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Out of Play

Page 18

by Jolene Perry


  I run each hand down his muscular arms and trace all the veins and contours—there are a lot. A very nice side effect of playing the drums. His palms are smooth, and he clasps my hand the moment our fingers touch. He opens his eyes and pulls his arms out to the side, which brings me close. We kiss once before I pull away.

  “Not yet.” I smile. “I’m not done.”

  “I might be insane by the time you finish.” The need in his eyes should scare me, but it doesn’t. It just makes me feel more like I made a really good decision in coming here.

  “I’m okay with that.” I sit back and run my hands over his chest, under the line where his pecs are cut and then down his toned stomach. My fingertips slide underneath the top of his boxers, and I run them back and forth at the edge of the waistband, which just shows above his jeans. I could sit here and touch him like this for hours.

  “Yeah, definitely going insane.” He sits up and pulls us together, while avoiding touching my tattoo. The heat from him almost gives my body what it needs to take over again, and he brushes his lips against mine. When I don’t protest, his kiss is slow and deep, once again making me feel like he’s exploring every part of me. “Time for you to relinquish control for a minute.” His lips touch mine as he speaks.

  My heart starts hammering at the thought. “I—” I was going to say I don’t think so, but the way he’s looking at me… I let him take my hands with his and guide me to lying down next to him. Close. Touching. I can’t take in a deep breath with his bare chest against me, but I love it. Love that he does this to me, to my body. Love that he wants to be here. Wants to have this effect on me.

  Our eyes lock in the dim light. “You’re beautiful, Penny.”

  All I can do is smile because, for the first time, I feel beautiful.

  Bishop hovers, holding my hands over my head, pinning me down. How far does he want to go? My muscles begin to tense as I wonder if I can do that. If I’m ready.

  “I don’t think I can go all the—”

  “We’re not going there.” He kisses me softly. “I won’t rush you.”

  I’m feeling too much at once, so teasing feels safer. “You know I could push you off, right?” I press up with my arms so he can feel how strong I am.

  “I know.” His face is still soft. “But don’t.”

  Okay. Trust. Like he said. I can do this. I relax my arms, every nerve in my body aware that Bishop Riley is hovering over my half naked body, and I’ve just given up control.

  I let my eyes close as his lips touch my collarbone.

  This is a whole lot of firsts for Penny Jones.

  Chapter Nineteen

  BISHOP

  “This car is going to be the death of me!” Gramps wipes the sweat off his forehead, leaving a big trail of dirt behind. Quickly, I disregard the urge to tell him in case I need a joke later.

  I slip my hand in and tighten one of the bolts he just screwed in. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up, old man. You can’t take it? I thought you were better than that.” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for whatever smart-aleck remark he has.

  “And I thought you knew better than to try and play me, Rookie. I may be old, but all that means is I’m better. Had a whole hell-of-a lot more time to hone my skills than you. Here, let me get a tissue and wipe your nose for you.”

  He moves his hand toward my face, but I playfully push it away. A laugh rumbles from deep in my stomach and spills free. Gramps is so cool. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known, but there’s no way I’m telling him that. “Maybe you should sit down. I don’t want you to get tired on me. Where’s your walker?”

  Gramps grabs for me, and I let him put me in a headlock. “You little punk! I don’t have a walker!”

  He’s actually giving me a noogie (who can say they’ve been given a noogie from an old guy?), when a door slams. “Gramps, stop beating up Bishop.” I look up to see Penny standing there with her arms crossed. “Seriously? You can’t take him?”

  I pull out of Gramps’s grip. “I was letting him win. I thought you might get a little pissed if I injured your grandpa.”

  Gramps clears his throat. “No one was letting me do anything. Kids these days. No respect.” He’s trying to hide his smile as he backs up, but then his look gets serious. “Five minutes.” He grumbles before walking inside.

  “I thought he’d never leave.” I back Penny up, my hands on her waist until I’m sandwiching her between me and her Corvette.

  “I don’t have five minutes. I have to go,” she says as my lips trail up her neck. I love the way she tastes. The way she smells. The way she feels. I still can’t believe I’m here with her.

  “Four?” I nip her ear.

  “Six, but that’s my final offer.”

  I laugh against her skin. I’m not sure I’ve laughed this much in my whole life. Actually, that’s a lie. Mom and I had problems, but we were happy when I was growing up. I was happy. Gary asked me once when the last time things were easy for me. It couldn’t have been way back then. I mean, I’ve had hard times off and on like everyone, but I think I’ve been happy. I used to like riding my motorcycle and used to meet with my friend Ryan a lot, but those things are few and far between. When I’m high, I laugh a whole lot, but that’s not the same. Not nearly the same.

  Penny turns her head so our lips connect, and I kiss her.

  Now totally isn’t the time to think about those things.

  My hand slides under her hoodie. Her hands thread through my hair, and I kiss her deeper. Needing more…always more when it comes to her. But I also don’t want to push her too far, too quick.

  “I like your hair. I hate that stupid hat you wear.” She whispers the words against my lips.

  “Me too.”

  “And your lip ring.” She pretends to nip at it. “Totally hot.”

  I groan, wishing we had a whole lot more than six minutes. It’s crazy how wild this girl makes me. How much different I feel when I’m with her—not just her, either, but at all lately. Working on the car, snowmachining. All of it.

  Guilt tries to push its way back in, but I shove it away.

  “You’re really Bishop Riley?” It’s different how she says it. I don’t feel like she’s a fan, trying to get a piece of me. It’s just curiosity, surprise, and it makes that guilt squeeze in again. I give her a nod, and she shakes her head with a smile. “So weird.”

  “Not weird.” I kiss her again. And it’s not because when I’m with her I feel like only the good parts of me show.

  “What are you doing today?” She squeezes me tighter.

  “Your friends are picking me up in a few hours. I think they want to take me to the mountains and hide the body.” Pulling away enough so we can see each other, I wink, my hands still on her waist. “Good thing I can take them.”

  “Ugh! Don’t remind me. I’m pissed I can’t go. My mom is seriously making me crazy. So damn hypocritical.”

  There’s a way to bring the guilt back. Not only are Penny and her mom still fighting—partly because of me—but I’m still lying to her. “Maybe she hired Mitch and Chomps to try and take me out. I bet that’s what this is about. Murder for hire. Drummer from Burn killed in the Alaskan mountains by his girlfriend’s admirers, on order of her Mom.”

  Her grip tightens on me, and I can’t help but lean forward and kiss her again.

  “I thought you could take them.”

  “I can, but then you’d be pissed at me for beating up Lover Boy.”

  “Ugh!” She pushes me away. “Stop calling him that.”

  Gramps comes back into the garage at the same time. Five minutes are up already?

  “Break it up, you two. I’m already public enemy number one with your mom, Penny.”

  I’m still in shock she hasn’t kicked us out. That I’m even here right now.

  Penny steps around me. “Don’t get me started on her.”

  Isn’t this awesome? I’m causing all sorts of family drama. I start breathing a little faster. My hands
tremble. “Don’t be mad at your mom about me, okay?”

  She just rolls her eyes and kisses me quickly. “I gotta go.”

  I want to pull her closer. Let her kiss linger and touch her everywhere, but I don’t. “Later,” I tell her and try to walk away, but I feel her lips against my ear.

  “I know it might not be huge to you, but the way you just talked about being in the band? Like it was natural and you didn’t mind that I know? It means something to me. Thanks for being honest.”

  Sharp, stabbing pain pierces my chest. Not by her, though, because this one? This is all me. My hand holding the knife. Bishop Riley strikes again.

  Gramps and I are quiet for the next hour while we keep working on the car. We can’t figure out why she’s giving us so much trouble, and it’s adding to my already shitty mood. If I could just get the Corvette running, maybe I’d start to deserve Penny.

  My heart’s been beating way too fast since she left. I definitely could use one of my anxiety meds, but I can’t make myself go to Gary. Not anymore. I’m going to stop all of it. I already feel like a sorry excuse for a man because—well, because I guess I am one, and that just makes it worse.

  Without a word, Gramps tosses his tool down and goes to sit in a chair. We’ve been working together enough that he knows my moods. When I don’t feel like talking, Gramps doesn’t talk. When I need to laugh, he gives me shit. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one who talked Penny’s mom down the other day because so far, she hasn’t kicked us out. The woman definitely wants me out of here. She gives me the evil eye every time I see her.

  “I’m going sledding with Mitch, Matt, and Chomps in a bit. I think they want test me or something.” I shrug. “Make sure I’m good enough for Penny or whatever.” It doesn’t even surprise me that I tell him. Gramps is cool like that. He has a way of getting stuff out of people and making it feel okay. Kind of like Gary lately.

  Gramps chuckles, leaning back in the chair. He crosses his arms. “Eh, they’re pretty good kids. Been around forever. They’re good to Penny except Mitch has hurt her. Didn’t mean to, but it still makes me want to slit his tires.”

  I hold out my fist and Gramps bumps it, just like one of the guys in my band would.

  “I like Mitch, but he’s not the one for Pen. She didn’t love him. Just thought she did. He was there for her when we lost my son. And again when people gave her a hard time for playing on the boys’ hockey team.”

  Jealousy creeps up inside me. “Yeah, but he also chose some other chick over her.”

  Gramps rolls his eyes. “Like I said, they’re not a match, those two. Which is okay. Nothing wrong with that.”

  More silence. My leg is bouncing a little, but I’m actually feeling calmer than I was before.

  “You really like her, don’t you, son?”

  His words make it hard to look at him. Because I do really like her, but I also know I shouldn’t. I feel Gramps’s eyes on me and know it’s time to step up. “Yeah. She’s awesome. I don’t deserve her, though. She doesn’t know everything. No one here knows everything about me.”

  Bounce, bounce, bounce. With my eyes, I case the place like I’m planning on robbing it or something.

  “Then why don’t you tell me?” Gramps’s voice is softer than usual.

  Can I do this? Can I open my mouth and say the words? It’s so fucking hard to admit what’s in my head. It’s different, knowing something and admitting it. Knowing is personal. It’s easy to lie to yourself. Or fool yourself. Admitting it? That’s owning it. Making it real. It takes balls to own it. I’m not really an addict. I didn’t almost die back home or get lost in Tokyo if I don’t actually open my mouth and spit out the words.

  I try the deep breathing thing I learned again. I feel like such a coward, and I’m tired of it. And I think if I could tell anyone, it would be Gramps. Looking at him, I realize he’s probably the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had. That I ever will have.

  “I kind of…have a problem with pills?”

  “You—”

  “No. I do. Not kind of.” I scratch my head. My arm. Touch my lip ring. Bounce my leg. None of it makes me forget what I’m doing. The stalling makes it worse. “I started right after I got signed. The crowds, they kind of freak me out. It’s like they’re trying to get inside me, so I’d take something to chill me out. Then, I’d get tired and need to stay awake, so I’d take a pill for that. Then I’d need help sleeping, which would call for another one. It feels good, ya know? Like I’m flying or…I don’t know… Light? It started to get fun. I started taking different kinds. Do you know how easy pills are to come by?”

  For the first time since I started this confession, I look at Gramps. “I wanted to steal some from you.”

  His eyes are crinkled at the sides. He gives me a quick nod. “But you didn’t, did you?”

  “No. Not from you. I snuck some here with me, though. Took ‘em all. Took more when my friend, Maryanne, came, and I have twelve sitting in the cabin, waiting for me.”

  It’s almost like my words drift out but float back inside me. Whispering in my head to make sure it sinks in. I am an addict. Right now, my mouth feels dry. My heart is going wild again because I do have pills waiting for me. I could take them tonight. Or not all of them, but a few. Like for my last time, or whatever. Take some, dump the rest and then I’ll be done.

  No!

  “You wanna know what happened for me to come here?” A part of me actually thinks I want to tell him. Maybe it’s a warm-up because I know I have to tell Penny.

  “I do.” Gramps’s voice is even softer.

  More breaths. More bounces. More words. “My band had a show, and I was freaking out at it like I always do. The crowds…they get in my head. And then after, paparazzi were chasing me. When I got to Maryanne’s, I just wanted to forget, you know? I just needed to forget, so Maryanne gave me a bunch of stuff…” In, out, in, out. “I don’t even know what all I took. That’s bad. Has to be bad, right?” Gramps doesn’t answer, but then I don’t need him too. “Alcohol, too. I’m not usually much of a drinker, but, yeah. I was feeling it that night.”

  I bite my thumbnail. “The room we were in was pretty quiet, but it all felt loud in my head. There was dancing, I think? Yeah, Maryanne was dancing and laughing.” Flashes of that night pummel me. Drinking, spinning, dancing, laughing, falling… I haven’t let myself think about it at all. “It’s almost like I knew something was wrong. That I was way too messed up. My body felt it, like it was screaming and fighting against itself or something, but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  My cheeks are wet. Holy shit. I’m crying.

  “It was like a fade to black, in and out. Part of me wanted to laugh with her, I think, because I stumbled and couldn’t get up, and I knew that should be funny but not funny at the same time.” I’m talking faster now, needing to get it out. It’s like poison inside me, festering, and the only way to get rid of it is to hurry up and get the words out.

  “Maryanne fell next to me. I think we were on the floor of her room. I can’t even fucking remember, but I know my body needed to get it out. I wasn’t conscious, but I was. Like my brain was on, but the rest of me wasn’t. I knew Maryanne was rolling me over…hitting me on the back. And…that’s all. Next thing I knew, I was at the hospital. I almost aspirated.” I shake my head. “They had to pump my stomach. My mom… God, I think I broke her. She’s been through so much with my dad, and then I broke her, too.”

  I wipe my eyes, wishing I could bring myself to look at Gramps.

  My leg still bounces.

  In. Out. In. Out. I try to focus on my breathing.

  “Mom and my manager made me come here. I haven’t done anything I’m not supposed to since Maryanne left. It’s like I fucking hate it. Hate the pills in my bag, but I love them, too. I want to trash them, but I can’t make myself do it.” When I finally look at Gramps, his eyes are wet. “Does that count for anything? I mean, I know I’m still screwed-up, but the fact that I
don’t want to be that way anymore? Does that matter?”

  Gramps’s hand comes down on my shoulder, and he squeezes. “It matters, son. It matters.”

  I let his words sink in. Hear how he calls me son. That matters, too.

  I let out a deep, shaky breath. “How do I tell her? I need to tell her.” My voice actually cracks.

  “The same way you told me. You can do it, son. I’m damn proud of you right now.”

  It feels good and bad at the same time. It feels so good for her to tell me he’s proud, but I don’t feel like I’ve done anything yet. This isn’t enough to be my “one thing” Gary was talking about. “But they forced me to come here. I didn’t do it on my own. And I haven’t been completely clean.”

  “One step at a time. Can I have them? The pills in your bag?”

  No!

  In. Out. In. Out.

  “Can you take them while I’m gone? My suitcase is in the closet. There’s a slit cut in the back. They’re in there.”

  Gramps nods. “One step at a time.”

  I can do that, I think. Some of the weight on me falls off my shoulders. “I’m going to tell her tomorrow after the game. I want to…” I clear my throat. “I don’t know…maybe that’s my first step to deserving her. And…rehab. I’m going to talk to Gary about rehab.” They’re my words, but I struggle to believe I said them. Two months ago, I never would have imagined this, but I need it. Need it for me, so I can take care of Mom and for everyone else who is important in my life. “I don’t want to be a screw up anymore… It’s time I was better. Try and be happy like Gary says.”

  Gramps puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing good, son. We’ll get through this together. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  I pull Gramps to me and hug him, wishing I knew how to say thanks. That I need him. That he’s been like a father to me, but more because he chose to be here. The way he squeezes me back shows me he already knows.

  There’s a loud rumble of a truck from outside. Gramps and I pull apart and I wipe my face again. Gramps gives my arm another squeeze before I walk away. I get to the garage door when he calls, “Just don’t fuck it up, Rookie.” There’s laughter in his voice.

 

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