Mustang Player: A standalone, small town, rock star romance.

by Eva Haining

  “That might be the understatement of the century.” She wipes a sweat-soaked tendril from her face. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow like a gloriously wild halo. It’s a perfect snapshot of her personality.

  “I’ll need to write you songs more often. That sex was…”

  “Earth-shattering. Soul-destroying. Awe-inspiring. Toe-curling. Make a grown woman weep.” An effortless giggle escapes her, and if it’s possible, I fall more in love.

  “The best sex of my life, hands down, without question.”

  “It appears you’re quite the wordsmith.” My body jars at her choice of words.

  “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Because your lyrics are more beautiful than Shakespeare. Seriously, I can’t believe you wrote it about me.”

  I shirk it off, knowing it’s nothing more than a coincidence. “I do my best. That’s what I’ve been doing all week while you were hanging out with Piper. I laid down the track and had the finished, polished version for you to hear. A song comes to life when you hear it for the first time through the speakers in a recording studio. It’s a rush that never gets old.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Try. I’m intrigued.” She rolls over onto her front, resting her chin on my chest with those big, beautiful eyes locked on me.

  “After all that work, it felt too impersonal to let you hear it for the first time the way anyone would listen to it. Does that make sense? Like it was too perfect. I wanted you to really feel it, so in that moment, I thought it would be more meaningful if I played it for you. The raw, unplugged version.”

  “I love that. I can’t imagine a better way to hear it.”

  “Good. Seriously, though, back to the sex. Your eye contact with me while you orgasm might be the most amazing, humbling, sexy-as-fuck moment of my life.”

  “You were putting on one hell of a show. I didn’t want to miss even a millisecond.”

  “We’re doing that again. A lot. Jesus Christ, I thought I was going to come just from watching you.”

  There’s a flash of something in her eyes—a somber moment, however fleeting.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course. I’m sated and naked in bed with a rock star, what could possibly be wrong?”

  “You tell me. I saw it in your eyes. Talk to me.”

  “I’m just really going to miss you when you go back out on the road. I’ve been spoiled having you here all the time.” She traces slow circles on my chest, dropping her gaze. “Sorry. I know it’s exciting, and I’m so happy for you.”

  “But…”

  “I’m still a woman, and I worry you’ll be out there with women throwing themselves at you left and right.”

  “Look at me, Ellie.” I wait until she lifts her eyes to meet mine. “It doesn’t matter. There’s something every fangirl in the world is lacking.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They’re not you. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “You have to say that.”

  “No, I don’t. If you haven’t noticed, I’m generally a no-fucks-given kind of guy. That’s not a new personality trait. I don’t say the right thing at the right time. I fuck up in a lot of ways, and I’ve built myself up from a broken mess to being a guy worthy of loving you. I’m not going to jeopardize what we have for some random chick who wants to live out her bad-boy fantasy with a rock star.”

  “You say that now, but what about six weeks from now when you’re tired and horny and a pretty girl wants to stroke your ego?”

  “Ellie, you know me better than that. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ve always been honest with you, and I value that more than anything. I love you, and I plan on being in your life for as long as you’ll have me.”

  “Ugh. I don’t like being the sad girl begging my boyfriend to love me.”

  “You’re not. It’s a lot. We’ve had this amazing time together, and now things are going to change a little. It’s okay to be apprehensive, but I need you to know, there’s only you.”

  “Okay.”

  I trail my fingers down her spine, enchanted by her beauty. How she could ever think a groupie could hold a candle to her is beyond me. Ellie is the breath of fresh air I so desperately needed in my life when I came to K Falls. I have no intention of letting her slip through my fingers.

  “I’m in a really good place right now, Ellie. I am strong, and I can do this. For myself and for us. It doesn’t matter where I go or who I meet, I’ll always come back to you.”

  “I think it’s time to watch a movie, or I’ll start crying.”

  “You’re allowed to show emotion, Ellie. You can’t be a rock all the time. Eventually, you’ll have to let me take over sometimes. I’ll be your rock. You can talk to me.”

  “That works two ways. You can tell me anything, Johnny.”

  “It’s different. You’re a therapist. There are things about me I don’t even fully understand yet, and I’m not ready to show you the darkest recesses of my soul. Can you respect that? It doesn’t mean I love you any less or I don’t trust you. I just need to work through this on my own if I want to stay clean long-term. It’s hard enough for me to believe someone as amazing as you can love me, I’m not ready to be that vulnerable.”

  There’s a warmth to her gaze that speaks to my soul. I know she loves me and accepts the man I am now. But I’ve not always been this person, and the guy I was, even just a year ago, is someone Ellie wouldn’t look at twice.

  “I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk to me or share information. I just want you to know that no matter what you tell me, I’ll still love you.”

  “I like the movie idea. If I start crying, I’ll lose all street cred.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but that was lost the day you said ‘y’all’ for the first time and then took me on a date with a houseful of kids watching Mulan.”

  “Well, shit. I guess I can’t argue with that.” I slide out from beneath the sheets and grab my clothes, all the while enchanted by the sight of Ellie laid bare with the bedsheets pooled around her waist.

  “What? You’re looking at me funny. Do I have a Something About Mary moment going on?”

  “My sperm’s good, but it’s not that good. I made sure every last drop spilled deep inside you.”

  “If you don’t stop saying stuff like that, there will be no movie watching tonight or any night. I’ll pack up my worldly possessions and follow you to the ends of the earth like the pathetic groupie I am.”

  “I love every damn thing about you, Ellie Sawyer.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” I take a deep, steadying breath in awe of this woman.

  “Come on, I’ll get the movie set up.”

  “Do I have to get dressed?” She scrunches her nose in distaste. It’s so fricking cute.

  “I’d prefer you didn’t,” I say with a sly grin.

  She shuffles to the edge of the bed, tugging the bedsheet free and wrapping it around her soft curves. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

  We head for the living room and Ellie’s seventy-five-inch television. Time to share my favorite movie with the woman of my dreams. If only I had a DeLorean—I’d go back a few years, avoid becoming an addict, and find Ellie sooner. I suppose everything happens for a reason, and the path I’ve taken led us to each other.

  “You set up the movie, and I’ll go in search of snacks.”

  “You’ve got the remote, genius.” She’s breathtaking when she’s all disheveled and sex mussed.

  I hold the remote up high, just out of her reach. “You’re going to have to drop the sheet if you want to get it. You can’t crawl up me like a spider monkey and keep hold of your modesty.”

  She reaches up, letting the sheet drop to the floor, catching me off guard, and I stumble, unable to take my eyes off her smoking hot body. The back of my knee catches on one of her end tables, and there’s nothi
ng for me to grab onto and steady myself. Falling backward, I take the table with me and its contents. Papers scatter all over the living room floor, raining down like confetti. Ellie tries to help me up, but I pull her down on top of me, taking advantage of the chance to have her naked and straddling me.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “Just my pride, sweetheart. I’m fine. Better than fine.” I roll over with her in my arms, switching places. Now, she’s naked beneath me, and any prospect of a quiet movie marathon is gone. I’m ready to sink balls deep inside her once more.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes, Johnny. Lose them.” Her playful grin is all the encouragement I need. As I wrestle with my jeans, my knee slips on some of the loose papers. It’s only then that I realize what I’ve strewn all over her floor. It’s her patient files.

  “Shit. Let me clean this up first. You don’t need my naked ass print on your work files.” Her laugh is delicate like a wind chime, soothing and melodic.

  “It would brighten my day if I came across your cheek print.”

  “That may be so, but…” I gather a pile of papers and shuffle them into some semblance of order. I’m not trying to read them, but there’s one heading that leaps off the page, grabs me by the throat, and squeezes until I can’t breathe.

  “Are you okay? You look pale. Leave that stuff. I can clean it up later.” Her gaze is tender, maybe even loving, but that’s why it hurts all the more. “Johnny, talk to me. Can I get you a drink of water or something?”

  “No. You can tell me what the fuck you’re doing with my file.” Every nerve ending in my body is screaming in searing agony. How could she do this to me?

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How many seedy strings did you pull to get the transcripts of my therapy sessions?” She seems puzzled by my accusation. I guess she’s a good actress. She’s been telling me for months that she has no judgment of me and my past. Obviously, she knows far more about me than I could ever have imagined.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  As I study the pages, I read my own words, there in black and white—vulnerable and now abused by the one person I thought I could trust more than anyone.

  “Who gave you these?” I wave a stack of papers in her face before shoving them into her hand. “My fucking therapy sessions.”

  She scrambles for the bedsheet she’d left on the floor, covering her naked flesh before reading the pages that are breaking my heart. How ironic that she’d want to cover herself against vulnerability when her actions have unwittingly left me emotionally naked without a blanket to cover my shame.

  Scanning the pages, she looks to me, bewildered, with tears welling in her eyes. “These are just notes for my online therapy practice. They’re not yours, Johnny. I’d never use my position to betray you. Never.”

  “Bullshit. JBG Anon.” Her eyes go wild as saucers. “Johnny. Be. Good.”

  “It can’t be. I’ve been treating that patient for a long time now.”

  “Yeah, around nine months.”

  “There must be some mix-up. You told me your therapist is a man.”

  “I don’t know for sure. That’s just how I saw him. You. He told me to call him Dr. Elliot. I don’t know his first name, but I guess that’s because you fucking made it up. It’s been you this whole time? How could you lie to me?”

  “Dr. Elliot. Oh my, God. Johnny. I had no idea. My online therapy practice is truly anonymous. I have a third party who deals with insurance and patient details. All I know is their usernames. My name is Elliot Sawyer. Ellie for short.”

  “It’s been you this whole time.” My world begins to spin on its axis, out of control, making me so dizzy I’m about to throw up.

  “Johnny, I… I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I promise I didn’t betray you. I would never do that. If I’d known it was you, I’d have stopped all of this…” she gestures between us, “… before it even began.”

  “Yeah, because you know the depths of my depravity. You know exactly how fucked up I am. If you’d realized, you would never have let yourself want me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Face it, you know too much now.”

  She flips through the loose papers that document the life and fuck-ups of Johnny Reed, tears welling in her eyes. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you, Johnny.” When she reaches out to caress my cheek like she’s done a thousand times, I can’t bear it, shirking her touch.

  “It changes everything, Ellie.”

  “Only if we let it.” A single tear spills over her eyelashes, trickling down her cheek. It pains me more than I could ever express, but I can’t just pretend like none of this matters.

  “The damage is done. I can’t do this, Ellie.” I get to my feet and fix my half-dressed demeanor. “I have to go.”

  “Please, Johnny, don’t go. Stay and talk to me. We need to talk about this. You have to believe me. I would never abuse the patient-doctor relationship. Not knowingly.”

  “You warned me from the start that I wasn’t ready. I should’ve waited that first year before starting something, and I knew that you being a shrink complicated matters. I just didn’t listen. I wanted you too much. I told myself I could handle it.”

  “Johnny… please, tell me you believe me. I’d never knowingly hurt you like this. I love you more than life itself.”

  I can’t even look at her. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Of course, it does. We can work through this. It’s a mistake of circumstance. We can get past it.”

  “No, we can’t.” My heart fractures with every memory of sessions with Dr. Elliot, knowing the things I’ve told her. “I believe you. I don’t think your sweet heart is capable of such deception, but…”

  “No, don’t say ‘but.’ We can figure it out.”

  “I can’t. You know too much.”

  “Please, Johnny.”

  “I need time.” She stares up at me with those beautiful big eyes of hers, but they look different to me now.

  “I love you.”

  My lips crash down on hers in an anguished plea. I need her to let me go. Pouring every ounce of love and pain that’s warring inside me, I taste her one last time. “I love you too.”

  I grab my wallet and keys and head for the door. I can’t look back because I know I’ll cave. If I don’t walk away now, she’ll tell me everything is okay, but as she thinks back over countless sessions and confessions from JBG Anon, she’ll see the real me, and the façade she fell in love with will unravel before her eyes.

  If I stay, I’ll tear myself apart trying to be anything but her patient, and it’ll probably kill me in the process.

  “Don’t go, Johnny!” She tries to run after me, but she’s too tangled up in the bedsheet that covers her body. “Please, don’t leave. I’m begging you.”

  A dagger of regret thrusts into my heart, ripping it wide open. It may not have been intentional, but that doesn’t change the outcome. I can’t even bear to look at her, knowing what she knows now. “Goodbye, Ellie.”

  Seventeen

  Johnny

  I can’t go home. I can’t go to a bar. I can’t go back inside and watch as realization dawns. Ellie will already be pouring over the pages of our sessions, joining the dots, seeing everything through a different lens.

  I just start walking, unsure where my feet are taking me until I see the house on the horizon. The calm sound of the babbling brook that runs behind Jax’s home seems to taunt me as my torturous soul screams for relief, the quiet calm of nature a stark juxtaposition to the storm raging inside me.

  I bang on the door, desperation forcing my fist to rap so hard on the solid oak my knuckles turn red. It’s late, but I’m oblivious to the time until Jax appears at the door in his underwear, half asleep.

  “Jesus Christ, Johnny, it’s two in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? You’ll wake the kids with that racket.”

 
“I’m sorry.” My thoughts are fractured—jumbled—racing so fast I can barely keep up. “I’ll go. I don’t even know why I ended up here.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. Come in.” He ushers me inside. “I’m going to go throw some sweats on. Make yourself at home. Quietly.”

  I take a seat on the couch, resting my elbows on my thighs, cradling my head in my hands. How could this happen? Why is the universe such a cruel fucking taskmaster? All I wanted to do was get my life together and have what everyone else has. Why does it have to be so fucking hard?

  I notice the light of the refrigerator before I realize Jax is back. Handing me a bottle of water, he takes a seat across from me. “What’s going on, brother?”

  “It’s all going wrong. I fucked up. It’s fucked up. Ellie and I are done.”

  “What? Take a breath. I have to ask because it’s the middle of the night, and you’re not making any sense. Are you high?” There’s no ire or judgment in his voice, and as I lift my eyes to meet his, all I see is concern etched in the firm set of his brow.

  “No, I’m not high… but I want to be. I couldn’t go home, Jax. I don’t trust myself not to go and score some coke or pills or anything as long as it stops my brain from racing.”

  It’s the first time I’ve seen Jax concerned about anything. He’s such an easy-going guy, so I know I sound as crazed and out of control as I feel.

  “Slow down. Talk to me. You haven’t scored. You came here, so tell me what’s going on. What happened? You said you and Ellie are done. Why?”

  I scrape my hand over the scruff on my jaw, still in shock about everything that has transpired in the past few hours. “She’s my therapist.”

  “What?”

  “She’s my online, fucking-anonymous-therapist. I didn’t know it was her. She says she didn’t know it was me. I started before we met, but it’s her. My Dr. Elliot is Ellie.”

  “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “I knocked a whole bunch of her files off a table tonight. When I gathered them up, I saw the transcripts of my sessions.”