by Emma Tharp
Ethan’s eyes narrow at me, but he nods. “Yup. On my way out.”
“I’ll see you at the apartment in thirty minutes,” I say.
Ethan barely looks at me before he turns and storms out the front door.
Placing my head in my hands, I let the tears flow again.
5
Ethan
My wet cheeks sting from the pelting rain. Visions of a strange man with his hands on Caroline riddle my thoughts and eat away at me. My primal urge to protect her and rip that fucker’s head off are all I’ve been able to think about. It’s been two hours since I left the restaurant and I’m still not ready to see her.
Keeping my temper under control is normally my strong suit, but not today. Fuck if I didn’t blow my top in that sorry excuse for a restaurant today. Seeing my girl dressed like a stripper with some dude’s hands all over her was enough to have me seeing stars. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing up to him and punching his lights out. Instead, I took out all my fury on Caroline. Seeing those tears stain her cheeks kills me, especially when it’s my fault, but how dare she keep things from me now. No wonder she didn’t want me talking to her friend, Cora. She must’ve been a co-worker of hers and she didn’t want me to know where she works. Caroline was right. I do not approve of her job and she’s going to have to quit moving forward. Period. I don’t care if I have to pay her bills until she finds something else.
Since I got to Nashville, I’ve seen a change in Caroline. She seemed lighter, more open, with the exception of where she works. Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. I had high hopes for us and could see a future with her. Am I ready to throw it all away because of her secret job?
I’m a half block away from Caroline’s apartment and the rain and time have cooled me down enough to go talk to her. With my sneakers sloshing puddles behind me, I walk through the halls and ride the elevator up to her apartment. I pound on the door once and she swings it open as if she’d been standing there waiting for me to get back.
Caroline is wearing my Nirvana t-shirt that’s at least three sizes too big for her and shorts. It’s a relief to see her out of her work attire. Her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed as she looks me over. She’s probably been crying since I walked out of the restaurant. As pathetic as it sounds, I take a small amount of comfort in knowing that I’m not the only one who’s been a wreck for the last couple of hours.
“You’re drenched. Come in and dry off.” She’s on auto-pilot trying to take care of everything.
I know I look a mess, but we need to talk before I worry about being wet.
“I don’t care about that,” I tell her as I step into the apartment and shut the door behind me. “We need to talk.”
“I’m so sorry, Ethan. Please say I didn’t ruin everything between us.”
Looking down at the floor, a puddle forms at my feet. At least it’s tile. I look at her and run my hand through my damp hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She flinches like the words are a slap in the face. “I was afraid.”
“Of what?” Was I that bad in the past that she was scared of me?
“That you’d judge me. And you’d look at me with that look.” She points at my face. “Like you’re ashamed of me. Like I’ve disappointed you.” Tears stream down her cheeks now.
Fuck. I’ve hurt her feelings. I go to her and without thought I rub my thumb under her eyes. “Linus, you’re getting it all wrong.”
“Am I? Then please explain it to me.” Her deep blue eyes search my face.
Could she really be surprised that I wouldn’t like what I saw today? “I’m a man and seeing you, the woman I care the most about, with your body exposed and men touching you, as Neanderthal as it sounds, made me want to throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of there.”
She puts a tentative hand on my chest, the warmth of her fingers penetrating the damp material of my shirt. “It’s just a job. That pays very well. And hundreds of women apply for positions there every week. I’m lucky to work there.”
Why did she have to say that? It reignites the flame that I was trying to extinguish. How could she be so blind? “Lucky?” I say, my tone layered with disgust. “You think it’s good fortune that landed you that job? No. I don’t think so. It’s your body. How does that make you feel?”
She blinks and suddenly her eyes are alive with anger. “What do you want me to say? That I love it when men stare at me all day? Is that what you want? It makes me feel amazing to have people watch the way I walk and take in my every move?” She saunters across the kitchen, flipping her hair over her shoulders, and batting her eyes at me.
If I were a dragon, flames would be shooting out of my nose. Why the fuck does she want that type of attention? If I were with her she’d never need that from anyone but me because I’d tell her every day how gorgeous she is and how much she means to me. “I hate that you love it when men stare at you,” I growl.
Her eyes go wide, shock written all over her face. “Are you kidding me? That’s not why I work there. Like I told you. It’s only for the money. Since my dream of becoming a big name singer hasn’t been realized yet, I’ve got to pay the bills.”
“Pay the bills,” I mutter out, mocking her.
“What? You think this is some kind of a joke?” she bites out.
“No.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she says, “Good, because it’s my life here in Nashville. I don’t have mommy and daddy to take care of me. I’ve got to take care of myself and that’s just what I’ve been doing.”
“Is that a dig? Because I earn every cent I make. My parents don’t give me anything either. I bust my ass for them and work sixty hours a week doing paperwork and managing that place, like I want any of that. Trust me, I don’t.” Pressure builds in my chest, threatening to crush me. If my parents weren’t who they were and did everything for me, I wouldn’t feel so responsible for them now. “The place was going under before I stepped in. The last manager was embezzling money and nearly put my parents into financial ruin. I had to do something.”
“Oh,” is all she says and her hand goes over her heart as if it breaks her to hear that someone would hurt my parents. She was close to them, too. It switches something inside me as I remember the bond her and my folks shared.
The only sound in the room is our breathing, sped up from anger and frustration.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I try to ground myself and not overreact. I’ve got to see it from her side and help her see it from mine. “I’m sorry my reaction was over the top today. I was caught off guard.”
Leaning into me, she looks up into my eyes with hope in her expression. “I’m sorry, too, for not telling you. I was going to tonight, I’ve been working up the courage.”
The tremor in her voice and pure expression on her face lets me know that without a doubt, she’s being honest. Leaning my forehead against hers, I say, “Any chance you could work at a quiet Italian restaurant where the dress code is long sleeved shirts and pants?”
She giggles even though I wasn’t really kidding. “We can talk more later because we have to get ready or we aren’t going to make it on time to the Freemont.”
Looking at my watch, I say, “Damn. I’ve got to get out of these wet clothes.”
The energy at the Freemont is electric. Crowds of people fill the space and the dance floor around the stage is crowded with bodies swaying to the music. It edges out some of the negativity that’s still taking up space in my mind since seeing Caroline at her job. I know I need to get out of my own damn head if I’m going to be able to move forward with Caroline. She said she was going to come clean to me about her job and I believe her, so I should let well enough alone. I’m just having a hard time not seeing that biker with his hand down her shirt. I shudder at the thought.
After checking in at the front desk, I lead Caroline toward the bar. A little liquid might tone down my undesirable thoughts.
“What do you want to
drink?” I ask.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Leaning in on the bar, I order us a couple shots of whiskey. When the bartender places them in front of me, I place cash on the bar and hand one to Caroline and lift mine to clink with hers.
“Cheers,” she says.
I swallow mine in one throat-burning gulp. The fire that blazes down my chest is a welcome distraction. “Want another?” I ask her as I watch her eyes water from the drink.
“Nope, I’m good.” A smile spreads across her cheeks and I can’t help but grin back at her. She’s so damn sexy with her blonde, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders and her gorgeous body in jeans and a black tank top.
“Okay, I’m going to have one more,” I say, holding up one finger.
Ordering another shot, I pay the bartender and down the amber liquid unceremoniously. Just like the last one, its slow fire starts to blur the edges of my unwanted anger and jealousy.
Turning my attention to the stage, there’s a guy with tattoos up and down his arms and even on his neck. He’s sitting in a chair with his guitar on his lap, strumming an intense melody. His voice seems to vibrate off the walls. He’s got good range and the song he’s singing about love lost strikes a chord in me.
Caroline stands in front of me. I tug on her belt loops and pull her back to my chest and drape my arms around her waist. I want, no need some physical contact with her. Something to bridge the gap between us. She rests her head on my chest and we move together to the music. Her head turns toward me and it’s as if my body is on auto-pilot: my mouth is on hers and my body immediately responds, hardening with the gentle flick of her tongue against mine.
I break the kiss and smooth her hair away from her face. “I think we’re on next. We better stop kissing or I’m not going to be able to move.”
She giggles and licks her lips. “We can save it for later.” Caroline has to feel the same as I do. If we can come together and reform the bond we once had, it can give us something to work with.
“Sounds good to me.”
When the tattooed singer finishes his set a few minutes later, our names are called up to the stage. A little jolt of pre-performance nerves rush my gut as I grab Caroline’s hand and lead her to the stage.
We grab our guitars that we left at the side of the stage and take our seats in front of the mics. I slip my guitar up over my shoulder and watch Caroline do the same. I give her a grin and mouth to her, “You ready?”
She nods; her cheeks are pink and there’s a gleam in her eyes.
Leaning in toward the mic, I say, “We’re Caroline and Ethan. This song is called ‘Summer Love.’” My voice sounds confident, but I feel anything but. It’s been a month since the reunion and before that it was five years before the band broke up. It’s been a long time since I’ve performed in front of a crowd this size; there has to be at least a couple hundred people here.
Strumming the first few chords to the intro, Caroline joins in and I keep my eyes glued on her. It’s easier to focus on her right now. She’s so beautiful, free and in her element on stage. I don’t think she’s got a clue how much performing suits her.
Caroline’s voice opens up and her eyes seduce the crowd, waking them up and delivering the lyrics to them on a perfect stream of sound. I look away from her and toward the masses of people as they dance around, so into the music and her. You can see it in their faces; they’re mesmerized by the tone of her voice and the lyrics to the song.
The heat from the lights blaze down on us, momentarily clouding my thoughts. It’s my turn to come in and sing the chorus with Caroline but I miss the cue. She keeps going and I come in at the next round.
There’s a guy in the crowd that’s fondling the woman he’s with. She seems into it. His hand comes up to her breast and suddenly there’re images of Caroline at work earlier with the biker dude. Fuck. Shaking my head, I do my best to be present in the moment and not think about anything but the music. The rest of the song seems to drag on, but I try to play all my parts the best I can.
Caroline stares at me when ‘Summer Love’ comes to an end. She mouths, “You okay?” to me.
I nod and say, “I’m fine.” Even though I’m not.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and put all my energy into “Tonight.” I think about the good times that Caroline and I have shared since I got here. Karaoke, lying beside her, touring Nashville, making her breakfast. This song, as we harmonize together, frees me and opens me up because it’s about her and me before the world got in our way, before she left me. Our voices weave in and out and around each other like our souls are coming together, bound with an unbreakable bond of time, music, and love.
Toward the end of the song, I open my eyes and feel her looking at me. Slowly, I turn my head toward her and she’s smiling as she sings. Our eyes are locked and pure liquid chemistry flows between us. It’s like a drug, this feeling of euphoria, and I never want to let it go. When the song ends, the crowd roars and cheers and my insides seem to light up with electricity. It was time for us to get up and leave the stage, but I crave more.
Caroline grabs my hand and we leave the stage together.
As soon as we hit the floor she starts jumping up and down. I grab her in my arms and lift her off the floor and spin her around.
“That was amazing,” she says, excitement radiating off her.
“Holy shit. You were incredible. I was just along for the ride.” I set her back down on her feet.
She pokes me in the ribs. “Stop. You were great. You just needed to warm up.”
Or stop thinking about some guy with his hands on you.
“My head wasn’t in the game until the second song. Hopefully, it won’t hurt us.”
“I think it went well.”
Caroline’s optimism is welcome even if I think I bombed the first song. How could I let myself get in my own head like that, especially during a performance that could possibly help us get our foot in the door at a record company?
“Stop overthinking it,” she says and tugs on my shirt. She kisses me, a soft little kiss, but it doesn’t matter. My body still responds to her, heating up from the inside with just a kiss. “Now let’s get a drink.”
We head to the bar and find an opening. We order a couple of pints and as soon as we get them we clink them together.
“Great job tonight,” I say and mean it. She tore it up.
“Thank you.” Her smile is so bright; it doesn’t look like anything could ruin it. “What do you think happens next? If someone was interested in us, do you think they contact us via the information we filled out when we got here?”
As I take in the woman on stage belting out some pretty intense notes, I turn to look into Caroline’s eyes. Breaking her hopes and dreams isn’t an option, but from what I’ve seen so far, there is some amazing talent here tonight. “I’m not sure what the next step is.”
Caroline and I watch the next several acts and move to the dance floor. We sway to the music, and I revel at the feel of her in my arms, the smell of her perfume and the happiness she exudes—it’s contagious. Being around her this way, touching her, connecting with her makes me feel like we can conquer any road blocks thrown in our way.
Her hands come up to my chest and I slink my arms around her waist. “You ready to get out of here? I want to go home now.” Her eyebrows raise and she makes slow circles with her fingertip over my shirt.
My heart pounds and my dick twitches. She wants me and I want her more than anything. “Let’s get out of here.”
Caroline swallows the last sip of her beer and we make our way to the door.
A man that looks to be in his mid-forties stops us. “Caroline, my name is Marcus Campbell from IM Records.”
Caroline’s eyes widen. “Hello.”
“Great performance tonight. Here’s my card. Give me a call next week.” He hands her the card and nods before he walks away.
I’m sure my jaw shifts out of joint. “Holy
shit. We just got the card of a record exec at IM Records.” That company is a giant in the industry. They’ve signed several big acts that I love.
“Oh my God. Did that really just happen?” She throws her arms around me and kisses my neck over and over again. “We did it. Let’s get a cab and go home to celebrate.” She pulls back and her eyes are full of promise.
Without wasting any time, we head out of the Freemont and take the first cab at the curb.
Caroline’s lips are on me and her hand is in my hair as soon as we sit down. Looks like the cab driver is going to get a little show. I couldn’t care less. My girl is turned on and I couldn’t want anything more.
6
Caroline
Tonight felt like a dream. We just left the Freemont with the business card of someone that wants to talk to us. I don’t know if I should get my hopes up, but it’s too late. They already are.
All evening, Ethan and I have been getting closer. I thought I ruined everything between us when he showed up at Lolita’s, but the way he’s been responding to me shows me that he’s trying to forgive me.
The cab ride seems to take forever, but my lips never leave Ethan’s the entire ride home. I can’t wait to be with him again. It’s been too long and I need him tonight.
Ethan pays the cab driver, we hurry inside, and go immediately to my room. The closing of the door was like flicking of a switch. All of our pent up desires come crashing over us. His hands pull my shirt over my head in one frenzied movement along with my bra and his shirt comes next.
He cups my breasts in his hands and takes one in his mouth, sucking on my nipple until it’s hard and tight. Pleasure radiates through me and I let out a soft moan. His hot mouth on my sensitive flesh intensifies my need to have him inside me. I want to give him all of me just as much as I need to have all of him.
My greedy hands come down to undo his jeans and slide them and his boxer briefs down to the fooor. He steps out of them and he backs me to the bed. I lean back and Ethan reaches down and yanks off my skirt and panties. I stare at him and his beautifully defined body. His muscles are thick from his strong shoulders to the V above his pelvis and his masculine, powerful legs; he’s sculpted perfection. A pulse builds between my legs from merely looking at him.
