to get to that point.

  I knew why I was able to commit to Tristan. It wasn’t because of the way the world saw him. It wasn’t his beauty, his talent, or his spark. It was the knowledge that a commitment to him still held the promise of my freedom. It was easy.

  Would I be able to really commit to Chace? I wanted it. I wanted to grow up. I wanted a true adult relationship. I looked over at him, still sleeping. He took my breath away.

  He was on his stomach, the sheet down around his waist. His broad shoulders were silk under my fingers. His artificial leg peaked from the comforter.

  He hesitated when we undressed to sleep next to each other. I saw it in his eyes and felt it in his hands. There was not an inch of him I didn’t wish to touch, even those places he feared would diminish my desire. I kissed him, hard, easing his jeans down, reassuring him. We explored each other again in the warmth of my bed. I stripped down to my undergarments, as did he. His mouth found every bit of my skin that was exposed, not just the words, and I returned in kind. We continued until our hand and limbs slowed, sleep claiming us. He succumbed first. I watched him sleep; the gentle movement of his chest hypnotized me.

  I eventually fell too, tucked into his side. I recalled his words, his words before the kiss. I didn’t think he loved me. But I knew he could. I didn’t deserve it, but I was going to fucking take it.

  I slipped from the sheets and padded over to my vanity, grabbing my notebook and pen. The art of him in my bed at sunrise…it needed to be put on paper.

  There was to be another get together at the house that day. My mother wanted to barbecue. Hamburgers, hotdogs, potato salad, the works.

  After writing a bit, I slipped into the shower. Leaving the poetry on the bed next to Chace. When I entered the room again, he was gone, as was the paper. I saw a text from him on my phone.

  Chace: Last night. Yes. It was all of that. I don’t know how to act normal today when your family comes over. But I’ll try.

  I smiled at the screen and bit my lip. I was probably blushing too. I had turned into a 16-year-old girl again. I tossed my phone on the bed, grabbed my iPad and began attending to my social media and emails.

  I found one from my assistant titled ‘Tristan’, and my stomach flipped. It was not the name I wanted to see now. I opened it, and found a link to an article on People Magazine’s website. I didn’t want to click. Why was she sending me this? Could she sense I was finding something, with someone new? I am such a fucking masochist. I clicked.

  The article stated that Tristan’s romance with his costar had fizzled, and sources close to him speculated that he wanted me back. My whereabouts were unknown. Surprising. I may be in the Ozarks but those leeches could find blood anywhere.

  My next email was from Gemma. A link to the same article. I fell onto my bed, snatched my phone and checked my texts again. I had one from her.

  Gemma: Did you read the article? Tristan called me wanting your new number. I didn’t give it to him. Call me ASAP.

  Why, why was this happening? I must be at the part of the book where conflict emerged. I guess the honeymoon was over.

  I texted Kat and begged her to join in on the barbecue fun. She declined. She was insanely hungover. Damn. We went through a brief play by play of the night. She cheered for me in emoticons. I eye-rolled back.

  I made my way downstairs, about an hour before anyone would be showing up. I found Chace in the kitchen. He was preparing hamburger patties. He smiled at my entrance. I bit my lip again.

  “You look nice,” he breathed.

  I was wearing an oversized long sleeve t-shirt, skinny jeans, and ballet flats. My tangle of hair was in a messy knot on the top of my head, and I had opted out of wearing my contacts, choosing my wire frames instead.

  He was looking at me as if he saw only the girl in the white dress. He went to the sink, washed his hands, dried them on the towel hanging from the stove and made his way to me.

  He placed a finger under my chin and raised my mouth to his. The taste of mint met my tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my hands through his short brown hair. He splayed his hands upon my back, pressing into me. I raised up on my toes, he was so far away. In my flats, he towered over me by over a foot. He reached down, lifting me onto the counter.

  Once again, I used my heel to bring him as close to me as possible as his mouth claimed me. His kiss, it was more than any other man’s was. I felt more exposed than I had ever been. His hand found the elastic of my hair band and untangled it, letting the waves fall. He cradled my head, leaning me back, working his way over my neck. This was the best fucking breakfast I had ever had.

  The clearing of a foreign but familiar throat stilled our busy hands. I pulled away and looked into Chace’s eyes, trained over my shoulder. My brother’s voice cut through the kitchen.

  “Really guys. It’s 10 in the morning. Get a room. You both have one.” I rested my forehead on Chace’s shoulder. It bounced with his laughter. “I can’t believe you’re mauling my sister on a Sunday. You knew I was coming over. I think I lost my appetite.” He pretended to gag.

  I jumped off the counter, punching my brother in the arm. I couldn’t believe he was so casual about this. But fuck, I was relieved. I didn’t want, whatever this was, to cause turmoil for Chace and my family. They had a great thing going here. I didn’t want to be the one to wreck it all. I thought of my mother. I worried she would be a different story. I feared that she would disapprove. I couldn’t handle it. I needed him.

  Soon, the house filled with voices, food, and laughter. I found myself walking on eggshells. My mind was everywhere. I was fucking manic. Gemma was texting me, wanting to talk about Tristan. I ignored her. I didn’t care. I was over getting alerts about him. He could do whatever he wanted. I was over it. Over him.

  I wanted to reach out and touch Chace every time he came near me, but didn’t. We shared glances though. I caught Andrew rolling his eyes at us more than once. We hadn’t talked about what he had interrupted. I wondered if Chace would talk to him more about it. I wondered what he would tell him this was.

  I finally met Aiden’s mother when she stopped to bring her son by for a bit. She was very friendly but seemed exhausted. She had to appreciate Chace so much for all he did to help her.

  We didn’t play games this Sunday. We simply sat on the back lawn, around the large pond and talked. Chace stood on the deck and threw a large branch into the water over and over again as Artax retrieved it. I tried to keep my eyes away from him. It was difficult.

  I could feel summer around the corner, in both my happiness and in the sunshine. I wondered how much I would see here, of this year. I pondered how much longer I would stay in Missouri.

  My mother, always one to sense my thoughts, sat next to me and asked, “So, how long do we have left with you, Dear?” She reached for my hand and gently squeezed it.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I didn’t thin
k long, but, I’m writing again. And I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to change a thing. I don’t want to scare it away.”

  “I like to hear that. It’s so nice having you here. Just a short drive away. I miss the Sundays at this house. Remember them?”

  “Yes,” I smiled. I was fine in the daylight hours. My mother had the warmest smile. I never wanted to be the one to diminish it. “Board games. Reading. Late breakfast and early dinner. I loved it.” I was always telling her half-truths.

  “Me too. How are things with you and Chace?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, too sharply.

  “Are you getting along? I’m sure you see him more. I’m so glad he quit that second job of his. School is the most important thing and lord knows he would have us to help him with anything he needed.”

  “Yeah. He did work a lot,” I replied, relieved. I looked at Chace in the distance. He was sitting on the edge of the dock, his arm around Artax, who was perched next to him.

  “I just wish he had more family. Family he could be close with.”

  “He has us,” I said and looked around at everyone. Smiles were surrounding me. “You know he considers you guys as family.”

  “And you now, too,” she added.

  “Yeah. I guess. Let’s just call me his roommate.” Dear God, don’t say I’m his family.

  My mother stood. “Help me bring the dishes inside.”

  I rose with her, gathering plates and other items, and retreated into the house. She ran water and began washing. I took my place on the other side to dry. Just like when I was a child.

  She handed me a plate and cleared her throat. I looked at her profile. She was gazing out the kitchen window.

  “I saw the way you two were looking at each other,” she said, evenly.

  “What do you mean?” I dried the plate, keeping my voice as even as hers, studying her features.

  “It was both of you. You were both glancing at each other and had that look on your faces. Like you think the other hung the moon.”

  I couldn’t tell how she was feeling about this. She was always so good at talking about any situation without letting her emotions enter. It was one reason I was able to go to her for advice so often when I was younger. I couldn’t help my denial.

  “You’re getting delusional in your old age,” I joked, nudging her. I turned my eyes back to my task.

  “Deny it if you want. I know what I saw. Just be careful.”

  “With what?” I turned back quickly. I was sure my face gave me away. She was onto us.

  “With him,” she replied.

  “What do you mean? You think the world of him.”

  “I do. But he doesn’t need anyone leaving him heartbroken.” Ouch. My own mother. I set down the cup I had been toweling off.

  “Mom,” I began, carefully. “Are you implying that I’m like, a ‘bad girl’ or something?”

  She wasn’t wrong, but how did she know? Phone calls home were always light, about work and travel. Never about men in my life.

  “No, Hun. I just know, you’ve never given any indication that you want to settle down any time soon. I’m okay with that. You take care of yourself and you have this life you have created for yourself that I couldn’t be more proud of. But Chace is different.”

  I began drying the cup again, furiously. “Well none of this conversation is necessary, because he is young and I’m not interested.”

  The lie stung on my lips. Why the hell had I said that? I was too used to keeping my love life from her.

  My mother sighed. “He’s young, but not in his soul. Not in his heart. Not like Andrew. He’d match you. He’d challenge you. Honestly, he is the kind of man I would hope you would find one day.”

  “You’re running in circles. Let’s just call it. I feel like you’re encouraging me to marry the guy and also scaring me away.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m done,” she paused. “He has just had a hard life, Sera. And he is doing so well. Others, they would have let it destroy them. I see it so often. You know how it kills me. Children from harsh backgrounds, letting circumstance and everything turn them down the wrong path. Drugs, stealing, and so many other horrible things. But Chace. He has made a strong life for himself.”

  “I agree. He really has it together.” My stomach was home to an anvil. I had a hard life, but I had kept it from her.

  “We all carry scars. He is just really good at hiding his,” she said, unknowingly wounding me.

  Before long, the house was empty again. Save for two. Before she left, my mother convinced me to do a small book signing at the local library. The town had been abuzz about my arrival since before I landed.

  I had managed so far to stay out of the public eye. It was easy to do in the country. She felt it would be a nice thing to do for the fans I had here. I worried a little that those who felt my work was not acceptable would show up just to stare me down. I ordered a couple hundred books from my publishing house to be sent to my mother’s house, where I would sign them for the event.

  I retreated to my bathroom as soon as everyone pulled away to take a shower. I let the warm water flow over me and thought of Chace. He was downstairs waiting for me. What would this night bring? My hearth fluttered at the thought.

  Once I was clean, I checked my social media once again, anxious, after the mornings findings. I had a new email from my assistant. Another link. I regretfully clicked. It was an Entertainment Weekly article about Tristan, once again discussing his breakup and his apparent pining for me.

  A source close to him stated things did not pan out because he was not over me. The source claimed he had simply used the actress to make me jealous and push me into commitment. I wondered who the laughable source was. It was a complete crock of shit. I knew better than to read much into the words. The end of the article claimed I had left New York. Well they go that right. And that Tristan was determined to find me. I didn’t believe it. I doubted he gave much thought to my changed number and sudden move.

  I slammed my laptop, jumped off the bed and got dressed. I stomped down the stairs and headed into the kitchen, finding Chace cutting some sort of cake.

  He smiled. “Where are you going?”

  I returned his smile. “Nowhere. Came down to find you.” I sat at the bar.

  “Would you like a piece?” The treat appeared to be cheesecake.

  “Where did that come from?” My eyes widened. “Oh, is that my mother’s?” My mother made the most divine New York style cheesecake. Ironically, I never found anything in New York that compared.

  “Yes,” he smiled, putting a piece on another plate. “She forgot to mention she brought it.”

  I snatched my plate and dove in. I moaned as soon as the piece hit my mouth. It was like my birthday, and fresh snow on my tongue, and fuzzy slippers. I missed that damn sweet goodness. I found Chace watching me.

  “My mother suspects there is something going on between us,” I said, around my mouthful of food.

  “Really? What did she say?”

  “She seemed to be warning me away from you,” I said, stabbing my fork into the remainder of my slice. I twisted the fork, and looked up at him. Confusion covered his face.

  “Oh.”

  “Not because of you. Because of me, I think. Because of my past. Since I haven’t had many,” I hesitated, “relationships.”

  “I see,” he said simply.

  “Does that bother you? Maybe it doesn’t matter.” He made his way around the kitchen island. He grabbed my knee and spun me on my stool. I reached my arm back, set down my fork, and looked up at him and into his honest eyes. He placed his hand on my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw.

  “You know, for me, this isn’t casual. This isn’t just some fling. Messing around.” His voice was low, my insides burned.

  “I know.” He was not a man whose intentions would be doubted. I didn’t want another silly fling with him. I wanted more.

  “Good,” he smiled. I felt relief comi
ng off in waves.

  “The same for me. Casual is my specialty.” My life. My past. My dirty secret. “But that’s not what you are.”

  He let out a breath. “How did this happen? I can’t believe I’m touching you. I feel that way every time I put my hands on you.”

  He ran his thumb along my jaw, tilting my mouth towards him. I kept my eyes on his. The crystal color of them. Taking it in. Taking everything in that was being said.

  “I’m as real as I’ve ever been, when you do,” I breathed.

  Then his mouth was on mine. I pushed off the stool, nearly falling off. My hand gripped his neck as he wrapped one arm around me, lifting me to the counter. He fit himself between my thighs, and I pressed him closer within. Everything went crimson.

  A new week rolled around, with one distinct change: I was deliriously happy. Chace left my bed early for class, kissing my forehead as he left my room. I wanted him in my bed each morning. I wanted him to be the one who erased the memory of me sneaking out of foreign bedrooms at dusk.

  I decided to avoid all social media that day. I wanted to remain in my happy bubble, without my ex’s shadow blocking my sunlight. I texted Kat to confirm our lunch. I was determined to get to the bottom of things with her.

  She was having a busy beginning to her week. New shipments of purses and blouses were due so I promised to pick something up for us so we could sneak a meal in her stock room. I placed her favorite salad on the table surrounded by boxes and sat down with her.

  She had a mouth full of greens when I attacked. “So what’s going on with you lately?”

  “What do you mean?” She cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “You just seem distracted. And on your phone…” I pointed to the device. Face down. An inch from her left hand. “A lot.”

  She blushed at my question. I was on to something.