by Mj Fields
“I deserved it,” he says, searching my face.
I’m not sure if he’s waiting for a smile, for tears, or for me to tell him he didn’t deserve it. Therefore, I give him a true version of the latter.
“No one deserves to be hit.”
His eyes scrunch together.
“What?” I ask, knowing he wants to say something.
He shakes his head. “Nothing, Tales. Thanks for the apology. Please accept mine.”
With that, he looks at me for a few more excruciatingly silent moments and then walks to the door.
“Phone’s charged. Mads can show you how to use it if you don’t know how.” And then he walks out the door.
I am left with an iPhone Six in my hands, the big one, too. It’s huge, probably too big, definitely too expensive, and he won’t take it back.
When Madison and I walk out, we can hear the guys on the patio. I go to the sink to grab a glass of water and see River in the pool, floating around with sticks in his hand. Finn is sitting on the edge of the chaise, strumming a bass guitar. Billy is seemingly playing the invisible keyboard on his lap, and Memphis is sitting opposite Finn, strumming an acoustic. I can hear him singing. His voice isn’t the booming onstage rocker voice; it’s softer.
“Might as well shit-can the idea of going out.” Madison looks over my shoulder.
“Why?”
“He’s been in a funk for a while now, and it looks to me like he’s out of it.” She smiles adoringly in his direction.
“A funk?”
“Finn’s written almost all of the lyrics.”
“Since when?”
“Since we went away that spring break, right before going on tour with Burning Souls. He doesn’t say anything to me, of course, but he told our father he thinks the road took something from him, and he’s been looking for it ever since.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Mostly between chicks’ legs, but …” She shrugs, as if to say whatever.
I grab a glass of water and drink it down.
“You wanna go listen?”
“Should we interrupt?” I ask, thinking it’s a bad idea.
“Give him a few minutes.” She starts opening drawers until she finds what she’s looking for and then pulls out a pile of take-out menus. “Let’s order dinner.”
We order Mexican—it’s always been Madison’s favorite—quietly as we listen to Steel Total Destruction play in the background.
I have never seen them live. Even though I was invited plenty of times, I just couldn’t. I didn’t have the time or money. Now I have the time. I have lots and lots of time.
I know I will have to tell Madison soon. I have avoided it so far, just wanting to enjoy my time with her. So far, it’s been a total disaster.
Madison is smiling. “Do you hear him, Tales?” I nod. “He’s amazing.”
“Not sure if it should be called “Bang, Bang” or “Loners Syndrome”,” we hear Memphis say as he strums his guitar. “The chorus, you all join in at bang, bang. One, two, three. Two, two, three,” he says then starts doing what Memphis does best.
Her dress is devil red and skin tight.
She’s made up her mind; she has plans for the night.
Smoke filled room, the music plays.
Her eyes cut through the sweet smelling haze.
I sit. I wait. I drink a few.
I watch her dance, wait for her cue.
No lines, no promise, no future plan,
Just desire and a need of a woman for a man.
Room key in hand, I follow her.
One touch of hands, and she purrs.
That smell, that taste, that wild plum.
Look in her eyes.
Come on, give me some.
Bang, bang. My heart beats like a drum.
Bang, bang. No choice but to succumb.
Bang, bang. Not sent from above.
Bang, bang. Fits like a glove
Bang, bang. I’m driving it home.
Bang, bang. A loner’s syndrome
Bang, bang. I’m a loaded gun.
Bang, bang. Two seconds to run.
Bang, bang. No room for love.
Bang, bang. Not sent from above.
“Yeah, he sure is.” I force a smile then excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
Once the door is shut behind me, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around myself, feeling sick to my stomach. The marks he wore, the words he sung, it all makes me sick. What made me even more ill is the fact that I know deep down I still want him. I would be lying to myself if I said otherwise.
I walk out as Madison is juggling bags in her arms.
“Let me help.” I go over and grab two as she kicks the door shut behind her.
“Nice save. You know you are always there when I need you.”
We set up the food on the table as they change chords and timing then sing the song again. It will no doubt be a hit, but I think that will be one song by STD that I will not be buying.
“What did you think?” I hear Memphis ask as he sets his guitar down and looks in our direction. His eyes train on me, and then he looks to Madison.
“Effing love it, of course,” she says, beaming.
“Thanks,” he says and doesn’t look at me. “Wrote two others, too.”
“And you’re holding out?” Madison pushes him in jest.
“One, I’ll let you hear after dinner. The other—well, I’m still working on it.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and see he is looking at me out of the corner of his eye with his head down.
“What did you think?” he asks.
I give him a forced smile and nod. I say nothing, because if I do, I will say the wrong thing.
After dinner, I help clean up. Mads hands me a glass of wine, and I drink it down. I see the guys all heading back outside, but I don’t think I can take another “tell all” by Memphis Black right now.
I need a break from the intensity that comes with him. The feelings he evokes are like a storm, a disease, an STD, I think, shaking my head and trying to rid the picture I have in it.
“Spill it,” Mads says as she pours me another drink.
“No, it’s nothing.” I laugh uncomfortably, and without thinking, I drink down the glass of wine she just poured.
It’s bitter and doesn’t really feel all that great on my belly, but it makes me kind of numb. I like it.
“Shit.” Madison laughs. “Thirsty much?”
“Yeah. Another please.”
She pours the glass of dry white.
Note to self: if I ever decide to become a lush, dry white is not something I will ever purchase.
Purchase. I laugh at the thought. An indulgence. I can’t afford just getting by; how the hell would I even consider something I might indulge upon?
I look up to find Madison laughing.
“Damn, girl.” She fills the glass again, and I suddenly feel hot. I also feel like I just don’t care anymore. I like that feeling.
“Come on, I have the bottle,” she teases as she holds it in front of me like I’m a dog being lured by a treat. “Let’s go listen to the boys.”
Everyone is sitting around the outdoor fireplace. River is tapping his sticks on the tiled table, Memphis and Finn have their guitars, and Billy is doing something with his laptop.
I sit next to Billy, who smiles, and I lean in to see what he’s doing, feeling the weight of someone’s very blue eyes, but I ignore it.
Madison is on the other side of Billy, doing the same.
Three glasses of wine later, I’m hot and tired. They have played two songs, both ones Finn has been working on, and I am glad not to hear “Bang, Bang” again.
They end the song, and I expect them to discuss it like they did the last, but Memphis speaks.
“You do remember you’re still underage, right, Madison?”
“Are you serious right now?” she snorts.
“Just don’t want you getting all fucked up and throwing up all over
the place.”
I look up and see him blatantly staring at me.
“I think he just doesn’t want to see the two of you going inside with Billy boy and banging the fuck out of him,” River begins, and Memphis draws back his fist.
“I will knock your goddamned teeth—”
“Oh, please.” Finn rolls his eyes. “If it wasn’t your sister or the girl who—”
“Watch it, man,” he warns.
“—grew up next door, you’d be the first inside with the both of them.”
“Respect, man. Show some.” Memphis stands up, sets his guitar down, and then storms into the house.
I look around to see everyone is laughing. It’s funny if you know it isn’t you who caused his grim mood.
I finish my drink and stand. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
“I’m not ready yet,” Madison says as she fills her glass and takes a sip. “But I’ll come with if you want me to.”
“To do what? Watch me sleep?” I smile. “Stay, have fun.”
“You feeling okay?” Billy asks as I take a step and nearly trip. “Apparently not. I’ll walk you in.”
“Not necessary,” I say, but he is immediately next to me, holding my elbow.
“It’s not a problem. I need to use the bathroom, anyway.”
We walk in, and I quickly scan the area. No Memphis.
“Thanks, Billy, but I’m okay.”
“Have a glass of water and a Motrin,” he says as he grabs the bottle off the counter, then a glass from the cupboard. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
He walks out of the room as I swallow down the Motrin with the water. I clean the glass and then head to bed.
When I round the corner, Memphis is standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are angry as he stares directly at me.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
“Not my intention,” he says, looking up at the ceiling. “Look, Tales, I don’t know if I’m losing my fucking mind or if this shit I feel when I’m around you is—”
“Memphis, I am clearly making this vacation miserable for you. I—”
“I have been a fucking wreck for a year. Over a year. I finally figured out why.”
I shake my head and swallow hard, waiting for him to tell me how I jinxed him, how I messed up his music mojo.
“I’m sorry,” is all that comes out.
“Don’t be sorry. Help me fix it.”
“By letting you do all those things you say you want to do, Memphis? The things that I’m not sure if you’re joking about or if it’s just you and your … testosterone levels amped up like a damn electric guitar?”
He sucks in his lips and tries not to laugh.
“It’s not funny, Memphis.”
He is suddenly serious. “I wanna do all sorts of shit to you.”
“Well, you wrote two songs, or was it three? So, I think you are all straight now, you and your”—I point to his upper body—“torn up torso.”
“Wasn’t the ass I had, Tales. It was the ass I’ve wanted since that night.”
“You’re—”
“Honest? Would you like me not to be? I could lie; would that be better?” His voice raises, and I am suddenly fearful that Madison will hear us.
“Shh,” I tell him, and his eyes narrow.
“No, sweet cheeks. You and I are gonna work this out. I couldn’t give a fuck less who hears me.”
“She doesn’t know about that night. It wasn’t even a big deal, Memphis.”
“That’s not what you said while your ass was pressed up against me in my bed the other night.”
“I was drunk.”
“Then get drunk again. Press in harder this time.”
“You are something else.”
My heart is racing. His lips never looked so good, and I am sure the air conditioner is on way too low because my nipples are straining against my padded, push-up bra.
“I am something you want, and you are something I want.”
“Well, it’ll never happen.” I attempt to step around him, but my wobbly knees betray me, and I stumble.
He grabs me and pushes me against the wall. “Tell me what your doubts are.”
“Why?”
“So I can blow them out of the water.” His hands are on my waist, and his face is inches from mine as his chiseled chest rises and falls quickly underneath his shirt. “Boyfriend?” I shake my head. “So he humped you and dumped you? Fucking idiot. Does he know he’s an idiot?”
I don’t respond. I don’t want him to know he’s right. Then he’ll figure out that I am not worth even one night.
“Madison,” I say.
“She doesn’t find out until we both figure out if this is physical or more.”
Dear God, he said or more.
I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing, but it’s not happening. I feel his thumb on my chin as he pushes my head to the side. He inhales a slow, deep breath, running his nose from my collarbone up to the spot right behind my ear, and I moan. I flippin’ moan, and he does, too, at the same time.
“You’re promiscuous.”
“Ask me not to be.” He moves my head back and pushes my chin up with his thumb. His tongue lightly slides down my throat and stops at the base. Again, I moan, and again, he does, too.
“Your tour.”
“Your school.”
“I’m not ready for a relationship,” I pant out as his lips run across my jawline.
“Give me this week.”
“To be your groupie?” I shake my head.
“To be mine.” He sucks on my earlobe. “All mine.”
“Madison,” I remind him.
“After hours.”
“Fine,” I concede.
“You are not going to regret it.” He steps back and cups my jaw.
“I already do.”
“Why?”
“I’m not a whore.”
“I promise, Tales, whatever the swimsuit or underoos cover is off limits.”
I can’t help smiling as I open my eyes. He looks happy, and I feel giddy.
He pushes his forehead against mine and runs his nose back and forth across mine. “You tell me if it gets to be too much.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“I won’t hurt you. I’ve never made a girl cry yet.” He smirks that sinful grin. “Okay, maybe a few, but they survived.”
“Why?”
“Contrary to what you believe, I think it was you who gave me my inspiration back.”
“Your floozies did.”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“I won’t sleep with someone who sleeps with everyone under the spotlight.”
“I’m really not like that, Tales.” I can’t help huffing. “No, you started this. I’ve been like that little, blonde girl, the one with the bears, eating all that porridge, sleeping in all those beds until I found the one I was looking for.”
I look away from his mesmerizing eyes. “Goldilocks.”
“Low and behold, she was right under my nose. I can’t wait to kiss those lips and see if they’re the ones I have been trying to find. You know, like the glass shoe that the prince makes everyone try on ’cause the girl he—”
I spare him the rambling, albeit adorable. “Cinderella.”
“Yeah, Cinderella.”
His lips are centimeters from mine, and I am ready for him to kiss me. I want to know if it’s true. At the very least, I want him to kiss me just once without throwing up on my shoes.
He moves closer, and I close my eyes and lift my chin, giving myself to him. He kisses … my cheek.
Stunned, I open my eyes.
“Sober. Come to me sober so I know I’m not pushing you into something.”
“But you said—”
“Tales, I wanna kiss you so fucking badly right now.” He leans against me with his whole body. “My tongue isn’t the only thing that wants in.” He nudges me with
his erection, and I gasp. “But sober, sweet cheeks. I won’t do you like that.”
Then he walks away, leaving me buzzed, turned on, and wanting more than ever to give everything I have to Memphis Black.
I don’t go back outside, although it’s not like I can when I am as hard as nails and feeling guilty as fuck. Tallia Annabel Priest, the sweetest girl on the entire planet, and my dick can’t keep my mind occupied enough to leave her alone.
I flop down in bed and stare at the ceiling, willing this hard-on away. I know what will do the trick—think about her father and the day he caught me staring at his little girl when I was in church.
“Do you know what happens to sinners, young man?” he asked me.
“Not really, sir,” I answered honestly.
“They burn in hell.” He scowled at me, and what did I do? I fucking chuckled. Hell, he was my minister. The one who preached God’s love was now pegging me at ten years old as a sinner. He didn’t think that shit was funny, but here’s the shit kicker: I wasn’t thinking of banging his daughter until he went on with, “If you have sexual desires for her, you best get down on your knees and pray, young man.”
Sexual fucking desires at ten? Hell, I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell that thing was there for and hating it because the shit hurt when it got all hard. I figured out really quickly after that man’s warning what a sexual desire was, and from that moment on, I spent a lot of time in the damn shower. I mean, why the fuck would he even say that shit?
I spent the next eight years tormenting her because I wasn’t hot for her. She was the opposite of hot—well, maybe not the opposite, but she was … angelic? Sweet, kind, innocent—all the things you want to protect from the little asshole tormentors who picked on her, and she just smiled in their faces.
Well, that day I flipped a switch, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be a sinner, much less want everyone to think I had sexual desires for Tallia Annabelle Priest, the awkward preacher’s kid, so then I became a pain in hers and Madison’s asses.
Forgive me, papa Priest. Now I have some hellacious sexual desires, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Hell, I can’t do shit about it now.
I look down, erection gone. Minister Priest is the opposite of Viagra, and I will use that shit to my advantage.
