“Bloody hell!” Dizzy exclaimed as soon as the door closed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s like we’re back in high school.”
“She’s violating our rights. I can’t believe you agreed to that!” King protested vehemently. He didn’t do the hard shit any more. None of us did not after what Lace went through. But he did still fire up an occasional joint. Less since he buffed up because they gave him the munchies for junk food. But still.
“How we gonna write music sober?” King opened the fridge door. “There’s only two fucking six packs of Molson,” he advised us.
“Welcome to Timmon’s version of Disneyworld,” Bryan complained.
“We wrote most of our first album sober,” I remembered, grabbed a bottle of beer and twisted the top open.
“Yeah, but only because we couldn’t afford nada back then.” King held one of the pizza boxes open for everyone to choose a slice before he snagged two for himself. Resuming his seat on the couch, he stacked his two on top of each other and took a huge bite of the pizza sandwich.
“You’re right.” Dizzy flopped on the couch beside me food in one hand, beer in the other. Apparently, none of us were going to bother with plates. “Except for War. He was high as a kite when he penned ‘Hateful Bitch’ after Lace and Martin...”
“No need to relive that ancient history,” Bryan interrupted with a frown. He got a beer and propped his socked feet up on the coffee table. After that there wasn’t a lot of talking just chewing as we quickly polished off the pizza and all but one beer.
“Anyone want the last one?” King asked, holding a green bottle up in the air. Everyone shook their head. With full stomachs and beer, I think we were all starting to feel a little mellow.
“Timmons is a total dictator, but she’s right about one thing. This,” War made eye contact with each of us while pulling his hair back into a short ponytail, “you guys, us together, this is what’s important. This is where it all started. What we need to get back to. What we set out to do. Not be a fuckin’ copycat of any other bullshit band, but to be ourselves. Take it or leave it Tempest.” He pulled in a breath. I would have smiled. This was the long winded Warren Jinkins we were all accustomed to hearing. The others leaned in, all of us interested in hearing what Warren had to say. His vision for the band. It was what we had been lacking with Justin.
“You’re right,” I interrupted, and everyone turned to look at me. “That’s it absolutely.” I didn’t usually chime in unless I had something to add, but this was something that should have been said a long time ago. “We all lost track of that on the last tour. But War, what did you think was going to happen when you were shoving sales figures and album rankings at us every single day?” Our lead singer stilled. Yeah, that was an intentional dig. “Just keeping it real, right? Otherwise we’re wasting our time.” I gave him a firm nod. “We need to have complete honesty going forward, or we need to just pack up our shit and go home.”
There were nods all around. War nodded last. I took that as approval to get some more things off my chest. “When we got together in Dizzy’s uncle’s garage all those years ago it was about us and the music. We hoped for success, sure. But we never expected it as our due, and it was never about sales figures or the charts.”
“Right on, mi hermano.” King lifted his beer, took a swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What we expected, what we wanted to do was to get in people’s faces,” I clarified. “Shake things up. Tell them who we are.”
“A bunch of rejects from Southside,” Dizzy said.
“Rejects who refuse to give up.” Bryan lifted his chin.
“Who never give up on each other. Only I did.” War’s gaze darkened, the seriousness of his expression matching his tone. “I fuckin’ nearly completely ruined this band singlehandedly.” There was silence, nothing but the sound of the fizz from War’s beer and the carriage house heater kicking on. “But I’ve done a lot of growing up since then. Rough stuff has a way of making you realize what’s important. Who I was then ain’t who I am now.”
“That’s true for me, for sure,” Dizzy confided quietly. “Because of April.”
“We’ve all done a lot of evolving as a band and as human beings,” Bryan agreed.
“So what’s next? We gonna settle in and crank out some new songs for the Queen or what?” King set his empty beer on the coffee table and looked at War. We all did.
“Selective compliance.” Our lead singer’s lips formed a grin, his eyes glittering with the rebellious attitude we all identified with. “Tempest ain’t ever fuckin’ backing down to anyone or diluting our message ever again. Like Sage said. We’ll give ’em stripped down and wicked Southside tunes with just a tiny hint of something good every now and then to keep ’em off balance. Leave our mark. Be as popular as we can be but on our fuckin’ terms. Angry as hell sure, but not at each other anymore. Anger as a voice. For the five of us. For the world to pay attention, to finally fuckin’ hear what we’ve got to say.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Melinda
I came out of the shower determined to move on from Sager, convinced that in the long run his friendship proposal would end poorly for me. But then I picked up my cell. One drip from my wet hair and then another spattered on the display as I read the text messages.
Sager: How did your day go?
Sager: Hey, Bluebelle.
Sager: Why aren’t you reading my messages?
Sager: Are you ok?
Sager: Listen, if I don’t hear from you in the next 5 minutes I’m coming out there to check on you.
I swiped a thumb through the puddle on my screen. The last message was timed four minutes earlier.
Sitting on the bed, heart rate kicking up in anticipation of hearing his voice, I dialed his number. He answered before it finished ringing. My heart fluttered.
“Melinda, what the hell? Is everything ok?
“I’m fine.” Too bad he couldn’t see my huge grin. “It’s only been 20 minutes since you started texting me. I was in the shower.”
“Oh.” He was quiet a moment. I heard rustling in the background as if he were on his bed getting comfortable. “Are you still naked?”
A full head to toe flush. “No. I have on a towel.” My reply sounded breathy.
He said something low like a plea.
“Is your skin still all wet?”
I was wet alright, from the sound of his husky voice in my ear.
“Yes. My hair’s dripping all over my phone.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you from drying off. Put the phone on speaker, turn the camera around...and hit the FaceTime button,” he added.
“Um, no.” I laughed. “I wouldn’t take my clothes off for the last modeling thing. What makes you think I’ll strip for you?”
“Because I’ve seen you naked before. And because I would cherish even a single glimpse of that beautiful body.”
I gulped. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s the fucking truth.”
My face grew hot. I was flushed from his praise.
“Because it’s not something a friend would say,” I whispered.
“Maybe we should be more than friends.”
I stared at the beige carpet beneath my feet. He couldn’t possibly know how much I wanted that, tempted so tempted to be his again, even if only for a little while.
“I’m not taking off my towel,” I redirected, attempting to inject my voice with a carefree tone.
“What’s going on with you? How did your day go?” I paused to turn the tables on him. “What are you wearing right now?”
• • •
Sager
I felt more disappointed than I should have that she shot down my proposal. “Just jeans and a t-shirt and the rosary Abuelita gave me.” I rubbed the beads on the necklace reflexively. Maybe if I said a little prayer she would reconsider my offer. Just a quick heavenward plea like the one I had muttered whe
n she told me she was naked except for the towel.
“I noticed you wearing it the other day. It’s beautiful. Did she give it to you the last time you were home?”
“Yeah. I think she hopes it will help me remember my upbringing.” Which it did. “And maybe keep King and me out of trouble.”
“How’s that working?”
“Hard to say.” I wasn’t sure if trying to seduce Melinda back into my bed constituted staying out of trouble. “I am remembering my upbringing.”
She giggled. “Fair enough. But you haven’t answered my other questions.”
“You didn’t really answer mine,” I countered.
“Sager,” she complained.
“Ok. Alright.” It wasn’t ok not yet. But I wasn’t going to let up and if I could make her laugh, I was getting closer to where I wanted us to be. I had to try to be patient a little bit longer. “What was the question? I can’t think straight. My mind,” and my cock, “is fixated on the thought of you in that towel. Why don’t you just take it off?”
“I...”
“No, really. Just to…you know…put on a robe or some sexy lingerie. Whichever way you want to go. Your choice. I just don’t want you to catch a cold. I’m looking out for you...friend.”
“Ok. I’m putting you on speaker. You tell me about your day, and I’ll get some clothes on.”
“Sexy clothes? Please say yes. And please accidentally hit the camera button.” I put my cell phone on speaker, too while making my litany of pleas.
“You really want all the details?” she teased.
“Hell, yeah.” I thought quickly. “How about an exchange? You tell me about what you’re doing and what you’re wearing.” I reached down and adjusted myself. The head of my cock was peeking out of the top of my boxers. I was already hard just talking to her and imagining her taking off that towel. “And I’ll tell you about my day.”
“I dunno.” Her tone remained teasing. “Doesn’t sound like an even exchange to me. I mean maybe if your day started out with something really interesting perhaps waking up with your cock so hard you couldn’t take it. Maybe if you told me you had to tug down your boxers, grab yourself by the root and stroke...”
I groaned. I had already done everything she mentioned and already had precum on my hands.
“You’re touching yourself while you’re talking to me aren’t you?” she asked.
“You are too, aren’t you?” I guessed.
“Maybe.” Her voice sounded funny. A pause. My rod jumped in my hand. “Melinda.” I prompted in an authoritative tone.
“Yes.”
Oh sweet mother of... Sorry Abuelita. “Where are your hands? Tell me.” I demanded. “Mine’s around my cock.
“I’m touching my breasts.” A movement. A click. She had locked her door. Mine wasn’t locked, but I didn’t fucking care.
“Pluck those nipples to get them hard as my cock. Then stroke your thumbs across the tips softly.”
“Ok.” I heard her gasp.
I pumped my cock harder.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Using my imagination.” Wishing I were deep inside of you. “Got my fingers wrapped tight around myself. I’m so fucking turned on.” I couldn’t ever remember being so aroused by just talking to someone. Just the thought of her had my heart beating so hard it was about to explode.
“Me, too.”
“Good, Blue. You are so fucking good. But you could do better.”
“How?”
“Lie down on the bed. Imagine me watching you. Remember how it was when I was inside of you. Cup you palm over your pussy.”
“I already am.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer.”
“That’s what you said then.”
“Yes I did.” She remembered. Good. I couldn’t fucking forget. “You make me crazy. You know that right? From the first time I saw you, I wanted to have you.”
“Oh, Sager.” She panted.
“Find your clit. I bet it’s swollen and wet.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Yes. It is. It’s so taut and slick. So sensitive.” I could hear her rapid breaths and imagined her thumb touching her clit every time she inhaled sharply. She was close, too.
“Strum it faster. Like I would if I were there.”
“What would you say to me if you were?”
“The same thing I would say now. That you’re beautiful. How lucky I was to see you, to touch you, to be with you.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh.”
“Don’t, Blue, not yet. Flip over. On your belly. Put that perfect wet pussy on your palm. And grind on it, babe as if you were riding me. Think about taking my cock deep inside you.”
I heard it. Her release. So pretty. I pumped harder and then it hit me, too. I shuddered and groaned warmth erupting from me, but wishing I were with her, wishing I could have marked her in the most primitive way as my own.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Melinda
Skis gliding over the snow pack the next morning, I knew my flushed cheeks had less to do with the cold wind on the course and more to do with the mental replay from the night before with Sager.
Friends?
Um, no. That line had been completely crossed and left behind in the distance. Only my roommate banging on the door demanding to know when I was going to fork over my half of the rent put a cabash on a round two. The interruption also provided a convenient excuse to delay the awkward conversation that I knew he and I were going to have. We couldn’t pretend that last night didn’t happen. I remembered Sager’s ultimatum after the time we had slept together. He had told me to get my shit straightened out with Dizzy, or there wouldn’t be a second time. Well, Dizzy was out of the picture, and now there had been a next time. Yes, phone sex counted. Sager wanted me, even after all my missteps. I wanted him, too, obviously. But he wasn’t just any ordinary guy. Sex meant something to him. He wouldn’t want anyone else in the picture. Not that I would be interested if I were his. Tyler would have to go. After that we would just have to see. With Sager, my heart tripped over all kinds of impossible ideas.
I slid across the finish line at the end of the course, turned sideways and kicked up a spray of snow. Pulling my goggles away from my eyes, I rested them on top of my helmet squinting up at the bright sky as if the courage I needed were going to drift down to me on a parachute. Unlikely. Just as unlikely as the tiny chance that this thing with Sager would last any longer than it had the last time…because nothing had really changed. He was still who he was, and I was still me. I could never be the long term answer Sager deserved.
But until that woman came along I could be the one he was with.
When it came to him I was willing to take whatever I could get. Even just one more night. I jonesed for that next time like an addict after a fix. I’d never had it in me to resist him. Pointing my skis toward the lifts for another run, I pulled my goggles back over my eyes and blinders over my heart.
• • •
Sager
The carriage house lay silent, the sun rising over the top of the trees as I moved away from the window, set up my iPhone tap tempo tuner and plugged in my bass. After the night I’d had with Melinda, I was jazzed and ready to make some music.
Head down, my hair fell in to my eyes and my mind wandered in another world that revolved around her. So far gone I didn’t even notice at first the really cool drum beat accompanying me. When it finally registered, I played off of it for a bit before turning around and acknowledging King.
“Morning.”
“Buenos días. Nice groove, pendejo. Why are you up so early?”
I shrugged. I didn’t want to get into it with him about her. I wanted to stay up in the clouds. Reality would ground me soon enough. I expected some turbulence when I spelled things out for her. How things were going to be with us moving forward. I wasn’t putting up with any more bullshit. Nobody and nothing w
as going to come between us anymore.
“I like what you’ve got so far.” King crossed his sticks over his thigh and leaned forward. “But it seems a little slow. Pick up the tempo. Let’s do it again.”
“Alright.” Facing him, my Fender slung low across my hips, I rested my weight back on my heels and played the bass line again, only faster. He listened for a moment, nodded a couple of times and started in with his snare. A tempting melody emerged in my mind that had me closing my eyes, rocking my hips and improvising a bit. He was with me all the way as if we had played it hundreds of times. In a lot of ways we had. King was the upbeat. I was the down. In rhythm with each other since the day we first met.
“Órale,” King announced after we finished.
I nodded in agreement.
“You buying all that shit War was selling last night.” He moved his sticks to one hand. “About the band?”
“Yeah, totally.”
“Me, too. Only a lot could fuck it up. Like some nookie girl.”
“King,” I warned, my eyes narrowing to slits. “Don’t.
“Don’t what?” His expression hardened. “Don’t be truthful? Don’t be a real friend? I told you that chick’s trouble…”
“You did. I heard you loud and clear. But now it’s your turn to listen to me. She means something to me, Juaquin.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. I waited for him to open them and look at me again before I continued. I wanted him to see the resolution in my gaze. “She does. You gotta accept it. I don’t want your mistrust of her to come between you and me.”
“And you’re saying it could? Seriously? After all we’ve been through? All the times we’ve had each other’s backs. Does she have any fucking clue who you really are, mi hermano?”
“She knows all about my fucked up past. She even knows about Jude.”
The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 136
