by Amy L. Gale
As I reach the far end of the parking lot someone yells my name. I quicken my pace, but the sound becomes louder. You’ve got to be kidding me! Please let me be hearing things. The blood drains from my face and my body tenses.
“Why does that guy know your name?”
“That would be my scumbag, cheating ex.” What the hell is he doing here? I try to lose him and dash back to the bus, but he easily catches up with me, yelling my name over and over again. Thank God he’s on the other side of the fence.
“What!” I turn and yell, placing my hands on my hips.
Jesse glares at me through the chain links, gripping the fence. “Wow, I had to come and see it to believe it. You really did run off with some rocker. Are you insane?”
“The only insane thing I’ve done in my life was date you. Why the hell are you in Ohio? It’s a five hour drive from Lakeview U,” I scream, throwing my hands up in the air.
“I came here to see you and talk some sense into you. I had no idea you turned into some groupie whore.”
“Watch your mouth asshole, we’re not groupies!” Jenna yells through gritted teeth. The fire in her eyes is unmistakable.
“Yeah ok, whatever you want to be called honey.”
Jesse’s arrogance won’t fly with Jenna.
“Um, first of all, I’m not your honey, and from the looks of you neither is anyone else. And you can call me Mrs. Crane. My husband is in the band you asshole!” Jenna storms off leaving me there to handle Jesse on my own. I guess I can’t blame her, why should she have to deal with my leftover baggage?
“I have no idea what you came here to see, but I hope your curiosity is satisfied. Now you can go home and leave me alone.” I glare at him, willing him to turn around and leave.
“Jesus, Lexie, look at you. If you had been half as much of a whore as you are now maybe I wouldn’t have cheated.”
Footsteps stomp up behind me. I turn around. Jenna, Marcus, and Van are walking quickly toward me. Jenna didn’t leave me to fend for myself, she went to get reinforcements.
Jesse’s mouth falls open and his head jerks back when Van puts his arm around my waist. Is he in disbelief that such an attractive man would be interested in me?
Van looks at me, lowering his brow. “Lexie, are you ok?”
“I could care less what this asshole thinks of me,” I say, pointing at Jesse.
Jesse smirks. “Oh please, I don’t need shit from you and your band friends.”
“Dude, you’re the one who drove out here and paid to see our show,” Marcus shouts.
“I just came to see what a slut Lexie’s made of herself. It certainly looks like you’ve excelled with that.” Jesse sneers and begins to back away.
Van walks toward the fence. “What did you just fucking say? No one talks to her like that.”
Rage is smoldering in his eyes as his nostrils flare. His hands are balled into fists and shaking like a volcano about to erupt. He locks onto Jesse like a lion about to take down its prey. I have to stop Van before this gets out of hand. I step in front of him, and put my hand on his chest. He looks down at me.
“He’s not worth it. Let’s just go. He can go home alone like the worthless piece of trash that he is.” I throw my arms around Van, praying I can get him to come back to the bus with me.
He lets out a deep sigh, puts his arm around me, and turns around. We start walking away from Jesse.
“That’s alright, you can have her. I was just about done with the tramp anyway!” Jesse yells.
A low groan sounds from Van’s throat. He drops his arm from my shoulder and darts back toward Jesse, jumping the fence and charging at him. Jesse’s eyes widen as six feet of pure muscle collides with his body. Van is like a rabid animal. He punches Jesse in the face, his eye swelling immediately to the size of a golf ball. Blood splatters onto Jesse’s shirt as Van pummels him, busting his lip and nose. Even though Jesse falls to the ground, Van continues his assault, kicking him in the ribs then hovering over him, punching him in the mouth.
These few minutes last an eternity. Marcus jumps the fence and pulls Van off of Jesse, while Jesse curls up into a ball and lays helpless on a small patch of grass. Van and Marcus jump back over the fence and stand next to us.
“Maybe his mouth will swell enough to teach him when to shut it,” Van turns toward me and lifts my chin. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to walk away, but I couldn’t. I don’t care what anyone says about me, but no one insults you and gets away with it.” Van presses his forehead against mine.
I grip his biceps and slam my lips into his. “Thank you for defending my honor.”
“I’m pretty sure he won’t bother you again.” Marcus is bent over catching his breath; his hands on his knees.
I guess I have to relive the story one more time for Tyler and Chaz. Van’s knuckles are swollen and bloody. My stomach turns and tears fill my eyes as I gently clean the fresh wounds. Why did Jesse have to show up and run his mouth? If he didn’t learn his lesson tonight he never will.
Good thing we still have ice. I take some from the bucket, wrap it in a paper towel and hold it onto Van’s knuckles. We cuddle up on one of the bottom bunk beds. Hmm, I may have misjudged these sleeping arrangements. I wrap my body around Van’s and rest my head on his chest. The strong, steady beat of my white knight’s heart lulls me to sleep.
CHAPTER 10—FOURTH OF JULY
The next several days bring more driving than anything as we continue moving westward. Devil’s Garden plays a few small arenas; all sold out shows. Time is flying. The Fourth of July is just about upon us.
I close my eyes and sink my head into the soft cushion. Back home the Water’s Barbeque should be televised nationally. Bursts of red, gold, and green fireworks light up the night sky, and the mouth-watering aroma of the fifteen-foot buffet fills the air throughout the whole town of Cherry Falls. Mom may be wearing a black veil over her face this year. The family name is tarnished. Not only am I touring with a rock band over the summer, but I’m also missing the Fourth of July festivities. In my parents’ eyes, musicians are the stereotypical unfaithful, tattooed, drug addicts with no respect for women. They clearly know nothing about Van Sinclair.
I look down at Van, who’s resting his head in my lap as he lays on the couch. The soft, silky strands of his hair tickle my fingers as I brush a few locks away from his eyes, exposing the green abyss. I’m hypnotized. Blinking slowly, I reach for his hand and entwine our fingers. The skin on his knuckles is almost healed and back to its smooth flawlessness.
Fortunately, Jesse hasn’t bothered me since the fight. All it took was six stitches in his lip and a black eye. Oh well. He got exactly what he deserved. Luckily, Brooke and I chat almost every time Van is working out at the hotel’s gym. She keeps me in the loop about everything going on back home. Her high-pitched tones flow through the phone lines like a cheerleader whose team just won the big game. A good friend understands your heartache; a great friend makes your enemies hers. Jesse is at the top of our evil nemesis list.
I glance out the window as the tires screech and the bus comes to a stop. Large buildings scrape the clear blue sky and bumper to bumper traffic surrounds us in the Windy City. The steps leading to the hotel shine like the stairway into heaven.
Riding non-stop for days wears on your patience. Chaz will be missing a few fingers if he doesn’t stop biting his nails and spitting out the pieces. Yuck! Am I more excited to get off the bus or to get into the hotel room with Van? Alone time is hard to come by and I’m going into withdrawal. I clutch my overnight bag and dart for the door, almost knocking Van over.
He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I pull my bag through the aisle and step off the bus. “I’m shocked you’re taking so long. You better not be getting sick of me.”
Van gives me a seductive grin. “If I live to be 1000 years old, I won’t get enough of you.” He takes off, racing me to the door.
Giggling like childr
en we dash, our feet barely hitting the pavement, until we reach the front desk. Jenna scowls at us, her hand on her hip. When did she become so mature? Van grabs my face with both his hands and kisses me hard on the lips. My knees get weak and my head is spinning. I drop my bag and press my whole body against his, running my hands down his muscular back.
Jenna places her hands on both of our shoulders and pulls us apart. “I made a dinner reservation for us at seven o’clock. We’ll meet in the lobby at six forty-five.” She passes out our room keys, shaking her head.
We rush off, everybody going their separate ways. After spending every second of the last week together, a break from each other is as necessary as oxygen is in the air.
Another spectacular hotel room! We’re right on Lake Michigan with a full lake front view. The enormous king size bed, and marble fireplace scream romance and the chilled bottle of champagne and chocolates on our pillows are perfect for those of us in need of some passion.
Every spark of energy I lost from traveling quickly reignites. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the water in the oversized Jacuzzi tub, adding body wash to produce some bubbles. The musky aroma heightens my senses, awakening the seductress inside. I pull my hair into a loose bun, snatch the two glass flutes along with the bottle of champagne, and set them on the tile surrounding the tub. I peek out. Van is lying on the bed, stretching out over the crimson comforter.
“This room has quite the view.” I wet my lips and crawl onto the bed, pulling him up into a sitting position as I straddle his body.
He puts his arms around me, sliding his hands underneath the hem of my shirt while kissing my neck. Goose bumps erupt as he moves his fingers along my spine, slowly removing the slinky fabric. My breathing is rapid. I hold Van’s hands tight and pull him off the bed.
“Guess it’s bath time.” He steps forward, kissing my lips. His hands move from my hips to my back and continue up my spine, unhooking my bra and dropping it on the floor.
My heart quickens. I grip the hem of his soft T-shirt and slide it up his body. My eyes follow the fabric over each and every sculpted piece of flesh, before tossing the shirt to the side. I move my hands to the waist of his jeans and frantically pull at the button. Finally, it gives. I unzip them and pull down his boxers, allowing him to step out of his clothes.
He slithers his hands inside my shorts and places his fingers on each side of my bikini underwear, slowly easing them down while his lips descend along my neck. A trail of fire follows his fingertips, right down to my ankles. I step backward until the cool porcelain hits my legs and pull Van toward me. We both get into the water and lay side by side in the warmth, covered with bubbles.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me against him. Every hair on my body stands on end as a frenzy of tingles flow through me. I turn, meeting his lips with mine. He sucks my bottom lip, running his tongue along the inside rim. My breathing becomes rapid. I part my lips allowing his tongue to enter my mouth and slowly massage mine. My heart pounds as I run my hands down his chest and abs, continuing down to massage every inch of him. He groans and deeply inhales, pulling me on top of him. I straddle his body, one hand on each side of the tub, and bend over to kiss his neck. He holds onto my hips, slowly easing himself inside of me.
I moan as he fills my body with his manhood. I rock back and forth as he guides my hips with his hands. We move faster and faster, the pleasure building within, sending water and bubbles splashing over the side of the tub. My heart is hammering and my breathing’s brisk. I let out a loud moan, digging my fingers into his shoulders and clenching my muscles as I find my release. Holding me close, he lets out a loud groan as he finds his within seconds. I let my body collapse onto Van’s, my muscles completely weak.
Wow, that was intense.
I roll to the side, still panting and rest my head against the tub, reveling in the afterglow. My breathing evens out and the jets massage my muscles. Is it possible to be any more relaxed? I pour two glasses of champagne, handing one to Van. The bubbles tickle my nose as I take a sip.
“Pure perfection,” I say as I close my eyes, breathing in the sweet scent.
He winks at me. “Best bath of my life.”
Soaking in the water erases the negativity from our long ride. I look up at the clock. How can it be time to get ready for dinner already? Since our meals over the last week or so consisted strictly of fast food, a real dinner is an exceptional treat. Yay! I get to eat something not covered in grease or cooked in a microwave.
I slip on a slinky red dress over my black lace bra and panties. The cool silky fabric slides down my skin, causing the hairs to rise. My crystal embossed head band holds my brown curls in place. I gaze into the mirror one final time. Just the look I’m going for, sexy but not provocative.
“We may not make it to dinner.” Van looks me up and down, rubbing his tongue slowly along his lips.
I smile seductively, bending over and pushing my breasts together to tease him with my cleavage. He reaches for me and I pat his hand away. “Dinner before dessert.”
He presses his lips together and tilts his chin. “I enjoyed the appetizer.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes.
Van is a vision of pure perfection, dressed in black jeans and a green button down shirt, which flaunts the hue of his emerald eyes. My heart flutters as I stare at the glorious sight. He’s right; if we don’t leave soon we won’t make it to dinner.
My stiletto heels click on the marble floor. Van takes my hand as we exit the room, making our way to the elevator. As we start going down, he wedges me against the wall. I press my body against him and glide my hands up to his neck, weaving them in his damp hair. We passionately kiss until the bell rings and the door opens.
“Really guys, can’t you control yourselves for five minutes?” Jenna raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms as she and Marcus enter the elevator.
“I have no self-control when she’s near me,” Van says as he pulls me close.
I blush and pull away, running my fingers down his arm until our hands twine together.
Jenna’s strapless black dress is breathtaking. The sheer waistline shows just enough skin and the backless design is racy yet classic.
“Wow, that’s some dress,” I say, glancing up and down at the dark fabric.
Jenna twirls around, showing off her whole ensemble.
“Yeah, I hope I can make it through dinner.” Marcus pulls Jenna close, slamming his lips into hers.
“I never noticed your ink before. That’s a beautiful tattoo.” I stare at the intricate, colorful bird that graces the skin of Jenna’s upper back.
“It’s a phoenix, and Marcus has a Chinese dragon. They represent the yin and yang; two parts of a whole, a give and take.”
Marcus rolls up his sleeve to show me his tattoo. The colors of his dragon compliment Jenna’s phoenix.
“I love the symbolism,” I say as I examine the exquisite artwork. “Van, your dragon is different. Any reason behind your piece?” I touch his bicep, slowly running my fingers over his impressive tattoo.
“I have a medieval dragon. I always liked them when I was a kid, so I got the tattoo the day I turned eighteen.”
Jenna looks over my body. “Do you have any tattoos?”
“Nope, I’m a blank canvas. I’ve always wanted one though,” I answer as we step into the lobby, just about to enter the restaurant.
“There are some great artists in Chicago. Are you up for some ink after dinner?” Van rubs his thumb across my fingers as we walk to our table. “Since you like symbolism so much, I’ll get something to match yours.”
Oh my God, Van wants to get matching tattoos. My heart flutters. I’ve always wanted one, and I’m not opposed to having something to forever commemorate this time in my life, but it just seems so permanent. It’s sort of romantic, Van and I branding our bodies forever with the same image.
“Ok, I’m up for it.” I sit down at the dinner table, sipping my wine and trying to choo
se something to order that won’t clash with my nervous stomach. I twirl my hair around my fingers. I’m not a big fan of pain or blood.
“So Lexie, what are you guys going to get?” Marcus asks as he sips his beer.
After looking at Van’s medieval dragon and thinking about the tour, I have the perfect idea. “I was thinking it would be cool to get an asphodel flower. In Greek mythology, it was believed to dominate the fields of the dead in the underworld. It seems appropriate while on a Devil’s Garden tour, since it’s the flower that would actually be in the devil’s garden.” Ha! My mythology elective did come in handy.
“Very cool! I’ll get some put in my dragon’s claws, like he’s carrying them from the land of the dead.”
The gleam and sparkle in Van’s eyes is hypnotic. I stare into them, helplessly captured by the warm, green tone. My hands start to fidget and tremble. I take a deep breath and grip the napkin on my lap.
We all order steaks for dinner, clearly not the most easily digestible food. The soft texture of the divinely flavorful beef melts in my mouth. Wow, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I should probably eat light, but can’t help myself.
According to the concierge, there’s a reputable tattoo parlor across town. We all jump into a cab and make our way through the city. A sour taste engulfs my mouth and my stomach grows queasier with every passing minute. Please don’t let me pass out and make a fool of myself.
The tattoo studio is housed in a big building painted in bold primary colors with a neon sign reading ‘Best Ink’. The burgundy walls hold images of hundreds of different designs. Everything looks hospital-grade clean. Whew! That’s a pleasant surprise.
A tall, lanky man walks up to us, both his arms covered in a variety of intricate tattoos. My eyes focus on the large holes in his earlobes, filled with neon green spacers. How can he wear that stocking cap in this weather? It is July.
