by Sarah Gagnon
After the song ends, an official-looking guy in a suit walks on stage. “Sorry to break the bad news, but the mayor has just posted a state of emergency for the entire city. So we’re being forced to cut the concert short. The box office will be offering partial refunds of your tickets.”
“But we only heard one song!” a guy from behind yells.
Jeremy wants to keep playing. His lips move rapidly as he talks into his headset and he pushes buttons like he’s getting ready to start the next song.
“Unfortunately, the storm is beyond my control. Have a good night, everyone.”
The electricity cuts off and Jeremy’s screens go out. He strides across the stage and takes the mic. “I promise you this concert will be rescheduled for the next available time slot after the storm. All the proceeds will still be donated to the Global Skin Cancer Initiative.” The man motions him off the stage and his fists clench as he walks. I know how much he cares about getting money for the cause.
Claire turns to me as we stand. “At least we heard one song.”
I nod as the crowd behind us rushes to leave. Jeremy is exiting at the back of the stage. Derek notices me and jogs over as Jeremy steps through the curtain. “Monet, here.” He hands me a folded-up piece of paper and heads back toward the door Jeremy disappeared through.
I have to wait for the rest of the fans to file out before I can leave. I discreetly open the paper. A phone number and nothing else. I hope it’s Jeremy’s.
Eleanor stands under an umbrella, wide-eyed. “Hurry up. We’re not supposed to be on the streets.”
The concert venue is only a few blocks from the hotel. They should’ve just made us walk. I leave a dripping trail into the hotel and up to my room. The door has been replaced. The candy wrappers have been removed. I sit on my bed and wait. I can’t stop analyzing the show. My father being there, not caring about me. Jeremy did use his save card on me. That’s something, but what does he want me for? The competition is ending and he has his whole rockstar lifestyle.
I’ll give him an hour and then I’ll call.
TWENTY-ONE
THE CLOCK ON the wall slowly counts down the time. I break at fifty-five minutes.
Ringing. Derek materializes on the desk. “Hey, Derek, is Jeremy there?”
“Monet!”
“Is Jeremy back from the concert yet?”
“Yeah, he’s just getting in the door now. Hold on a sec.”
Derek fades out of range and Jeremy replaces him. Wet hair sticks to his forehead and he’s breathing hard like he just ran in. “Are you okay?” His voice sounds anxious. “You looked so sad on the show. I swear to you, I had no idea they were setting all you girls up for a confrontation at the end.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m okay. Just humiliated, you know? Not many people thought I would be very good for you.”
“That’s not true.” Now he sounds pissed. “They don’t know anything about you.”
I massage my shoulder and do a slow neck roll. “Maybe.”
“I’m coming to pick you up. Can you get away?”
“Yeah, with Praline in the hospital, no one will notice.”
“They told me. I still can’t believe it.” He fades in and out. I only hear bits of the conversation he’s having with Derek.
“Where are you?” I ask. Every few seconds the background of the image picks up his surroundings, and it doesn’t look like the hotel.
“I have an apartment in New York. They finally let me go home.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want to come over for a few hours?”
I feel like shit but… “Yeah.”
“Meet me in front of the hotel in ten minutes. I’ll be in a brown car. Just come right over, okay? I don’t want anyone else to see me.”
“Okay.”
He clicks off.
I’m sick. Overloaded. Up one minute, down the next. I pull out a change of clothes from my tote bag, but decide to just take the whole thing with me. It’s not like I have a lot of possessions, anyway.
I wait on the sidewalk, still in the purple dress, letting the storm coat me. I’ll probably have to return it in the morning. A gust of wind knocks me to one knee. When the brown car pulls up, I almost don’t believe it.
“Shit, Monet. You could’ve waited inside.” He reaches across the seat and rubs the goose bumps on my arm. With his hands off the steering wheel, the car slips into a low idle.
“The rain felt nice.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a frigging hurricane out there. State of emergency, remember? The eye should be over New York by morning.”
“Yeah.” I should ask about the other girls. Find out if he wants to be in a relationship with one of us, or if this is all for fun. Even if he said he did want me, that wouldn’t even be possible if I’m in Boston and he’s traveling all over. Maybe he knows that there can’t be anything long-term between us.
“Come here.” He pulls me over the center console and rubs his hands up and down my back, creating friction. I try not to flinch when he rubs over the Fluxem marks. I’m shaking in his arms, but I think it’s proximity and shock rather than cold. I need to accept this moment with him and not worry so much.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He runs his fingers along a strand of wet hair, then pulls my head tight against his chest. “You’re so cold.” His heart beats into my ear and I don’t feel cold anymore. He kisses the top of my head, and when he sighs the noise vibrates in his chest.
“Oh, Monet.” He holds my head in his hands and pulls back enough to look at me. His brow crinkles with worry. He softly kisses my eyelids and then releases me. He punches in coordinates on the steering wheel and the car slides out into traffic. The car drives itself, but you’re supposed to monitor the vehicle the entire time. Occasionally, there are glitches in the system. The rain hits the windshield, cutting visibility down to nothing, but the car continues on without being affected. If this is the end, I’ll be so sad. Don’t think about it.
“My apartment here in New York isn’t much. I have nicer places, but housing is hard to find in the city.” He drums his fingers on the top of the steering wheel nervously, which is silly considering I live in a hundred-square-foot apartment.
“I’m sure it’s the height of luxury compared to my house.” He raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t quite believe me and then glances back at the road.
“This is it.” He pulls to a stop in front of a skeletal steel building. Sections of metal and glass reflect the ambient light trapped in gray clouds. He climbs out of the car first and I pat the door, trying to find the touch panel that will release me. He opens the door from the outside before I can figure it out. God, I hope he doesn’t think I was waiting, expecting him to open the door for me. Rain drips off his nose as he offers me his hand climbing out. My tote bag drips water down the side of my leg. So much for dry clothes. We hustle to the canopy overhanging the front entrance of the building. The air swirling around me feels aggressive.
“I wonder if the hurricane will spark tornados?” I ask.
“I think we’re safe in this area.”
I nod. Derek comes out of the building and tips his head up at the sky. “Hey, Monet, I, uh, watched the competition. Bummer about your dad.” He jogs off to the idling car and takes Jeremy’s place behind the navigation panel, presumably to bring the car underground to park. Bummer, yeah, that about covers it.
I shiver as the wind whips up my skirt. The rain slides down the center of my spine. “Let’s get you inside.” Jeremy’s hand is burning hot when he laces his fingers with mine. He scans his hand and then retina at the door. High security. Then he scans in again at the elevator. “I live on the top floor,” he explains as the minutes pass and the door doesn’t ding. “Hundredth floor.”
“Does Derek live with you?”
“He has an apartment down the hall, with cameras that monitor the entrance to mine. Another one of my guards lives with him, so they can switch shifts.”
I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. How weird to be important enough to need protection. Even weirder that the one point of contact between our two hands heats up my whole body. I have these few hours with Jeremy. If they’re my last, I’m going to enjoy them. Now that I can afford the cure, I have a future. Jeremy was never a part of that. I lean into him. Jeremy as a boyfriend was never part of the plan. And now I’m lying to myself in my own head. Ugh. Why do I always want more? I should be content.
He keeps hold of me. I feel like I might faint if he lets go. I nuzzle against his chest while he presses his palm against the door. The light turns green and the handle swings down. “Monet,” he mumbles softly. I look up into his face and his lips press into mine. Life floods back into my body from the point where our bodies touch. His kiss is hot and delicate.
He pushes the door open with his foot and we back into the apartment. He kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. “You’re so cold. Let me find you dry clothes to change into.”
“No.” I drag my fingers through his hair, and he works his way back up my throat.
“You taste nice.”
I dissolve into the kiss. I don’t want to remember anything else from this night—just the warmth of Jeremy’s arms and the growing sensation of his lips. It doesn’t matter if the world doesn’t think I’m good enough. All that matters is that he wants me.
I want to say every slushy romantic thought that flits through my mind, but instead I channel the desire into our kiss. “I’ll get those clothes,” Jeremy says. Though when he goes to pull away he’s back in an instant, like I’m magnetic. I wish I didn’t have the Fluxem sore. I glance at the bed, but there’s no way I want him to see me naked. Not yet.
Jeremy’s apartment is one big room. A thousand square feet, at least. There’s a pile of dirty laundry next to the bed, which makes me smile. I take a step forward.
“Hold on. I’ll find you something.” He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath. Drawers line the underside of his bed. I sit on the edge, sinking into the foam while he digs through the clothes. “Do you think these will fit?” He holds the sweatpants up in the air. I recline slightly on the bed. My wet purple dress accentuates everything. He presses his lips tight.
“I think with the drawstring they’ll be okay,” he says when I don’t answer. He goes back to the drawer and I pull my hair forward, so that the dark strands frame my face. My chest pounds with anticipation. Then he stands up and hands me a concert sweatshirt.
I sigh. He’s being a respectful gentleman. “I’ll go change.” The bathroom is off to the side of the bedroom. His towels are forest green. I take one off the rack and squeeze the water out of my hair before peeling the dress off and hanging it on the bar. I slide my legs into the sweats and take a quick peek behind the shower curtain. His shampoo is Jaher. I repeat the name in my head. Maybe when all this is over I can buy his shampoo at home and remember how he smelled. I press my hands to my face. I don’t want this to be our last date.
I finish getting dressed. Once I roll the pants at the top they only drag on the floor a few inches. The sweatshirt is warm and cuddly, but definitely not sexy.
I step out of the bathroom. He’s sitting on the bed, but jumps to his feet when I come out. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks.
“Okay.” Do not overthink it. Cheer the hell up. We walk away from the bed to the other side of the room, where the TV is. Two sides of his apartment are glass and I press close, staring down. Cars on the street below appear no bigger than my thumb. Rain slams into the glass wall in sheets. I sit on the couch while Jeremy clicks through his digital library.
“When is the hurricane hitting?” I ask.
Jeremy straightens up and looks at the rain on the other side of the wall. “This is the leading edge of the storm. It’ll probably get worse before it gets better.”
“I guess I should stay here tonight.”
He gulps. “Probably safest. What types of movies do you like? I have everything.”
“Tonight, I’ll take anything that is as far away from reality TV as possible.”
“Skunk Fu Takes Tokyo?”
I laugh. “Perfect.”
There’s a thudding on the door. “Be right back. It’s probably just Derek with the car keys.”
I turn on the couch so that I can watch him stride across the room. Perfect posture, hurried steps.
Derek drips water on the floor and holds up a paper. “This was in the mailbox. Mandatory evacuation notice.”
“No shit.” Jeremy takes the paper. “Is the building clearing out?”
“I stopped and asked the attendant, but he said only a few old ladies from the lower floors left.”
“What do you think, Monet, should we get out of here?”
“It’s up to you guys. I’m not afraid of the storm.” Plus, I don’t want to cut the date short.
Derek shrugs. “It’s your call, man. But for your safety, we should probably get out of here.”
Jeremy looks at me. “We’ll stay.”
Derek takes in our silent eye contact. “Okay, then. I’ll be next door if you need me. Oh, wait. Is that the Skunk Fu Tokyo movie?”
“You are not watching a movie with me and my date.” Jeremy shoves him out the door.
“Goodbye, Monet,” Derek yells through the closing door.
Jeremy shakes his head and turns back to me. “Can I get you anything to eat?” he asks. “I have a cake. It’s pretty good. I got it at this bakeshop down the street yesterday.”
“Sure,” I say since he obviously wants cake.
“Cool.” He comes back with two matching pewter plates and sinks down into the couch next to me. “This is delicious,” he says around a mouthful of yellow cake with coconut frosting. He rests one leg on the coffee table. I’ve never seen him in such a casual pose. I just want to climb on top of him.
“Pewter, huh? That’s one of the few the government hasn’t tried to reclaim.”
“I know, right? They’re trying to squeeze money out of every corner of the world. Poor Brie. I swear the only reason they ever arrest anyone is tax evasion, and it’s like a ransom demand. This other musician I know got busted for not reporting second party T-shirt sales.”
I nod. He’s so in-tune with the world and everything that’s important to me. If only our lives didn’t keep us separate. I take my plate and eat my slice as the movie plays. He turns the volume down low so that we can talk. The whole set-up seems so normal. Not how I imagined rockstars to be at home, but then, he’s always been that way with me.
He scrapes up the last bite. “Tell me about what happened to Praline.”
I describe what happened and he snuggles me against him as I talk. The movie finishes and I’m so warm and comfortable I just want to sleep. He kisses the top of my head and I close my eyes.
The pounding rain and wind wake me.
We’re still in the same position. Jeremy’s head rests on the back of the sofa. There’s a tiny piece of coconut on his cheek. I wiggle out from under his arm to kiss the spot. He smiles and grumbles, stretching out his back. “I think we fell asleep,” I say.
He rubs his eyes and pulls me closer so that I’m straddling his lap. “Did I tell you that you’re adorable in my clothes?”
I kiss his jaw. “You taste like coconut,” I say.
He massages my back with both hands.
“Uh, Jeremy, don’t touch my back too much. That’s where I have marks.”
“Oh, shit!” He leans back fast. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay.” Way to ruin the moment. I run my tongue along his lips.
“You taste good, too,” he says. He relaxes against me. “But Monet, about Fluxem—”
I press my mouth against his. Fluxem is the last thing I want to think about right now. I have the money from my design and I’m almost as good as cured. Soon. I just have to forget about the marks enough to enjoy this. He deepens the kiss. I feel so safe and relaxe
d in his arms. And completely turned on. My knees tremble. I want you.
I dip my hand under his T-shirt and over his abs, exploring each muscle. He groans against my chest and slips his hand under my sweatshirt. His hands trail up and down my belly. I’m tingling and shivering all over.
I kiss his neck and the stubble on his chin rubs my face. He drags me tight against his chest. The combination of his soft sweatshirt moving against my skin and his gentle fingertips makes me squirm.
“Monet,” he whispers. I lean back enough so that his hands can glide over my front. “I love the way you kiss,” he says.
I smile against his lips and draw back. His eyes open, staring into mine. “I think you’re an amazing kisser, too.” I run my fingers through his hair, flipping the wave to the other side.
The wind whistles against the glass and the pounding rain sounds like my heart in my ears. He strips off his shirt. Being with him in his apartment, just us and no cameras, is the most perfect date ever.
The whistling grows louder. I wish I could turn the volume of the world down so that I could hear his contented sighs better.
I kiss his chest and run my tongue lightly over his skin. He smells like the shampoo from the bathroom. I can’t believe I get to touch him. That it’s just me here in his apartment.
The noise is so loud I pause and look up. He doesn’t seem to hear anything. “Jeremy, is that—”
Boom!
A twenty-foot chunk of iron slams through the glass and spears the couch right next to me. Fluff from the cushions flies up in a swirl. Chunks of rust cover my borrowed sweats. I stare out the gaping hole in the window in front of us. Rain pours in sheets onto his carpeted floor.
I grip the edge of the couch and hoist myself to my feet. The wind tries to blow me back down. “What the hell is that thing?” I yell over the pounding. A siren blares on the street below.
The big iron rod is still attached to something outside of the window. Criss-crossing supports cover the sides. “A crane?” I yell to Jeremy.
