Passion in Portland 2016 Anthology

by Anthology

  This is also a good time to clear the air between us. “About earlier…”

  He shakes his head and doesn’t give me a chance to continue. “Let’s forget it, the guys already told me I’ve been an ass lately. So I really don’t need to hear it from you too.”

  Just like that the air is cleared. Brent fills me in on plans for dinner and I leave to get Heather. I’d say she’s my girl, but that’s not really us. All I need now is something crazy that will get her attention when I pick her up.

  CHAPTER 5

  Heather

  This is supposed to just be a fun trip. Go to a concert, hang out with my girlfriends, and see a friend. Just something fun. Casual.

  Instead, I’m a bundle of nerves as I hang up the phone. Sure he’s a rock star. His band is really hot right now, and most of their shows are sold out. He’s also hotter than melting lava, and totally into me.

  This is where I should be sighing, and dreaming of little rock star babies, or seeking out love potions. I can’t do it though, that’s not me. We text, we chat; we post crap on social media and respond to each other like normal people. That’s enough, right?

  He’s not like normal people though.

  That’s the thought that makes me want to keep walking. He’s perfect as Mr. Right Now, but I don’t want to be anyone’s Ms. Right Now long term. He’s always on the road, we live in different states, but he’s hot. The real problem though is I don’t want to be part of their rock star culture. Surprising but it isn’t for me. I’m not the girl to warm anyone’s bed for a few hours so they can move on to someone else. I don’t expect a ring, I mean I could buy my own ring, but there has to be something there. I don’t want a commitment, I’m not offering one, but there must be something in between. Telling me I’m your only date for a night is not going to work for me.

  Alone with my thoughts I’m going through the motions of dressing for the night. I’ve gone through both of my suitcases I brought for the weekend and there’s literally nothing to wear. I wish there was time for a quick shopping trip, but I barely had time to shower.

  “This is why I’m sharing a room with Tabby.”

  Startled I drop the dress in my hands on the bed turning to see Molly in the open doorway holding a bag. She looks flawless as usual. I take in her outfit, skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a barely there top with spaghetti straps.

  “Why is it you never knock on my door? And you are sharing a room with Tabby because you know Tommy is coming back here tonight.” I point at her outfit, “You look great and I hate it.”

  She shakes her head at me, she does that a lot. It always makes me feel like I’ve made the wrong choice; my mother likes to shake her head instead of using words also. I don’t have to invite her in, she moves through the room picking up stray pieces of clothes before she drops them on a chair by the window. The bag from her hands she places across the bed, it looks like a dress bag. Actually it looks like a dress bag from my closet.

  “What’s that?” I point at the bag as she smiles at me like she knows a secret.

  Shrugging she opens the bag and pulls out a flowy white dress. At first I want to tell her that it won’t work but then she holds it up showing off the front of the dress. I love that dress but I’m not sure I want to wear it to a concert.

  Interrupting my thoughts she says, “You can wear your boots with this, it’s short enough to keep his interest, the shoulders are bare, but you still have the sleeves.”

  She’s right I see the merit of the dress. I shake my head, “I’m not you I still need something to hold the girls and I didn’t bring a strapless to wear.”

  This leads us to a discussion about the fact that she has no hips or boobs; this also makes it difficult for us to share clothes. She convinces me that leaving my bra straps showing isn’t the worst thing that could happen today. She helps me into the dress zipping the back for me, and chooses my jewelry while I put on the boots.

  In front of the mirror I fluff my hair and put in the last earring. As I reach for my perfume she hands me my phone, “It’s been making noise.”

  The only person that sends more text messages than me would be Tommy. Sometimes he will send single letters to spell a word just to get my attention. Today though, he’s using random symbols from the emoji keyboard.

  I count three, four, five times he sent me a box with the letters ‘SOS’ in the middle.

  “What’s the smile on your face for?”

  I look up at Molly and realize that I am indeed smiling. “He sent this text to me five times.”

  He probably thinks I’m ignoring him; I pull up the keyboard and search out an emoji as a response. I decide to send him the cookie. I only do it once.

  He responds immediately.

  Tommy: U have the sexiest elevator operator in the world!

  He’s funny but instead of laughing it comes out as a snort.

  Tommy: That’s right- I’m riding the elevator and stopping at every floor looking for you

  Oops, guess I forgot to tell him what room I’m in. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him we got a suite, even as a set assistant I’m sure this room is more than people can afford for a weekend away. He’s going to see it later; I hope he doesn’t ask too many questions.

  Me: or you could just wait in the lobby like a normal person

  His response is the jester symbol, which is so much like the symbol for the band. I heard one of the guys bragging that even the iPhone people are Five Myle Fools fans. That could be.

  Tommy: not happening

  A last check in the mirror, I spray my hair a final time, straighten the waist of my dress, turn to look at my back, and start searching for my bag to take with me. Molly has busied herself hanging clothes that were previously strewn about, and generally cleaning up for me. This is why she doesn’t like to share a room with me; she had enough of me after sharing a dorm room. I love her but her OCD drives me up a wall. It’s not that I like to be messy; I just have more personality than she does.

  “It’s time to go, Tommy is on the elevator.”

  That gets her attention and she drops the pile of clothes in her arms. “Why would he be on the elevator?”

  I shrug. “He’s waiting for us.”

  It’s a reasonable answer, but I guess it doesn’t make sense to her. She says it quietly like I shouldn’t hear her, but she knows I can. “Of course he’s waiting for us on the elevator.”

  CHAPTER 6

  TOMMY

  The guys are sending me text messages just to blow up my phone. Some are pictures of girls, some are bullshit questions, but the really annoying ones are asking about Heather. When she met the band she was a bit enamored with Brent. What’s not to like about him? He’s our front man and sure it’s his voice that all the ladies hear. They just don’t realize that it’s really the drum beat that draws them all in.

  Staying in the limo was probably the easy choice. For Heather though, I’m willing to go further to get her attention. As I get onto the elevator I start to text her. She didn’t mention her room number, and asking for it is too easy.

  A steady stream of text messages along with making the elevator stop at every single floor is definitely going to get her attention. Stopping at every floor isn’t the most fun, but it’s worth it when the doors open to a couple of fans that recognize me. Luckily they didn’t realize it was me until the doors were closing. That could have been awkward. As I reach the fifth floor I type out another text to Heather. She responds this time by telling me she thinks I should wait in the lobby. It’s too late for that, so I continue with my mission.

  The doors open on floor nine, and there she is waiting for me. I step off the elevator allowing the doors to close behind me while staring at her. She smiles waiting for me to say something. I look her over, nodding I approve of her wardrobe choice. Short dress, love the boots, and her hair is red. That’s a new color and it looks like a normal hair color, not the rainbow variety she usually has in her hair. On the phone I called her gorgeo
us; she’s so much more than that.

  Later when I’m on stage watching her in the audience I will kick myself if I miss an opportunity to touch her. So when she batts her eyes at me, and her teeth sink into her lip, I forget that we are standing in the hallway of a hotel. I pull her into my arms trying to hold back as I nibble on her lips. Her tongue reaches out sliding across my lips as she tries to pull away. I drop my hands and cup her posterior pulling her against me to keep her from getting away.

  She stiffens up in my arms while allowing my tongue to invade her mouth. Savoring her she tastes minty as she yields allowing her fingers to stroke through my hair and down the back of my neck.

  Growling into her open mouth, she breaks our kiss. Instead of letting her go, I take her hand to spin her around as she squeals. She settles against me and I whisper so only she can hear me, “Hello gorgeous.”

  Almost as if she can’t remember my name she responds in kind, blinking her shiny eyes. “Hey rock star.”

  I slowly release her as I realize that someone is talking around us. My eyes can’t see beyond her, there’s nothing else important in the world. The chatter around us slowly breaks through my thoughts. Taking her hand she motions to the elevator, “You could have just let us on the elevator, and then we wouldn’t have to wait for the next one.”

  Looking over my shoulder I see her friends for the first time. Have they been here the whole time? One of them, I think she’s the roommate, points to me and then the elevator. It’s then that I recognize the words that Heather just said.

  Looking back to her I lean in for a quick kiss and tell her, “Couldn’t do that it was compromised.” She looks confused but I don’t give her time to ask. Shrugging I explain, “It was going to stop at every floor, I already pushed the buttons.”

  Heather lets out a laugh before introducing me to her friends, even though I have already met the roommate in the past. In the elevator I’m reminded that Heather talks faster than anyone I’ve ever met before. It’s easy to remember that she grew up back east. As her friends talk about a recent party they attended I pull Heather so she leans back into me. Planting a kiss close to her ear I whisper so only she can hear me, “You look gorgeous. I hope we get some alone time later.”

  Squeezing my arm she rubs against me as she nods her head. Her girlfriends are still talking, including her in the conversation with them. She doesn’t let on that we’re having our own conversation, just the two of us. Keeping her close and letting her talk with her friends is almost relaxing, there are no expectations coming from either of us. She’s content to just lean into me.

  She asked for three tickets for tonight but I selfishly hoped she was on her own. Should have known she would have an entourage with her for the concert. I’m the rock star, but it’s Heather that is larger than life.

  The conversation turns to the subject of dinner. It’s easy to only half listen to the girls talking; I grew up with four sisters that never seemed to stop talking. A quick elbow to my middle precedes a series of questions from the ladies.

  “I have a car waiting ladies.” They probably expect to see the band tonight but I give a mock apology as I announce, “I’m sorry to say its dinner with the band tonight.”

  The doors begin to open as Heather excitedly exclaims, “I was hoping it would be dinner with the band!” She claps her hands and bounces around until she turns to me and plants a kiss on my cheek. Pointing a finger into the center of my chest, her voice takes on a sultry tone, “I will be rewarding you later rock star.”

  The promise of later with Heather is enough to push away any doubt that she’s here for me and not my band.

  CHAPTER 7

  HEATHER

  Molly and I are dancing to the last song of the opening band as we see Tabby making her way through the crowd. I had my doubts that she would bring back beer for all of us, but she does in fact have three large cups in her hands. Molly grabs my arm and points to the far side of the stage as she leans in close to yell into my ear, “That looks like Tommy over there.”

  Sending my attention where she points, I can see him. He’s there watching me as we dance as close to the stage as we can get. I wave to him and let out a yell, it’s not like he’s going to hear me over the sound of the music with this crowd. From my other side I feel a plastic cup press into my hand, lifting it in a mock salute I take a long drink loving the cold liquid running down inside of me. Tabby must have been jostled along the way as the cup is wet and isn’t full. It doesn’t matter; I won’t finish a whole drink anyway. Looking back to the far side of the stage he’s gone. It makes me wonder if he was just checking on me before he had to do something, or if it’s part of his routine.

  Before the show we met the band at a local oyster bar. They might all be grown men, but they still act like little boys. They had already ordered plates of oysters that were on the tables by the time we got to dinner. Molly and Tabby were a little shy about eating oysters, neither of them have eaten them before. The comments from the guys didn’t help persuade them. They aren’t my favorite but they sure are fun to eat with a group.

  At first Tommy turned up his nose at the oysters, while the other members of the band made jokes about the looks of them. The maturity of men never ceases to amaze me. Sure the oysters resemble the female genitalia, but for real get over it. My guess is none of them are virgins, or they have at least seen pictures somewhere.

  To shut them all up I reached for an oyster. That got their attention. This is something I wanted them all to see, so I took my time. I ran my fingers around the shell first, poking at the meat of the oyster. I even allowed myself to giggle, knowing what was coming next. Picking up a slice of lemon I drippled a little juice on it before I slowly let my tongue run along the meaty flesh.

  From beside me I could hear Tommy gasp. That’s right; it’s not hard to fake this. Around the table the guys quieted, and I saw that most of them were giving me their attention. I took the opportunity to close my eyes letting my tongue wander, as I pant faking pleasure from this simple act. The salt, the ocean, even the moist meat under my tongue couldn’t distract me from making a spectacle of myself.

  Across from my Molly complains, “Really, you have to do that here.”

  Pulling the oyster from my mouth, I blow her a kiss and lick at my lips. She’s going to kill me later but I don’t care, I’m all in at this point. “Don’t worry Molly, you remember what comes next.”

  From the far side of the table I hear the word dude, but I have no idea who said it. Resuming my task I let my tongue cover the oyster, allowing a little moan to escape my lips. It’s time to move this along, so I tip my head back never losing contact and open my mouth wide. It’s louder than I planned, but the sucking noise with another moan has someone slapping the table.

  With a final slurp the meat of the oyster slides from the shell into my mouth and down my throat. From somewhere I hear the comment, “she swallows.”

  Pulling the shell away, I open my eyes trying not to laugh uncontrollably. I lick at the salt on my lips turning to Tommy I say loud enough for everyone to hear me. “Swallowing is never the problem.”

  Dropping the shell in front of me I bring my finger to my lips and give it a final lick. The moan wasn’t planned but it certainly has an effect on the guys at the table. All eyes are on me, and for a moment I tell myself this is my When Harry Met Sally moment. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.

  Three plates of oysters are pushed in my direction with requests to ‘please do that again.’ Instead of giving them what they want, I schooled them on the proper way to eat oysters. Some of them followed my lead trying to show off their pussy eating skills. First thing I did was insist they discontinue the discussion of aphrodisiac foods while in an oyster bar, that’s just tacky. I also taught them the rule of “R” for eating oysters, that means to only enjoy the raw meat in months with the letter and they would be sure to eat fresh. The other girls didn’t take on the dish but the guys all respect me more.
We had to order more and Tommy even let me feed him a few of them, but he said they aren’t really his thing.

  Swallowing down another mouthful of beer the stage is being set up for Five Myle Fools to take the stage. My phone has been vibrating in my bag but I’ve been ignoring it. If it’s Tommy, shame on him for interrupting the concert and anyone else can wait until I get around to calling them back.

  Molly points to my purse, I know she can hear it too. I concede pulling it from my bag I see a few missed calls from my mother. She called earlier, but when I listened to the message it was my brother. He doesn’t call me often but he has left me a few messages today. There’s little chance I can hear his message here, so I put my phone away planning to call him tomorrow.

  I’ve been worried about leading Tommy on; I’m planning to keep my feet firmly planted in my single life. That doesn’t mean I need a date every Friday, it doesn’t even mean I’m looking for a random hook-up, and it for sure doesn’t mean I’m desperate to find the love of my life either.

  It just means that I’m happy being me. Oh, and single, I’m happy being single. Even my friends accept this about me, they don’t insist on fixing me up on any dreaded blind dates. Thank God! I mean really is there anything worse that a blind date?

  None of the guys were surprised to see me here tonight. Molly and Tabby were shy at dinner; I don’t think Tabby got out more than a handful of words. She even ordered her dinner by pointing at the menu; at least she wore a low cut top so the waiter was pleased to look over her shoulder as she ordered. Josh was sitting between Tabby and Molly, and he was more than pleased to point out close to every item on the menu to her. She didn’t catch on that her top was sharing her goods; I think she almost drank her weight in cocktails. That’s unusual because she’s not usually much of a drinker.

  We were backstage with the guys before the show so I was able to get a peek at their set list for tonight. In the center of the stage is Tommy, the rhythmic pounding of their last song before the encore break has the crowd up on their feet. The encore break makes no sense to me; if they need a break it should be earlier in the show at least. Tommy asked me to be backstage for the encore; he said something about a good luck kiss. That only prompted me to give him an extra before the show, Sam asked for one too but I’m not here to kiss the whole band. Tommy didn’t seem to like the idea that I might offer a kiss to his band mate either.