“Man, I would’ve tapped that ass two times, and then when I was done that second time, I would’ve tapped it again since all good things come in threes,” the one named Chet said loudly.
The guys around him laughed, including Finn.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t fuck her, Finn. You should’ve sent her my way if you weren’t feeling it.”
“Chill with the language, man. My girl’s in the room,” Zeke said as he pulled Patience closer to his side.
Finn looked over at me and I turned my head quickly. Apparently, Finn was still living his wild playboy life. I remembered the way he looked sitting on that couch with his eyes closed as Jenny worked her body on top of him. The thought of them together still made me sick four years later. Actually, hearing them talk about Finn getting laid while on tour made me sick, too.
I ignored them and went straight to the back bedrooms to get to work. I made the bed and cleaned up trash in Finn’s room first so I didn’t get stuck in his room with him again. I was working on his bathroom when I felt someone behind me.
I wasn’t in the mood for him. I didn’t think I could take any more rude remarks. I’d woken up that morning with my period and I had a severe case of PMS. I was angry and emotional and I honestly didn’t think I could sit there and take his crap without responding this time.
When I turned around, he was standing behind me, watching me work. I turned my head and continued. If I could get it done as soon as possible, then I could leave. Water from cleaning the countertop had spilled onto the floor, so I grabbed one of towels from the little bucket I took to work with me and started to clean it up. I was positive I had it all, but when I started to clean the shower, I slipped on a slick spot and fell face first into the hot shower water.
Embarrassment set in as the hot water ran over my hair and into my eyes. I put my hands out to lift myself, but the chemicals I’d sprayed on the slick tile kept making me slip. I couldn’t get up.
A set of large hands grabbed me around the waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing. Once I was on my feet, I pushed my sopping wet hair from my face and reached for a towel to dry myself.
“Thank you,” I said to Finn.
The words felt like bees stinging the back of my throat. I would’ve much rather endured the bees than to have to say thank you to him. Still, it was the right thing to do, and even though I didn’t go to church every day the way I used to, I still knew the difference between what was right and what was wrong.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking at my face. Instead, his eyes were glued to my chest. I hadn’t noticed it, but my light-blue shirt was plastered to my body. My simple black bra was showing clearly through the thin fabric. It was the only colored bra I’d ever owned, and I only bought it because I could once my parents divorced.
I pulled at my shirt and then wrapped my arms around myself. I started to walk away, but Finn grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him. I hated my body for reacting as my nipples hardened and my breathing accelerated.
He stared down at me, blue eyes taking me in. I felt naked even though I was still fully covered, and I was starting to shiver. I couldn’t decide if that was because of Finn or because of my swim in the shower.
“No more boring white cotton?” he asked with a sexy smirk.
He was playing with me again. I reached up and pried his fingers from around my arm. I jerked my body away from him and turned and left the room. I think I hated him more in that embarrassing moment than I had over the last four years.
He laughed behind me and then I heard him saying something that made me so angry I had to go to another bathroom and cool down.
“I tainted the preacher’s daughter and now she thinks it’s okay for her to wear black. Only sexy women make black look good.”
He was right. I had no business wearing black anything. I was still a boring, white cotton girl.
Black had never looked so fucking sexy—never. An angel in the devil’s clothing, holy shit, it was a turn on. The way she felt in my arms when I pulled her from the hot shower had been a thing that my memories were made of. I guess some things never changed and Faith’s body was one of them.
I hated that my cock got hard just by looking at her bra through her shirt, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I hadn’t had sex since Faith came back into my life. Not for lack of trying, but I couldn’t seem to go through with it. It was like I’d turned into the biggest puss the world had ever seen.
I stuck my hand in my pocket and wrapped it around the cross that I carried around with me everywhere. It was the only thing I had to show for having ever known Faith, other than the hurtful letter she’d sent me right after she left. That I kept in my wallet. For a while, I’d worn the cross charm on a chain around my neck, but after having a particularly rough night, I’d ripped it off. Ever since that night, it was in my pocket, always.
At first, it had been a reminder of what I was holding on to, but these days, it was a reminder of what I was running from—love. I’d run from that shit for the rest of my life. I couldn’t go through what I’d gone through before. I could hardly believe I’d made it through it the first time. I’d lost my friends in a terrible accident, and then within days, I lost the only girl I’d ever loved.
It seemed as though the more time I spent with her, the more the memories of the past came to me. Some of those memories were so sweet my stomach hurt just thinking about it, but some had taught me all I knew about being a hard ass and not letting anyone in. I was starting to think that keeping her around and taunting her wasn’t worth the old memories and that maybe I should fire her.
I opened my wallet and pulled at the crinkled letter. I unfolded it and read it to myself. Every time I felt myself slipping, I’d read the letter and regroup.
Finn,
I can’t be with someone I’m ashamed of. As a God-fearing Christian, I think it’s best if I stayed away from you. Please do not contact me ever again. What we had was nothing more than me trying to get back at my father. It was not love, and I think the best thing is to never speak to each other again.
Have a nice life.
Faith
Even her handwriting hadn’t been sweet. Most girls had bubbly, easy-to-read handwriting. Faith’s had been jagged like the letter itself, and I used to have a hard time reading it. It was memorized after four years, but still, it hurt so good to read it to myself every now and again.
After the whole black bra situation, I made it a point to stay away from Faith. I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted her gone from the job completely, but until I figured it out, staying away was the best I could come up with.
I went out with the guys every chance I got and flirted with beautiful women in hopes that something would spark interest for me and I could take one of them home, but every time, I ended up going home alone.
When we were on the road, girls swarmed our bus and offers were laid on the table for me left and right, but I couldn’t do it. The boys were starting to take notice and ask what the hell was wrong with me.
“Dude, when’s the last time you had a piece? You’re starting to look pale and shit. It’s not natural—especially when there are hot-ass females begging to slob your knob,” Chet said as he took a hit from his blunt.
He passed it my way and instead of turning it down like I’d originally thought I would, I took it from him and hit it three times before I passed it back.
“You worry entirely too much about my cock, Chet. Is there anything you want to tell me?” I laughed.
His face got serious. “Yes. Please give it to me, big Daddy.” He joked before he jumped on top of me and pretended to hump my leg.
“Get the fuck off me!” I laughed.
Zeke stepped onto the bus and looked at us like we were crazy. Tiny was right behind him.
“What the fuck?” they said at the same time.
We played three shows in Texas after that, and it was
going to be another month before we went back home. I was glad I wouldn’t have to see Faith again for a while, and I hoped by the time I did, I’d have my shit straight.
Over that month, I stayed high the entire time. I’d sing to the crowd with my eyes closed some nights, unable to keep them open. The crowd didn’t seem to give a fuck. As long as we were there and I opened my mouth, they were happy.
One night in particular, I’d gotten so drunk before the show that I accidently fell off the stage. Thankfully, the crowd below caught me and surfed me out and back. I played it off to the rest of the band as if I’d done it on purpose.
A few times, I took a couple of girls back to my room or the bus, but I’d always leave them hanging or call Chet in to entertain. He didn’t seem to mind having all the ladies to himself. I couldn’t force myself to be interested. Zeke was in love, and Tiny was whatever he was. Who fucking knew when it came to him?
By the time I walked in the door to our place, I was exhausted. All I wanted was a hot shower in my own bathroom and my bed. The condo was spotless, as usual, as I walked through. When I got to my room, I tossed my bags on the bed and pulled off my shirt.
Grabbing some towels out of my linen closet, I turned on the shower and started toward my closet to grab some clothes. I pulled open the door and almost stepped on Faith, who was sitting Indian style on the floor, surrounded by books.
She looked up at me in shock before she started to hurry and clean the space around her.
“I was wondering when you were going to come out of the closet.” I joked.
I reached down and picked up one of the books sitting by her feet.
“What the hell are you doing in here anyway? And why are you reading about…” I read the title of the book. “Economics in America, when you should be scrubbing my toilet or something?”
She practically hissed at me, her eyes tiny slits in her face. She was pissed and she’d never looked so fucking hot.
Snatching the book from my hand, she stuffed it in an old purple backpack with her name written in whiteout on the strap.
“I was just catching up on some reading, but don’t worry, your toilets are nice and clean.” She gave me a sarcastic smile before trying to walk around me.
I moved so she was stuck in the closet and placed my arms against the doorframe around me. Her eyes dropped to my chest and roamed across my tattoos. I had a lot more than I had the last time she’d been this close to my body. I liked the way her eyes felt on me.
When she looked back up, her eyes were softer.
“Let me through,” she said calmly.
I shook my head. “Nope.”
She took a deep breath and looked away from me. “Finn, let me out of here. Seriously, I don’t have time to play games with you.”
Her words struck a chord, and I felt myself going from playful to pissed off just that quickly.
“Why not, Faith? You had plenty of time to play games with me when you were younger. Why not now?”
Her eyes clashed with mine as we angrily stared each other down.
“I never played games with you,” she said sternly.
“The hell you didn’t. I bet you felt good—the innocent girl who played the player. Well, think again, little girl. You can’t play someone who doesn’t give a shit about you!” I shouted.
The minute I said it, her face went pale and dropped. I felt sick to my stomach after saying those words—mostly because they were a fucking lie. I’d been so in love with Faith and she’d taken me apart piece by piece when she left. I was still trying to put myself back together four years later.
It was unexpected, but out of nowhere, she exploded. Dropping her bag to the floor, she used her fists as she starting pounding against my chest. She was screaming things I couldn’t understand uncontrollably as she had a breakdown right in front of me.
I let her hit me until my chest became tender from her tiny fists, and then I grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her up against the wall. Still, she tried to kick me in the shins and knee me in the balls. Using one of my legs, I trapped hers. She struggled a little more before finally giving in.
She turned her face away from me, her hair sticking to her flushed cheeks.
“Look at me!” I shouted.
No one was allowed to put their hands on me like that—ever. Grown-ass men had gotten their asses kicked for less.
When she refused to look at me, I used one hand to capture both her wrists and used my other to turn her face to me. When I did, her hair slipped from her cheeks and I could see she was crying. I felt like the biggest dick in the world, but I had to hold strong. I couldn’t be fooled by her again.
Her big brown eyes met mine and her slow flow of tears turned into much more when she burst out crying even harder.
“Please just let me go, Finn,” she cried. “I swore I’d never let you see me like this.”
I was so shocked that I let go of her arms. She grabbed her right one and rubbed it, making me feel bad that I might have held her too roughly. I wasn’t one to hurt a girl, but she had made me so fucking angry.
She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and then reached over to grab her bag.
“Just go ahead and fire me already. I’ll find another job,” she said as she walked out of my closet.
I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but I was pretty sure the girl was having a mental breakdown. If she was still living with her dad, which I was sure she still was, why was she working as a maid? I hadn’t even thought about that. It made me wonder what Faith had been up to all these years.
When I went back into my bedroom, she was nowhere to be found. I wasn’t going to give her what she obviously wanted—I wasn’t going to fire her. If it was torturing her to be around me as badly as it was torturing me to be around her, then I could take it as long as possible.
The following day, I stayed in again just in case she showed. I sat around and watched TV while the guys went out shopping and hit up Disneyland. I waited until later in the afternoon, and when she still didn’t show, I put in a phone call to the temp agency.
“Hi, Mrs. Cooper, this is James Finn. The maid didn’t show up this morning and I was wondering if everything was okay?”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was nervous that I might’ve hurt her arms or something. I was angry, but I didn’t think I was angry enough to actually hurt her.
“Hmm… that’s weird. Let me call Miss Warren and find out if she’s okay. Thanks for the call, Mr. Finn.”
I hated that it made me happy that Faith’s last name was still Warren. Why the fuck did I care if she’d been married? I shouldn’t care about anything that had to do with her, but when I thought of her being with another man, which I’m sure she already had been, I felt a strange pressure in my chest that I didn’t like.
An hour later, she showed up at my door. She said nothing to me as she moved around the condo straightening up and bagging the trash. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I hated that my body responded to her so easily, yet all the girls who threw themselves at me did nothing for me.
“So since when do you read books about economics?” I asked.
I was sitting on a barstool at the counter she was cleaning.
She didn’t answer, which only made me mad. Who the hell did she think she was? I stood up from my stool and snatched up her backpack from the floor. Unzipping it, I had all the books pulled out before she even noticed what I was doing.
“Put them back,” she said as she came toward me.
I looked down at the books in my arms. English, Chemistry, Economics, High School Biology—books that any college student would’ve been done with years before.
She snatched the books from my hands and stuffed them back in her bag.
“Did anyone ever teach you it was rude to go through other people’s things?” she yelled.
I’d never heard her yell so much when she was younger. Actually, the idea of Faith yelling was almost comical. Her vo
ice was too soft and sweet for it to sound forceful. It came out sounding completely wrong.
“Nope. Didn’t your holy rolling daddy ever tell you it was a sin to have premarital sex?” I responded.
Her tiny hand across my cheek caught me off guard. I could tell by her expression that she had shocked herself as well. She gasped and covered her mouth with the hand she’d hit me with. Fire shot through me, but the wrong kind. Instead of being mad, I was so turned on that I could barely hold myself together.
I reached in and pulled her to me, locking my arms behind her back and trapping her in my embrace. My cheek stung and by the way she was staring at the stinging spot, I was sure there was a fierce little handprint there.
“You hit me.” I stated the obvious.
She pressed her palms to my chest and tried to wiggle her way out of my arms. All that did was press her tiny body against my already rock-hard cock.
“You’re not strong enough,” I said. “Isn’t there something you should say to me?”
I couldn’t have given a shit less if she apologized. I just wanted a reason to hold her against me a little longer. The way she was moving was rubbing against the front of my jeans, and it felt like a damn good dry hump. Her hair pulled away from her face again and every time she moved, the sweet scent of roses and fresh power, her familiar scent, would invade my senses.
She stopped struggling against me and looked up at me with big wounded eyes. For a brief moment, I felt my heart melt a little before I realized my mistake and put my guard back up. It was so easy to forget the past when I held her so close. It was easy to forget what she’d done to me. For a moment, I wished to myself that I could forget.
“I guess you want me to apologize?” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry, but you have to admit you deserved it.”
“I deserved to be hurt?” I asked.
Get Rocked Page 58
