by Jesse Jordan
“Oh? Bentleys and a mansion in the hills? Or maybe a sailboat down in Cabo?” I joke, and Rocky laughs. “I didn't think so. So, what?”
“I'd like the quiet life to go with the rest of it, people I can trust. I think that's the hardest part about the music industry, or I guess anything in entertainment. I feel like the whole machine is built on the idea of kissing your ass when you're on top or the way up and kicking that same ass when you’re on the way back down. I don't really like that part of things,” Rocky says somberly. “There are days that I kind of miss just jamming in my garage with you, Chris, and Tim. When the music was pure, and the friends were pure too.
We finish our tacos, and I lean back, rubbing my stomach. “I'd say dessert, but I'd like to still be able to fit into my jeans Monday morning. This has been a lot of fun, Rocky.”
“Thanks,” Rocky says, looking out towards the ocean. “Uh... Cora, would you like to take a walk with me? My place isn't far from here, and we can get there most of the way via the beach.”
“Let's start with a walk on the beach, charmer,” I tease, taking his hand again. “But yeah, I think a little walk would be nice. We'll see what happens after that.”
Chapter 10
Rocky
We have to walk a block up the road to a light before we can cross the PCH safely and reach the beach, but for me, it's thrilling as Cora lets me put my arm around her shoulder the whole time. She's the perfect height too in the flats she's wearing, my arm just rests like it's always meant to go around her. Looking back, she's almost always been the perfect height for me, once my growth spurt hit right around the same time I told her I wanted to be a rock singer.
There are a few other people on the sidewalk, but overall, we have privacy as we cross the street and reach the beach access. I'm wearing boots that are not meant for sand, but they are tall enough that I won’t be scrubbing grit from between my toes.
“By the way,” I mention as we reach the sand, “I really like your hair tonight. The day to day ponytail works for you, but tonight… Well, maybe I sound like a broken record, I feel like I've said it at least a dozen times, but you look amazing.”
“Every girl likes compliments,” Cora jokes, putting her left arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. “Although I think we're going to have to make a rule. Either you're doing ponytails, or I am. We're not allowed to go on dates with both of us wearing them simultaneously. It's a good look for you, by the way.”
“I've always wondered,” I muse, tucking the part that Martha insisted I leave free back behind my ear, “I mean, I get it. Rock is supposed to be about being rebels. But, if everyone's being a rebel, am I really being a rebel anymore with the long hair?”
“True... but Joey's got the short hair covered, and Ian looks like he's wearing a mop on his head half the time. Does he ever brush his hair?”
“Every other Tuesday, when he can remember to,” I joke, causing Cora to laugh. Has she always had such a musical, pretty laugh? I guess so. “I promise you this though. No pigtails for me, that's a look I'll never try.”
“And no Mohawks,” Cora admonishes me. “A shorter cut I can see, maybe something a little shaggy, but if you try to go full punk, or fully shaved, I'm going to have to kick you in the shin.”
“Note to self, buy motorcycle boots before getting a haircut,” I joke, and Cora laughs again. We make our way through the sand, and I'm more and more conscious of Cora's body pressed against mine. How could I have overlooked someone so beautiful for all those years? I guess I really was stupid back in high school. “Cora?”
“Hmmm, Rocky?” she asks, and I stop, looking at her in the moonlight that's streaming from the sky and reflecting off the Pacific. “What is it?”
I look into her eyes, and I lean down, touching foreheads with her. “I've spent all night thinking about how crazy I've been to overlook you. Tell me, when you let me take you to the prom, was that really as my friend? Did you just go with me because we were buddies?”
Cora smiles, shaking her head slightly, our foreheads rubbing together. The rubbing is as intimate as a hug really, and we're so close that I can actually feel the pulse of her breath on my cheek when she talks. “No. You don't know how much you pissed me off not treating me as a date back then. In fact...”
Cora steps back for balance before she reaches up and taps my shin lightly with her foot, smiling. “There. Your first and only warning. Now, don't overlook me again when you ask me out on dates, even if you do have an audience waiting for you.”
I laugh, putting my hands on Cora's waist, pulling her closer, letting my instincts take over. She comes effortlessly, and the feeling of her pressed against me is warm, close, and amazingly sexy. “Cora, I do believe that I want to kiss you.”
“Hmm... I think that would be nice,” she teases, putting her arms around my neck. She lifts her chin, and I bring my lips to hers. We're hesitant at first. I mean, this is Cora, my best friend in my arms and I'm kissing her, but it grows deeper, our arms tightening as a connection is made. There's a reality about Cora that is different from any other person in my life and I realize, tasting her sweet lips and feeling her body pressed against mine, that I've really wanted her for years.
Maybe that's why all the other girlfriends didn't work out. Maybe, what I was really looking for was the girl that was there all along. I reach out with my tongue, and Cora opens up, her tongue caressing mine as she pulls my head down deeper into our kiss, stepping back only when we both need to breathe, our hearts pounding in our chest. My entire body is buzzing, and my pants are definitely about three sizes too tight right now. “Wow.”
“Wow is right,” Cora whispers, smiling. “Rocky Blake, you are one amazing kisser.”
“Look who's talking. That is the best, and I am being totally serious, the best kiss I've ever had. Where'd you learn how to do that?” I ask, and Cora smiles. “What?”
“Nothing,” Cora says, taking my hand. “Just... like I said earlier, a girl likes to get compliments. And while it's nice to hear you and the guys compliment my work, hearing things like that from you is nicer, in their own way.”
We walk along the sand some more, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing on the sand in the moonlight until I see the lifeguard tower that I use as the landmark when I've gone running along the beach with Joey, and I stop. “Cora, I know that this seems like a rush, and maybe cheesy or inappropriate... but would you still like to join me at my apartment for a nightcap?”
“What time is it?” Cora asks, stopping and pulling her phone out of her purse, checking the time. “Hmmm.... nine thirty. Okay, Rock. But Rocky... I'm not staying the night. I need to leave in time to get back to my place by midnight.”
I laugh, taking her hand. “Come on, Cinderella, let's see if we can still enjoy the rest of this fairy tale then before that damn carriage I saw earlier in front of my apartment turns back into a pumpkin.”
Cora laughs, getting the joke, and squeezes my hand. “Well, I don't know if I can qualify as Cinderella, but I am most certainly feeling like a princess right now. In fact, I'm pretty much feeling like this is the best date I've ever had, and that's one hundred percent because of who I'm with right now.”
It's not far from the beach to my apartment, and I'm glad that Martha set us up with such a convenient and chic place to go on our date. Cora lets me lead her up the steps, looking around, noticing the busted-out security lights and the pool in the middle of the complex that I wouldn't let my worst enemy swim in, the greenish slime is so thick. “Yeah, you're going to be upgrading this place I assume after this next album drops.”
I laugh lightly, leading her up the steps and opening my front door. “I totally plan on upgrading. Come on in. Would you like anything?”
“Ah... nothing stronger than a glass of wine, but if not, coffee would be good too,” Cora says, taking a seat on my sofa. She looks around, noting the bare walls and cheap furniture that came with my place. “Minimalist decoration, interesting.�
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“Better than old posters and black lights,” I joke, heading into my kitchenette. “I've got some red wine. How's that? It was a gift from someone last Christmas, so don't blame me if it sucks.”
“That'll be fine,” Cora laughs as I get out my corkscrew, it's part of the manual can opener that I bought down at the dollar store. “So... upgrading?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, twisting the corkscrew in before pulling it. The cork lets go with a satisfying pop. I rarely drink alcohol at all unless I'm out with friends, but I did a pretty good job with opening the bottle, I think. “Anyway, a musician we toured with said that when he and his band got started back in the nineties, he lived in a place kinda like this too. Even with the crazy costumes and with the wild life on tour, back home he drives a minivan and lives in a gated community. I asked him how one of the biggest bands in years lives in a place like that, he said that a lot of the big acts do it. They do it because they just want to have privacy, to have a little area where they aren't being hounded by fans all the time. He told me that a lot of folks go in one of two directions. You get those who love the bright lights, and some of them just live for it. They thrive in it. Then you get those who find their measure of peace. The key, he joked, was to not go overboard and become Michael Jackson.”
I pour two glasses of wine and pass one to Cora who laughs and takes a sip. She savors it for a moment, then sets her glass on my side table. “Yeah, that'd be a problem. So, I take it you want to be both a Grammy award winner and a family man? Not quite the standard rock recipe.”
“Hey, if Springsteen and Phil Collins can do it, why not me?” I ask, sitting down on the couch next to her. “It might not match the public relations image, but I'll let the label worry about that. My job is making good music. And with you... we make beautiful music together. So, a toast, to Cora, who helps me make beautiful music.”
“We always have,” Cora says, clinking glasses with me before setting her glass aside and sliding closer. We kiss again, the deep, rich flavor of the red wine on her lips, and when I reach up to cup her breast through her blouse her answering moan lets me know how much she's enjoying it. When I squeeze slightly she reaches out, cupping my cock through my pants and rubbing, both of us wanting it.
“Wait,” she gasps, sitting back. Glancing at the clock, she shakes her head. “Rocky... I'm sorry, I can't.”
“What's wrong?” I ask, my cock throbbing inside my pants. I haven't had sex in months. Not since I broke up with my last girlfriend. And I never felt with her how I feel for Cora. “Is it because you don't know if I'm safe? Don't worry, I have condoms, and I had to get a physical two months ago as part of the Gashouse contract, STDs included. I'm clean as a whistle.”
“No, it's not that,” Cora says, standing up shakily. I can see she's massively aroused, her nipples are bullet points against the thin material of her blouse, and she half staggers getting up, but she does it, biting her lip so hard that I bet she's going to have a bruise there tomorrow. She takes a deep breath, running her hand through her hair and looking up, her knees pressed together and her hand on her stomach. “I... Rocky, I have to go. Please... call me a cab?”
I look in her eyes, and part of me wants to push the issue. I want her badly, and not just because I haven't busted a nut in a while. There's something about the connection that I have with Cora, the intensity in just those two kisses that has my mind sparking. Ideas I'd never even considered before are flashing through my brain. I can't call it love at first sight, I've known Cora for over half my life, but I can call it something amazing.
You push now, and you ruin it for the long term, the normally ready-to-fuck-at-the-drop-of-a-hat side of my mind says, and I nod, standing up. “Okay. Have a seat. You're in pain I can see, and I'll go call now. But Cora, if this is because you think I won't respect you or that I want this to be just a one-night thing…”
Cora shakes her head but sits down gratefully. I go to my kitchen and get her a glass of cold water, taking my phone out of my pocket to call for a cab. The cab company says that they'll have a car to my place in twenty minutes, and I take the glass to Cora. “Here, maybe this will help. I think it'll be safer if I sit over here on the floor instead of on the couch. To be honest, I'm feeling just as shaky as you are right now. I just seem to be able to stand a bit more easily.”
I arrange myself on the floor, sitting carefully to make sure my aching balls and cock don't get any more pressure on them from my pants and wishing for the first time I was in hip-hop, loose jeans or chinos would be very helpful right now. “So... uh, this is strange for me. I don't think I've ever sat around for fifteen minutes after a woman told me no before, trying to have a conversation. Actually, I can guarantee that, since I've never had a woman in this apartment before.”
“Really?” Cora asks in honest surprise, looking around. She takes in my décor and hums, then nods. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You know, I know I called it minimalist before, but this is certainly a subset of that, maybe garage sale chic? What motivated you when you decorated?”
I laugh, it helps and restores a little bit of the normalcy to the evening. “Honestly, I just never got around to it. First I was living with Ian, and we had a decent system when we had company, but after Gashouse signed us to two EPs before we dropped Slam the Floor, I decided that I had to find my own place. Ian had a relatively serious girlfriend at the time who was nice but had a habit of walking around the apartment butt naked which made me uncomfortable. Ian understood, we worked that out. That was two years ago, and I thought that I'd be able to find the time to kinda personalize this place, but... well, I guess I've never got around to it.”
Cora nods and takes another sip of cold water. “What was it like crashing with Ian? I mean, I know you three are tight, but you don't seem to have personalities that would be right for living together. Hanging out, sure. Being a damn good band, definitely. But I can't imagine you two living together.”
“Actually, I owe him a lot. He's kinda been the big brother for Joey and me. Sure, I'm the front man, but Ian's the guy who helped Joey and me avoid the biggest mistakes when we started on the road. While Mom and Dad would have had no problem with me staying at home, I think it was a good thing to stay with Ian for those few years. He was the guy who pointed out mistakes he made when he was eighteen and on the road for the first time. His being two years older than I am, made him more experienced. You see, his parents were in showbiz too. He doesn't talk a ton about it, I don't think all his memories are good ones, but he's been a good dude,” I reply, then look at her, a question coming to mind. “What about you? I mean, I had Ian, Joey, my folks. What about you? When I stopped by my folks' the other day to get some clear headspace, Mom mentioned that you're kinda a ghost around the old neighborhood. She's seen your car parked over at your parents' house every once in a while, but that's about it.”
Cora shrugs, and again I get the confusing feeling that there's something she's not telling me. It's the only thing that I don't like about this evening, the feeling that there's something she's hiding. “A lot of reasons for that, I guess. First, that I changed my mind and went two years instead of four years for my degree, I was so anxious to get out and start doing internships, stuff like that. I mean, in our neighborhood, you either went four years or you went military, we were middle-class white collar types, you know? For me to even think of that was pretty much on the level of being sacrilegious.”
I laugh, my disquiet forgotten, nodding. “Yeah, I caught a lot of flak around the neighborhood about my choice. Thankfully, Mom and Dad are totally cool with it, especially since they see that I'm getting close to making it.”
“My parents were cool too, but more importantly they let me try to make it on my own when I felt that was what I had to do. It was hard, and when things were tight, I applied for food stamps. That's not something that goes over well the neighborhood where we grew up. But most of all... I guess I've been a little ashamed about some of the paid jobs I've t
aken. You've got Slam the Floor, The Tonight Show, stuff like that. My first paid job was for a teen babysitter porno, and until I got this shot with the Fragments, my biggest profile full album was the soundtrack for movie.”
“I wouldn't knock it, Cora,” I protest, and Cora smiles. “Seriously, you were making money. I don't care about your work background. Hell, you should have seen some of the dives that the Fragments played in. That includes strip clubs. The first week after we started working together, I asked Martha to hook me up with a list of your previous projects, although she left off the pornos. I guess you did them under an assumed name?”
“Tiffany Tones,” Cora says with a self-deprecating laugh. “At least, that's what's on the IMDB. As soon as I gathered up enough credits on other stuff that I didn't need them, I dropped them from my official portfolio. So, what did you think?”
“You turned shit into Superman more often than should have been possible. And you did some guest spots too. Always at the core of each of them is the sound that I have come to know is yours. Clear, with as little foolishness as possible, but at the same time you make everyone up their game. That's talent, Cora. Real talent. I guess that I just regret not seeing you for you, and being blinded by just your talent five years ago. Or maybe I just had my head up my ass about trying to make it as a rock star, and not seeing that you were there the whole time.”
There's a beep outside my apartment building and my phone rings. Cora smiles and finishes her water before standing up. “That is perhaps the biggest compliment and the cutest thing anyone's ever said to me, wrapped up all in one, Rocky. Thank you.”
I get up off the floor and walk her to the door, opening it for her before walking her downstairs and out the front gate to the cab, stopping after opening the door. “Cora... if it isn't too much, would you mind if maybe I took you out again on a date?”
