But third, and most important, he’s my best friend. He’s hurting, he’s confused, and he apparently doesn’t see how easily he could fuck it all up.
He still hasn’t answered. I think he needs a little nudge…
JT wondered what to say, how to explain the unusual communication that he and Kori shared. Damn, is it so obvious that Rafe can see it? He hates people-watching; he’d much rather watch whatever was on the television hanging over the bar. I can’t help myself; I collect people. I listen and I watch and I stockpile all the bits to use later when I’m working on a song.
And I’m avoiding the question, even in my own head.
If I say yes, he’ll think I’ve gone mad, that she’s strange, or that we’re both a little of each. And if I say no, he’ll call me a liar and push harder to know just what there is between us.
If it were anyone else, I could probably get away with attacking the question as outrageous. But I’ve known Rafe for more than half my life. Not only would he see through it, he wouldn’t stand for it either, and probably wouldn’t even open the debate. He’d just ask me again. The wanker.
I wonder who else notices.
Shit.
Rafe stood and began patting his pockets. He made an exaggerated show of looking under every item and scrap of paper that littered the tabletop. JT looked up from his lap and stared at him hard.
“Eh, Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Looking,” Rafe said simply.
“What in the hell for? Your brain?” JT snickered softly, but the scowl stayed firmly planted on his face.
Rafe picked up the brass lamp from the endtable and glanced at the felt-covered bottom before setting it gently back down. “Nah. But if I see yours, I’ll make damn sure it gets back inside your head.” He tilted a couch cushion and looked underneath it, then tucked it neatly back down before moving on to the next one. “’Cause you’ve most certainly lost it,” he muttered.
“I heard that,” JT growled.
“Nice to know all that time on the stage hasn’t made you deaf.” Rafe peeked behind a large oil painting that hung on the wall above the wet bar, then slowly eased it back again, leaving it hanging slightly askew.
“What in the bleedin’ hell are you looking for?”
Rafe opened the tiny refrigerator and peered inside, then closed it again, shaking his head. “A cattle prod.”
JT added a raised brow to his scowl.
“See, the way I see it, you’re not going to answer me no matter how many times I ask you about how the two of you are connected. Unless I can prod you into it. And a cattle prod might be just the thing. I wonder if I can get one from the concierge…” Rafe moved toward the telephone with an outstretched hand.
“Aw, shut up, ya wanker. You caught me off guard is all. I haven’t really analyzed what it is we do, or how. I just know she can hear what I’m thinking sometimes, and I can feel when she’s around, and I feel the emptiness when she’s not.” Fuck! What am I saying? Tricky bastard…
“And I’m guessing that this is one of those times when her presence is… absent?”
JT studied the carpet and nodded his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said softly, “and I hate it. And I hate that I hate it.”
Rafe moved to stand at the back of the couch and leaned heavily against the fabric-covered wood, his hands gripping the top edge tightly. He let out a silent sigh and waited patiently for JT to continue.
Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound… “I don’t know how or why this has happened, and it’s all been so fast. It’s got me thinking about the upcoming holidays and how we’ll be on opposite sides of the ocean. I don’t know how I’ll manage. I don’t even want to think about when the tour is over. It’s hard enough just having her so close and not being able to touch her anymore. What am I going to do when even feeling her in my heart is impossible because we’re so far apart?”
“Touch her any more, JT?” Rafe probed gently. “I thought you only kissed her that one time, months ago.”
JT grimaced. Shit. I really stuck my foot in it. “Uh, yeah, well…” He looked up at Rafe, all traces of anger gone. “I didn’t want you to think less of her, since she’s married. Or to think she’s weird because of what she can see about people. I didn’t want you to treat her any differently.”
JT rose from the chair to pace to the wet bar and back. He raked his fingers through his hair and looked to Rafe once again. “She’s not a slut, Rafe. What we experienced with one another was simply phenomenal. It went so far beyond the physical when we were together. She just blew me away.”
Rafe couldn’t stop his grin.
JT threw him a sharp look. “Quit it. I didn’t mean it that way. Although she was amazing at that, too.” A smile crept over his face; he blinked hard to shake it off . “I’m trying to be serious here. Somehow she opened herself to me and what I was feeling, and responded to it. Just where and how to touch me, what I needed… ah, hell, I can’t really explain it. Words aren’t nearly enough. But making love to her was spiritual, Rafe. I’ve never connected with someone like that, not ever, in my entire life. Like she was a piece of myself that I didn’t even know I was missing until I found it.”
“That was before her family arrived, I assume?” Rafe turned to brace a hip to the wooden frame of the couch and faced him fully.
“You got that right. Since then, all I’ve had is a couple of frustrating kisses in dusty rooms backstage. And I’ve been having the most amazing, realistic erotic dreams. Damn, it’s been so fucking hard.”
Rafe snorted softly. JT didn’t notice.
“She even caught me once.”
“You mean…” Rafe grinned, gesturing with his hand in front of his zipper.
“Quit being such a twit. I pulled her into it somehow. She was there, right there with me, but she was asleep. I wasn’t, but I was lying in bed thinking about her. About how soft her skin is, how she would shiver when I touched her, how she would arch up and offer herself to me, so hungry for more…damn.” He closed his eyes, momentarily lost. He sighed raggedly and slowly reopened them. “Apparently I woke her up that way, and was she ever ‘round the bend when it was all over. She stormed in and said I was sending her ‘intergalactic mental porn’ and I’d better not do it again. I thought she was gonna deck me.”
“So, have you, since then?”
“Just a few more times one week,” JT stated, cutting the real number by more than half. “She was even angrier than the first time by that Friday, and I think if she hadn’t been so tired, she would’ve kicked my ass when she told me in no uncertain terms to quit it. But since that first week, no. I’ve left her alone and haven’t tried to reach her that way. No matter how frustrated I’ve gotten.”
God, I feel better now that I’ve confided in him. Somewhat. “That’s why it hurts so much that she’s cut me off. I sort of expected the empty feeling with her so far away, but I really thought she’d return my telephone calls.”
Rafe thought for a moment. “She’s been looking exhausted. Maybe she’s spending a lot of time catching up on her sleep?” he offered hopefully.
JT exhaled loudly. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s it. I just can’t stand being so out of touch. I’ve done what she asked and still she’s hardly spoken to me for the last two weeks, and she snaps at me when she does. Through it all, though, I could feel her nearness, and even though she’s been out of sorts, what I’ve felt hasn’t been anger. And I’ve sensed her anger with me before, so I know that I’d feel it. It’s been her loneliness and despair running an undercurrent, but in the forefront is… she loves me, Rafe. She’s told me so, and I can feel it from her, so I know it’s true.” And I never thought I would feel empty without a woman, but bloody hell! She took so much of me away when she left. I’m just a shell waiting for her to fill me again. Either there’s something very wrong about this relationship, or something perfectly right and this is how it should be when you find the twin to your soul.
****
“Would you mind if I followed in a few minutes?” Kori asked as they walked toward the bank of elevators after leaving the indoor pool. “I noticed a sign on the sunroom near the pool stating it was a designated smoking area, and I’d rather not smoke in our room so you don’t get nauseous again, honey.” He’d nearly lost his scant breakfast when the smoke blew in from the balcony off their suite.
Mark knew she needed her time alone, however brief, to bolster her psychic defenses. Kori also valued that time to reflect and think, and she’d had precious little of it since boarding the tourbus.
“Of course not, sweetheart. Take as long as you need. Oh, and here,” he said, tugging the clip from the waistband of his sweatpants, “take the cell phone, just in case.”
She was puzzled, but took the little red phone in the leather case anyway. “In case of what?”
He surprised her with a tender lingering kiss, the kind that used to melt her with the promise of what was to come. Now all it could be was only what it was, a gentle kiss. He rarely kissed her since the illness had taken a firm foothold, finding it almost unbearable to brush her soft lips, all the while knowing it would be a cruel tease that held nothing but a wishful lie.
He pulled back with a sigh and favored her with an even rarer smile that reached all the way up to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Just in case I miss you too much. Now go have your fix and we’ll see you upstairs.”
She watched them board the elevator, wondering about his bittersweet mood.
She clipped the cell phone case to the damp waistband of her sweatpants, wishing she’d taken off her swimsuit before pulling on her pants and shirt. They weren’t quite so cozy when the soggy suit underneath was starting to chafe.
She pulled the tiny telephone from its holster and looked at it, realizing that she’d turned it off on the trip up (so it wouldn’t chirp and awaken Mark while he dozed in the car) and she’d never thought to turn it back on again. Duh, Kori.
She pressed her thumb to the power button and took a few slow steps toward the sunroom and her blissful nicotine break, her eyes never leaving the screen as the phone woke up. The phone beeped twice and the message icon appeared.
She dialed to retrieve the voicemail and was dismayed to hear the canned female voice tell her there were seventeen. Oh, no. Was something wrong with one of the band? Why hadn’t they called the hotel? She scowled and hung up, then turned on her heel to head for the front desk for messages.
Kori lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, watching the bluegray smoke curling from the end. Anything to avoid looking at the stack of pink message slips sitting on the bench beside her and the accusing screen of the tiny red phone that still showed unheard voicemail. Shit, hell and holy hand grenades. I can’t believe I not only forgot to turn the cell back on, but I also forgot to unblock the phone in our room from incoming calls. All of the hotel slips clearly state he says it’s nothing urgent, but still… there are at least a dozen of them. Add to that the seventeen voicemails, and it’s only been a day and a half. Jesus, JT, what’s going on in Cincinnati?
She debated whether to call right away, to listen to the recordings first and then call, or to just ignore the whole thing. After all, she’d told the desk clerk to allow incoming calls. If there was a real problem, he’d call again. If she wasn’t upstairs yet, Mark would call her on the cell if it was urgent. She closed her eyes and took another deep pull on the filter, then let the smoke drift from her slightly parted lips. If nothing happens by the time I’m done with this smoke, I’ll call him. For now, I’m just going to load up on nicotine in peace.
****
“You know, JT,” Rafe began, “if you keep pushing, you’re just as likely to shove her further away.” He shook his head slightly. “Kori’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s more stubborn than you are.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
Rafe smiled at the argument that was as old as their friendship, and gave his reply which was just as old as the argument. “Okay, obstinate, then. And you’re avoiding the point.”
JT arched a brow. “I’m driven, I’m passionate, and I’m nearly always right. I am not, however, obstinate. Nor am I stubborn. How many times do we have to have this argument—”
JT was cut off by the ringing of the phone. For a moment, he stared at it as if he didn’t know what to do when the cursed thing actually made a noise.
It rang a second time.
Rafe looked from the phone to JT and back again. “Well?” he asked. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
JT lunged for the nighttable and snatched up the handset.
Rafe ducked his head and bit his cheeks to keep from laughing out loud; the age-old debate made him smile, but the goofy grin that washed over JT’s face when he heard the voice at the other end of the line had him in stitches. He didn’t care if JT knew he was laughing at him, but he wanted to hear at least one side of the conversation.
“That’s okay, love. I just wanted to be sure you arrived safely, what with holiday traffic and all.” Lines of worry disappeared from around his eyes.
“No, no, it was nothing urgent. Nothing at all, really.” He turned his back to Rafe before dropping his voice to say quietly, “I worry about you. And I miss you.”
JT turned back toward Rafe and twiddled with the phone cord as he listened. Rafe could see the worry lines were still gone, but so was the grin. Concern shone from JT’s eyes as he glanced over at his friend and his face drooped with the sadness reflected in his voice. “That must have been so hard for you, love. For all of you. How did he take it?”
Rafe wondered if Zach now knew of his father’s ill health, and if that was why they’d left and stayed out of touch.
“Uh-huh.” He wound the cord around his finger and then back off again.
“That soon? No, stay if you need to. We don’t leave here until the following day.” JT cradled the phone under his chin and fished a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket. As usual, he began to look in earnest for a light. Rafe took out his own and gave it to JT, but left his hand outstretched to make sure he got it back.
“Oh, the weather… okay. Yeah, I don’t like the thought of you driving in a major snowstorm, either. But leave the phone on this time, will you, love? I won’t call and distract your driving, I promise. But in case you run into trouble, I’d feel better if you can call straightaway.”
The worry lines around JT’s eyes were returning. “We’ll look for you late afternoon, then. Drive carefully.” He turned his back to the bassist again and said in a voice not so low that Rafe couldn’t hear, “I love you, sweetheart.”
JT turned back around, the satisfied smile warring with the worry for control of his face. “Bye, love.”
JT had to spin once to unwind himself from the phone cord before he could replace the handset on the cradle.
“Feel better now?” Rafe asked.
JT’s sigh was a mixture of relief and new fear. “Yeah. She’d turned off the phone when she was driving, then forgot and left it off. And the messages-only for the hotel phone was supposed to be lifted this morning after they woke up, but they forgot that, too.”
“Not surprising, since I gathered from this end of the conversation that this weekend was their time to break the news to their son.”
“She said Zach knows now, and he’s been very quiet. She’s not sure exactly how he feels, besides shocked. They’re coming back tomorrow to stay ahead of a snowstorm coming in off the lake. I guess we’ll see for ourselves how shaken he is.”
Rafe looked down at his shoes, then back up to JT. “Yeah. I feel for him, the poor kid.”
****
Kori enjoyed a second night of unbroken sleep and awoke feeling light and hopeful despite the foreboding morning sky. The rest was worth whatever she might have to drive through to rejoin the tour.
“Okay, let’s head out,” Mark said, slinging his blue nylon bag over his shoulder. “I want to stay ahead of the weather.”
Kori grabbed the other suitcase and swept a final look around the room. I keep feeling that we’re forgetting something. But then, I always think that when we’re leaving. She shook it off and followed her family out into the hall, then slowly closed the door with a last backward glance into the room.
The elevator dinged softly as it arrived.
“I get to push the button,” Zach said as they boarded.
As the elevator doors snugged shut, her little red cell phone cheerily chirped the opening strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
She didn’t answer it.
Although it was set to play at full volume, she never heard the ring through the dirty clothes twisted and wadded around it at the bottom of Mark’s suitcase.
****
“Shit,” JT mumbled tersely, waiting for the tinny voice to finish reciting her cell number. I know the phone’s on. It rang four times before the voicemail kicked in. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop and looked uselessly around the room for a lighter.
“Kori, it’s me,” he said almost before the beep had finished. “There’s a nasty snowstorm brewing here, and you’re going to be heading right into it.” He looked out the foggy window glass. “Matter of fact, I see the snowflakes starting to fall right now. I hope you’ve already left and just couldn’t pick up fast enough. Somebody call me when you hear this message.”
He replaced the handset and gave the telephone a dirty look.
“Just drive carefully, love. It’s gonna get ugly out there.”
He went to Rafe’s room to borrow his lighter. Or better yet, steal his book of matches. I’ve already run through mine. I smoke too damn much when I’m nervous. Bloody fucking hell.
****
Kori nervously glanced at the rearview mirror again. She’d been driving due south for almost an hour and the sky ahead now looked as ominous as the clouds she was trying desperately to outrun. She sighed loudly and wished she’d had one more cigarette before they got in the car. Not that it really would have made any difference. That was nearly an hour ago. I’ve got to work on not smoking so much when I’m worried.
Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll) Page 39
