Renegade

by Heather Dahlgren

  Without hesitation, she holds her tiny hand out for me. “I’d love to.”

  The driver opens our door and we step out of the limo hands intertwined. I take a deep breath knowing this is a risk I normally don’t take with women. The breeze catches a loose tendril of her hair and it flies across her face. My heart pounds in my chest seeing the wonder in her eyes.

  We step through the glass doors of the Empire State Building and Brooklyn gasps at the large foyer completely void of people. A big, burly man approaches and I stick out my hand for him to shake.

  “Fitz, it’s an honor to have you tonight. I’m Pete and Jerry filled me in on everything. It is all set and ready,” he says, holding a hand out to me.

  As I shake his hand, Brooklyn comes to stand by me. “Nice to meet you Pete. This beautiful woman is Brooklyn.” He shakes her hand and gives me a nod of approval, but when she turns her head he fucking undresses her with his eyes. Son of a bitch. “Brooklyn, I just need to talk to Pete for a second,” I say and grab his shirt pulling him away. I let go, but not before giving him a little shove. “Keep your dick in your pants. She’s a friend and I don’t appreciate you, eye fucking her. Got it?”

  “Yes, sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect,” he says and shoves his hands in his pockets as a bead of sweat falls down the center of his forehead, falling onto the tip of his chubby nose.

  “You disrespected her and I don’t take kindly to that. Don’t let it happen again.” He agrees and starts to back away. “I think I’ve got it from here. Is my waitress up there?”

  “Yes, she is waiting for you. Please, Fitz, accept my apology. I need my job,” he says as his pupils bounce back and forth between mine. He’s lucky I feel for him and his need to keep a job, otherwise I’d already be on the phone with his boss.

  I just nod and walk toward Brooklyn. When I reach her, I rest my hand on the small of her back. “You ready to see the top?”

  “Definitely,” she says and we get into the steel elevator.

  Being in this enclosed space, alone, with her is making me want to push her against the wall and ravage her body. Get on my knees and sink my tongue deep inside her. I want to see if all of her tastes as sweet as her coconut scent. My mouth waters and I lick my lips watching her in the mirrored walls.

  The elevator opens on the eighty-sixth floor and we exit, making our way to the outside observatory. She stands there taking in the beauty of the city below us. The bright lights of the buildings giving us a magical display. I wrap my arms around her waist and grin. “What do you think?”

  “It’s eerily peaceful being up this high, almost like flying while standing still.” She turns her head with the sexy smile in place.

  Moving to stand next to me, we make our way to look over at the city. When we can go no further, she wraps her arms around my waist, standing as close as possible. We don’t say anything for a few minutes, just take in the city or in my case I take her in. Out of the corner of my eye I watch her, while she watches the city below.

  “Fitz, this is just unreal.” she says holding a bit tighter when a wind gust hits us.

  “The view is stunning,” I say, never once taking my eyes off her.

  She turns her head and when she realizes what I mean, she blushes with a small smile. “I’m surprised we are the only ones here, to be honest.” She’s trying to change the subject and I wonder if it’s because of her lame ass boyfriend or she doesn’t know how to take a compliment.

  “Actually, I rented the space just for us,” I say, watching her reaction closely.

  She backs up, head shaking with wide eyes. She covers her mouth with one hand as I try not to smile. “You what?”

  “If I didn’t do that, there is no way we would be able to talk or enjoy our time here. Fans would be all over us and I figured you’d like the privacy.” I reach my hand out for her to take it.

  She looks at it and back at my face. “So wait, you’re telling me you paid to have the Empire State Building closed to just us?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fitz, that’s too much,” she says, finally placing her hand in mine, making my system come alive with adrenaline.

  I crack a smile and pull her to me. “Brooklyn, believe me, it won’t hurt my bank account. Like at all.” After a few minutes of staying wrapped in each other, I pull away and walk around a bit too where I know the table is waiting for us.

  In the corner, overlooking the expanse of Central Park down below, a tiny white-clothed table sits. Sparkling crystal wine glasses and silver cutlery adorn the table with a bright red rose standing tall in the middle. When she sees the table set up, she stops in her tracks. “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you’d like to have dinner on top of the world,” I say and pull her seat out for her. She sits down and I go to sit across from her. A waitress rushes over and pours each of us a glass of red wine, before going back to stand to the side. I’d much rather a beer or hard liquor, but Poppy said wine is romantic. “I know you don’t drink, so if you don’t like the wine, there are other things.”

  “This is by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” she says and picks up her glass. “Thank you for taking time out of your crazy life to plan this incredible night for me.”

  “Brooklyn, it’s not over yet. Let’s eat,” I say with a wink.

  I asked Poppy what Brooklyn’s favorite meal was and she told me chicken parmesan, so I had two plates delivered, along with salads and warm bread.

  When the waitress places our food in front of us, Brooklyn covers her mouth and looks up at me. “Are you kidding me? How did you know?”

  “I’m not just a musician baby,” I say, giving her a smirk. “Now, tell me your favorite part of the city from today.”

  We talk throughout the meal about everything she saw today and how she loved it. She went on and on about seeing Brooklyn and Central Park. She told me she is going to walk the park one day and I make a mental note to either be there myself or make sure she has security with her. She is too trusting, too naïve to walk around alone. We finish up dinner, which she says is the best chicken parm she’s ever had, and the waitress takes everything away.

  After a few minutes of silence while she glances out at the breathtaking view of the city night life, I reach over placing my hand over hers. “Tell me something,” her eyes flitter to mine than back out to the city. I squeeze her hand, garnering her attention again, “What was your one big dream growing up?”

  She pulls her hand out from under mine and puts them both on her lap. “My dream?” she asks and casts her green eyes downward, giving me a perfect view of her jawline and my body heats up at the thought of nibbling along it. I’m not sure if she’s ignoring the question, thinking of an answer, but I patiently sit and wait. She finally turns back to me and shrugs. “When I was little, I wanted to be an artist, because my teacher said my painting was good.” She gives me a small smile, while I nod my head. “In high school my guidance counselor suggested I work toward the goal of getting scholarships, so I did. I went to college and got my degree in social work, because my parents said it was a good fit for me.” I’m starting to notice a pattern here, but I grin when she rolls her eyes. “I worked at the bank while I went to college, because a friend at the time said I should work while going to school. I graduated and my boss at the bank said I was too good to let go, so I stayed. I don’t know what my dream was, I guess I’ve been living everyone else’s,” she says lifting her delicate shoulders and turning her green gaze away from me.

  I have no choice, I get up and kneel in front of her, resting my hands on her soft thighs. “Have you ever done anything you wanted to do?” Slowly she shakes her head and it pisses me off. Who the fuck doesn’t let someone figure out their own dream? What kind of people is she surrounded by at home? “Brooklyn, what do you want to do?”

  “Fitz, I don’t know. Banking is what I know. Social work is what I’ve learned. I don’t know where my heart lies,” she whispers.r />
  “Don’t think so hard,” I say, moving my face closer to hers. “Tell me what you want, Brooklyn.” I don’t know how it’s turned from her dreams, to mine, but this is mine. I want, no I need to kiss her.

  “I want a lot of things I can’t have, Fitz, but I’m scared” she says and stands up wrapping her delicate arms around herself. “I think we need to go.”

  Unfuckingbelievable. I stand up, pull her to me and hold her close. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” I say, taking advantage of this moment of her letting her guard down.

  “What’s your dream Fitz?” she asks, still wrapped around me.

  “I’m living my dream, baby,” I say.

  “You never want more?”

  Well that’s the million dollar question, but I’ll never say it aloud. “Maybe, but for now, I’ve got everything I want.” I mean it too, because at this moment, with her in my arms, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

  She finally pulls away and we end our night, high above the city. When we get back into the limo, she smiles at me and lays her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for a magical night. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Neither will I, Brooklyn.” Neither will I.

  I’ve slept a total of four hours. I can’t sleep, because every time I close my eyes, I see piercing blue ones staring into my soul. Trying to figure me out and making me want to do things I’ve never thought of before. It’s no better when I open them, because the only thing I can think about is the night Fitz planned for me. A magical night that would never have happened if he wasn’t the popular, wealthy rock star he is. Part of it turns me on and part of it scares the shit out of me. I’m not sure if he’s trying to seduce me or if he generally wants me to experience all these wonderful things.

  When we are together, he makes me feel so special, so beautiful. I find myself getting sucked into his words, his touch and his stories. Although, when I’m laying here, staring at the ceiling, it makes me wonder how much of it’s real and how much of it’s an act. I just don’t know.

  “Brooklyn, are you up?” Poppy says as she opens the bedroom door.

  “I’m up.” I turn to face her.

  She sits on the bed and has that big ass smile on her face again. She raises her eyebrows and shakes my legs, before bouncing up and down on the bed. “Damn it, tell me how your night was. Nate and I heard you come home pretty late.”

  “It was, shit, it was everything. It was too much and it wasn’t enough,” I say, letting my true feelings flow without thinking about it. I tell her everything from the limo to dinner and the kiss it constantly seems he’s going to take. I tell her my concerns, my questions and what I’m feeling. When I’m done, I regret every word I let spill.

  “Brooklyn, this isn’t Fitz. This isn’t a game, this isn’t how he is, ever. He’s a one nightstand, wam-bam get the fuck out ma’am, kind of guy. He planned a night to be with you and only you. He made sure everyone else, especially me, had plans. Dump Hank and step up to a rock star, girl,” she says, squeezing my leg.

  “Stop it, Poppy. I’m only here until Saturday and after I leave, Fitz will go back to his ways and I’ll go back to mine.” I try to force a smile, but it’s useless. Just the thought of leaving makes me sad. I think if Fitz asked me again what my dream is, it would be to live here.

  “Don’t think like that. Just enjoy yourself while you’re here.” I nod my head as she continues, “So I need to go check out a few venues today, so you can just hang here until I get back or maybe hang out with the guys.”

  No way, I’m not doing this again. If I hang out with the guys, I will do nothing but tell my body to focus and my head to remember Hank. “I think I’ll just stay here,” I say and sit up.

  “Wrong answer. The guys have a day set up for you. Something about teaching you good music. I’m to drop you off at the studio on my way to the airport,” she says and stands up.

  “Airport?”

  “I need to fly out to Philly, it’s faster than driving. I’ll be back in a few hours. You’ll never miss me. So get showered because we leave here in less than two hours.” She sways toward the door, stopping momentarily to raise her hand and blow me a kiss and then walks out of the room.

  Well, I’m glad I was given the choice of what to do today. Although, I’m kind of excited to get a music lesson from Renegade. I’m not sure they will be able to change my music choice, but it might be fun to try.

  **

  An hour and a half later, I’m dressed in a pair of cut off jean shorts, a sweat shirt that hangs off one shoulder and flip flops. My hair is down and straight and my makeup is once again minimal, but I do add a bit of light eye makeup.

  Poppy tells me how great I look and I’m starting to get used to hearing it all the time. “Come on girl, the cab will be here in a minute. You have everything you need?”

  “What the hell do I need?” I ask and we both laugh.

  “I don’t know. I just thought I’d ask,” she says and grabs her house keys, “Let’s go.”

  We get to the studio and I open the door and start to get out, but she doesn’t. “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “I don’t have time, I need to catch a flight. Nate will call me and tell me if you guys are still here or if you went home. Don’t worry, go have fun.” She pushes on my shoulder, edging me out of the cab. The activity on the streets of the city are loud and as I listen to the whistles of people on the street hailing cabs, I hear the screech of tires and glance up. A yellow taxi nearly misses a blonde woman trying to cross the busy street. The city is alive, and it almost frightens me, but on the other hand it intrigues me.

  Hating the fact I need to walk into the studio alone, I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I steadily walk toward the building. I understand Poppy has to work, but I do wish we had more time together. I’m grateful for Fitz and the guys for keeping me busy though until she comes back.

  With my heart pounding in my chest, I walk into the studio and am greeted by loud music and laughter. “Fuck yes, Brooklyn’s here,” Ethen yells, jumping over the coffee table to pull me in for a hug.

  “Oh hi, Ethen,” I say, completely taken aback by his sudden show of affection.

  “Off.” I hear and suddenly Ethen is pulled from me. I look up and see Fitz giving him a nasty look, before turning to me. “Hey gorgeous.” Such a three sixty from the way he just spoke to Ethen.

  “Hey,” I say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  I feel a muscled arm wrap around my shoulders and I turn to see Ralph. “You ready to hear some good music?”

  I shake my head back and forth as they all burst into laughter. “I thought I was listening to you guys,” I say, causing myself to fall into a fit of laughter. As I’m bent over, I’m suddenly picked up and tossed over Fitz’s shoulder. “What the hell?” I scream and hold onto the bottom of his shirt.

  “I thought you’d need help finding a seat to listen to your new favorite band,” Fitz says, walking to the sound booth.

  He pushes through the glass doors and sits down on a leather couch, turning me to sit on his lap. “I could have found my own seat,” I say laughing as I fix my hair.

  “But this way, you’re on my lap,” he whispers in my ear. It sends chills through my body and I try to pull away, because I know I will enjoy sitting here too much. However, his hold tightens. “I want to feel your reaction, so you can either sit here on your own free will, or I’ll hold you. You’re choice.”

  I know I could fight and he’d let go, but I don’t want him to. I’m surrounded by his cologne and wrapped in his muscular arms. Fighting it would be pointless, because I want to be right here. He makes me feel good about myself and I like the attention he gives me.

  “Alright, I’ll stop fighting,” I say and chew on my lip.

  As the rest of the band starts to walk in, Fitz searches my eyes. “I wish you would,” he says, with the most serious expression I’ve seen from him yet.

  Ethen
jumps up on a chair. “Brooklyn, lesson number one starts with our debut album. Are you ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I say and they all yell, while Fitz squeezes me just a bit tighter.

  A slow beat starts and the tempo fills the small room. The music moves through me and it’s the most surreal feeling I’ve ever felt. The guys I’m sitting here with, are the same ones that I’m listening to. It sounds corny, but I feel special I get this much of their attention. They all shut up and listen right along with me, with smiles on their faces. It is so clear that they are proud of what they do and they should be. This song is great. It’s got meaning and I can make out every word Fitz sings. Song after song, it’s the same thing. I get a little background as to how they came up with the idea for it, what went into writing and recording it and I listen to it.

  When the eighth song is on Fitz moves my hair off of my shoulder and I turn my head to look at him. I’m so close, too close, to his lips. He is once again searching my face before staring into my eyes. “I can feel your body moving to the beat. You like it don’t you?” he asks, but not in a condescending way. He asks it with the hope that I do like it.

  “Between you and I,” I say and look around at the other guys before turning back to him. “I think I found my new favorite band.” I smile and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close.

  “Fuck yes, you’ve crossed over,” he yells and they all cheer with excitement, high fiving each other. “This is where you belong,” he whispers.

  I pull back and climb off his lap. This is too much, I can’t do this. I have a boyfriend. “I need to use the bathroom,” I lie.

  He simply nods and I can’t get out fast enough. I walk out of the sound booth and lean against the wall. What the fuck am I doing? I cover my face and try to catch my breath that Fitz seems to have stolen.