by Lisa Suzanne
I’ll be starting my career fresh with a brand-new band.
I pack up my apartment as best I can and leave the rest for the moving company coming through in a few days to bring my stuff to LA. I fill an extra suitcase with my clothes, say tearful goodbyes to my family and friends, and then I’m back on an airplane heading back toward the new city I’ll call home.
It’s late afternoon Friday when I check back into the same hotel. I take a shower to freshen up, and I treat myself to a glass of wine to take the edge off.
I chuckle as I remember saying that the night we met when I ordered a Long Island iced tea.
I’m nervous.
I don’t know if he’ll show up, and if he does, I don’t know what I’ll say to him.
I said it would be our second chance, so this night represents a lot.
Unless he shows up just to tell me it’s over...a possibility I refuse to focus on even though it’s real.
I head down early to get something to eat, and I pair my dinner with another glass of wine. My food and wine are both gone and it’s still a good half hour until eight.
I order another glass. I might be getting just a little tipsy at this point, but I keep going.
I watch the clock on my phone as the minutes tick slowly by. Twenty-nine minutes.
Twenty-eight.
My third glass of wine arrives.
Twenty-seven.
I drink half of it down, and I stare at the television showing some replay of a football game. I’m not really watching, but the people next to me are, and they yell and shout at the screen.
I’m sitting in the same chair he sat in when I tapped him on the shoulder that first night.
Part of me wonders if I should’ve chosen another seat. He might walk in, do a quick sweep, decide he doesn’t see me, and leave.
And so, I keep turning my head toward the doorway to see if he’s coming.
Eighteen minutes.
I blow out a breath.
I finish my glass of wine.
Fourteen minutes.
I order one more.
Ten minutes.
My heart picks up speed.
My chest tightens.
My stomach forms knots.
Seven minutes.
Can time move backward?
It seems like it’s moving backward.
It’s a slow crawl to get to eight, and I try to remember why I said eight and not seven.
I can’t come up with the reason.
I finish that last glass and sign my bill, charging my wine and dinner to my room, which Ashmark has promised to foot the bill for. I chug some water.
I think about using the restroom because now I really have to go, but I don’t want to miss him if he shows up. I don’t want him to think I didn’t show because I was in the bathroom.
Three. Two. One minute.
I glance toward the door.
It opens, and my heart races.
Someone who isn’t Gage walks through, and my heart slows.
The knots in my stomach tighten.
The door opens again.
Not Gage.
I look up at the television screen.
Football game. Don’t care.
I glance toward the door. Not Gage.
Dang, that door opens and closes a lot.
I check the time.
Two minutes past eight.
He’s either late or he isn’t coming.
I pin my hopes on late.
Five minutes past.
I glance at the door.
At ten minutes past, I finally resign myself to the fact that he isn’t showing up. Maybe he didn’t hear my words the night of the finale, or maybe he didn’t feel them back. Whatever the case, he didn’t want this second chance, and it’s time to head up to my room and wallow in that for a while.
After I use the restroom, of course.
I saunter across the lobby, take care of business, and stare at myself in the mirror for a beat.
We were so incredibly happy for that one weekend. Why’d it have to end? Why’d we both have to be on the same show competing for the same ultimate prize?
Will I see him around Ashmark?
Maybe. We’re signed to the same label now, or we will be once the paperwork is all filed.
Will it be awkward when we do eventually cross paths again?
Probably. For me anyway—since I’m the one who lost everything in this equation.
I draw in a deep breath. I look up at the ceiling to try to ward off the tears stinging behind my eyes.
And then I walk out of the bathroom and start my trek across the lobby toward the elevators.
CHAPTER 59: GAGE
Shit.
I silently will the driver to just drive faster, but I don’t dare say it aloud. The one time I did, the guy got pulled over for speeding, and fuck if I have time for that tonight when I’m already running late.
I glance at the clock for the millionth time.
It seems like it’s speeding up as each minute past eight turns to another one, and she definitely will think I’m a no show—well, she will if she even bothered to show, something I still don’t actually know the answer to.
I was watching Ruby Ray and her band practice since they use our living room as their practice facility, and Rascal was asking my opinion on some riff in a song, and I lost track of time.
I don’t have my car here yet, and I ordered my Lyft just two minutes later than I’d planned to.
It was all fine. I was still on track to be on time.
And then we hit traffic. An accident on the other side of the road. Gapers staring at the accident as we drive by, causing huge delays.
And me, the guy running late to meet the girl for our second chance.
The car finally pulls up to the hotel and I bolt. I run into the lobby and scan the bar.
I don’t see her long, dark hair anywhere.
My eyes land on the vacant chair where I sat the night we first met.
I’m only fifteen minutes late. Did she run out of here that fast...or did she not bother to show up at all?
I scan through all the people at the bar one more time, my chest aching with disappointment.
What do I do now? Text her? Forget her?
I can’t forget her.
I won’t forget her. Ever.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn toward the lobby to slide into one of the chairs there while I figure out what to say. When I look up from my phone as I turn around, my eyes lock on a woman who seems to have paused mid-step on her trek across the hotel lobby.
Her wide eyes are on mine, and a switch seems to flip as I watch what appears to be devastation turn into hope.
The ache burning in my chest seems to dissipate.
Everything moves in slow motion. I take a step across the lobby toward her, but she’s still frozen in place.
I take another step, and I feel the low bass of my footstep echo all around me and inside me, all the way from the tips of my toes to the edges of my ears.
I take another step and another, and then I close the final gap between us.
I stare down into her eyes as I try to come up with words—preferably meaningful words, but really any words will do—and I can’t seem to form them.
She’s here.
I’m here.
This is our second chance.
All the caveman thoughts plague me about what this means, and nothing going through my head at the moment would be appropriate to say aloud right now.
I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, grazing her cheek with my knuckles as I withdraw my hand, and she closes her eyes for a beat as she leans into my touch.
When she opens her eyes, they’re heated. “Motley Crue,” she says softly. “You came.”
“Nashville.” One side of my mouth lifts. “So did you.”
We stare at each other another beat, and then we both move at the same time. She crashes into me, and I pull her against my
body. Our mouths collide, and I don’t know if this hotel has some magical powers for us or what but it just feels like everything is going to be okay.
Better than okay.
Maybe because she’s here in my arms again—the place where she belongs.
It feels like we’re at the start of the most important piece of my life’s puzzle.
Her hand finds my cheek, and her fingertips graze along my jaw. I wrap my arms more tightly around her, our kiss turning too passionate for a hotel lobby.
I pull back, but only from her mouth. I still clutch her in my arms, my fingers digging into the flesh of her back as I start my impassioned speech that I’ve said in my head a million times. “I love you,” I say. “I’ve loved you since the day you were semi-naked on a massage table next to me, and I wish I could take back every stupid thing I’ve said and every mistake I’ve made, but I can’t and it doesn’t matter anyway. I want to be with you. I want to take these next steps with your hand tight in mine.”
She stares at me for a beat before she responds. She presses her lips to mine softly and just for a quick beat. “I love you. So much. I know we’ve got obstacles and challenges ahead, but I want to figure them out together.”
I lean my forehead to hers. “You and me.”
“Me and you. I promise that no matter what happens, I will never, ever abandon you.”
“And I promise that whatever happens, I will never order anything with cinnamon in it.”
She laughs and smacks me in the arm, and then she kisses me again.
And then we take it upstairs to her room because, well, we can’t exactly fuck here in the hotel lobby.
When we get to her room, she seems hesitant and we haven’t even left the doorway yet.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I just...this is all happening so fast,” she says.
I realize we have plenty of time for all the sex, and that’s not why I showed up tonight...but I still feel a sense of disappointment.
“Then let’s take it slow,” I say.
“I, um, had four glasses of wine,” she says, moving toward me. She boxes me in with her hips, pinning me against the door, and I let her. “I’m not drunk since I was able to build a tolerance during filming, but I’m a little tipsy and I know what I want.” Her lips move to my neck, her breath hot.
And then her hand moves to my jeans, and she cups my dick over my pants and Jesus Christ it’s been way too long since I’ve been with her and just the thought of sex right now makes me feel like I’m going to lose it.
“Fuck me, Gage,” she murmurs, her eyes hazy with lust, and I’ve never heard that word drop from her lips in the short time I’ve known her but holy hell between the need in her eyes and the way she’s touching me and the words we just said to one another...it’s the hottest damn thing I’ve ever heard. “Fuck me right now.”
And so I gladly give the woman what she wants.
CHAPTER 60: LEXI
I don’t think I’ve ever uttered those words to a man before, but the heat of the moment overtook everything, including my normally somewhat more proper mouth.
I need him.
I need him inside me, on top of me, surrounding me. I need to breathe him in and I need to feel him. I need to know that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here and he really loves me.
I need to know that we’re both moving forward from the mistakes of our past to a future that we can navigate together.
His mouth is hot on mine, and clearly the words I spoke worked since he’s thrusting his hips against me and I can feel that solid piece in his pants he’s about to use to bring me to the throes of pleasure.
Except he decides that this is the time he’s going to take his time.
I’m filled with a well of need and lust and want for this man, and he’s kissing me like he has forever.
And maybe he does. Maybe we do.
But I also have an ache pressing between my legs that he has the power to quell.
We didn’t have all the time in the world the last time we were together like this. We both knew there was an expiration date. But the words we just said to one another held a layer of promise that was missing before.
And that layer means absolutely everything.
It’s infusing our kiss with more passion and more adoration, and I can only imagine what that layer will bring to the table once we’re stripped naked.
His hand cups my neck, and I’m reminded of the times my eyes fell to those talented hands as I watched him play bass.
His fingers dig into my hip, and I’m reminded of the time we had sex in another room in this hotel and he similarly clutched me to him.
He walks us backward over to the bed, and then he turns and pulls me down on top of him so I’m straddling his legs. He pushes his hips up toward me, and I meet his by slamming down on his lap.
He grunts. I grunt. We do it again.
Somehow we didn’t need more getting to know you time because we’ve been there. We spent the entire competition ignoring the flame that burned between the two of us, and now it’s a wild inferno that’s completely out of our control.
He reaches under my shirt and unsnaps my bra with the flick of his wrist.
I reach under his shirt and pull it over his head.
He cups my breasts as he continues to kiss me, thumbing my nipples in that way he does that feels familiar even while it feels so completely brand new.
He reaches beneath my hair and cups my neck, pulling my mouth still closer to his. I don’t know if I’ve ever been kissed with this much passion and desire before in my life, and that only tells me that he wants this as much as I do.
And I don’t mean sex, though we both definitely want that.
I mean a future together.
He pulls my shirt over my head and pulls me against him for a few beats, my breasts smashed against his chest. He kisses me again before he trails his lips down. He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, and I arch back and shove my breast more fully at him. He lavishes it with attention before giving the other one the same tender care, all the while thrusting his hips toward me as a way of doing everything he can to show me how much he wants this...how much he wants me.
He flips me without warning so I’m lying on the bed, and he nuzzles my breasts before moving his lips down to my stomach.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs against my skin.
I run my fingers through his hair then down toward the scruff on his jaw. He looks up at me, and the heat in his eyes is almost enough to send me flying over the edge of desire and need.
He trails kisses down further, and when he gets to the top of my jeans, he pops the button and pulls down the zipper. He looks up at me from down there, his eyes hooded and dark, a little sly smile playing at his lips, and then he helps me out of my jeans and panties so I’m lying on the bed naked.
He dives face first into me, and oh dear God he knows what he’s doing with that magic tongue of his.
He licks through me before dipping his tongue inside me, and then he lavishes my clit with extra attention. I tug at his hair and squeeze my legs and lose all control of the volume of my moans as he sends me into oblivion. White speckles dot my vision, and my eyes squeeze shut as I allow the pleasure to take hold of my body.
Waves of bliss surge through me, and when it starts to subside, he pulls back. He grabs a condom from his pocket and rolls it on, and then he steps out of his jeans and boxers and walks lazily over to me, his erection pointing straight up at the ceiling and his abs practically shimmering in the light.
He moves over me and hovers there for a beat, and then he pulls me up. He sits on the bed and positions me over him, and I slide down right onto him. We both groan at the feel of each other, familiar once again and yet somehow brand new all over again.
And then he guides the pace from the bottom. I cling on around his neck as he takes me for the ride of my life, bouncing me up and down over him, both of us lost in the feel and the
emotions and each other.
He kisses me, and then he lowers his face to my breasts again. He grunts a few more times and pushes up hard into me before he lets go, and just as he starts to slow his pace, he thumbs my clit a few times and sends me into my own second release.
We collapse beside one another for a few beats. He gets up to take care of the condom, and I clean up too, and then I click off the light. We lie together quietly for a while, my head on his chest in the dark hotel room.
Just when I think he’s fallen asleep, he whispers into the darkness the few words that somehow completely encapsulate exactly what I’m feeling.
“This is too damn good not to figure out how to make it work.”
He’s right.
We will figure it out. It’s too important not to.
But first...I have some pretty big news that we haven’t even gotten to quite yet, and I have no idea how my future career might throw a wrench into our best laid plans.
CHAPTER 61: GAGE
“What’s it like being in MFB?” she asks softly.
It’s dark in here, and it sort of feels like midnight confessions. I want to be honest...but I also want to be sensitive to what she might be feeling.
I figured this would come up sooner or later. I’m not sure how to answer as a sense of tense awkwardness falls between us.
It’s been fucking awesome.
It’s been a goddamn dream.
It’s been amazing how easily I’ve fallen into a routine like I’ve been there forever.
But the band is on hiatus. There isn’t much action just yet even though they’ve basically initiated me into their covenant.
“I, uh...” I trail off as I try to find the words. “It’s been fine. Mostly signing contracts and getting to know the guys. Trying to find my place. That sort of thing.”
“I don’t know if I really said this, but congratulations,” she says.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. I wish I could see her, see her eyes and try to figure out what she’s thinking.
“You deserved it,” she says. “It was obvious that you were the better fit, and I told the guys that in my interview.”
“You what?” I ask.
