by Mj Fields
“That’s how it should be,” I agree.
“For me, that’s how it will be.”
My chest tightens with the realization that I want the same damn thing. I want the woman I lay with at night to be my best friend, my partner in life, my fucking everything, but still be able to do what I love.
“Kendall?”
“Ben?”
“What if that one man fucked up as a kid and did something stupid, almost unforgivable?”
“Like what? Kill someone?”
“No, like briefly date your sister?”
Silence.
“I’m not willing to ignore the connection we shared at the bar, the fact that your hand felt perfect in mine, the fact that, instead of getting laid, I’m lying on a hard as hell floor in pink sweats when I could get a cab and be lying in my bed at my loft a few blocks away, or the fact that I’d ignore the stiffening of my cock and the need to fuck in exchange for more time to explore this thing with you and me.”
She’s silent.
“Is it because of Tessa?”
“Well …” She chuckles.
“Well nothing, because the woman I give my heart to is going to have to accept the fact that I have a past. She’s going to have to be my best friend. And although I want her to do whatever the hell makes her happy, I’m hoping she’s gonna wanna do the majority of those things with me.”
“I’m sure she will, Ben.”
“Good to know, little Ross. Sleep well.”
I sure won’t, I think to myself.
I wake up to the sound of a sink running and a stiff as fuck back.
Sitting up, I look down and think, Shit.
“Kendall?”
“Yeah?” she says then spits what I assume is toothpaste into the sink.
“I have massive morning wood and need to piss, so either look away or feel free to check it out in advance, but I’m coming in that bathroom with tented pink sweats.”
She doesn’t even look away when I stand at the toilet and begin to piss.
“You good with this?” I laugh.
“I have two brothers, Ben. This doesn’t even faze me.”
After I piss and flush the toilet, I turn around and watch her rub some lotion on her face. Dirty thoughts about facials filter through my brain as I try my best to keep them pure.
I step closer, reach my arms around her, and wash my hands, smiling at her as I do so. She shakes her head and smiles back.
“We look good together, Ross,” I say as I turn off the sink. “Best-looking couple I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re insa—”
She stops talking when I rest my hands on her hips and kiss the top of her head. “And you smell so much better than you did last time you and I were in here.”
She elbows me as she laughs.
“What do you say?”
“We do look good.” She shrugs. “But I have just about as much interest in dating a budding rock star as I do dating a professional athlete or any of my sister's exes.”
I step back, hands over my heart, hiss, and then whisper, “Ouch.”
She turns and looks at me. “Last night was a fog, but I’m pretty sure I told you I’m not looking for anything, and I also told you—”
“Don’t you miss being held, Kendall?” I reach out and grip her hips, pulling her toward me. “Kissed?” As I lean in, she scrunches her eyes closed. Then I brush my lips across hers. When I step back, she looks confused. “You don’t get a real one until you give in to exploring this.” I motion between us. “And I won’t even try to get into your panties until I know damn well I’m enough for a girl like you.”
She looks down, nibbling on her lower lip.
“I’m going to get changed. I have some shit to do. When do you finish up with your tour group today?”
“Um, like nine?” She peeks up at me.
“You like Sinéad O’Connor?”
“Um, yeah!” She grins.
“Good. I’ll come by at 9:15 to grab you.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Kendall, it’s a date.”
She clenches her eyes closed and nods.
I step toward her again, lift her chin, and her eyes spring open. I see exactly what I need to see—want. But I give her exactly what I know she needs—a quick kiss to the forehead. Then I step back, turn around, and grab my clothes.
I swear I feel her eyes on me as I change, so I deliberately take my time, allowing her to check out what I’ve been told is the best ass in the world.
After I’m dressed, I grab her cell phone. “I’m adding my contact information. You need me before I pick you up, call.” That done, I set it down and grab my own phone, keys, and wallet.
I stop before her and kiss her cheek. “Tonight, you can build a fort between us, but I’m getting at least half the bed.”
“That’s pretty presumptuous,” she says, but the smile in her voice gives away her true feelings.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman until I can’t be anymore. The first time, I’ll ask permission. Once it’s given, I don’t promise to be a gentleman, but I do promise you won’t regret a damn thing, little Ross.”
She walks me to the door and, as I step out into the hall, she stops me.
“Ben?”
I turn back. “Kendall?”
“Do me a favor?”
“After our first date, I’ll do you several.”
She shakes her head but with a smirk.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I wink. “The favor?”
“I’m going to be late, so you can’t come back in here, okay?”
I nod.
“Look through your mom’s social media posts. There’s a picture of that time you said you believed in fairytales—”
“None of that means shit, Kendall,” I cut her off. “What does mean shit is what happened on the stage and what’s been happening since.”
“Will you just look at it?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Nope. Not—”
“If you don’t, I’m not going tonight.” Then the little beauty shuts the door in my face.
7
In God’s Country
Ben
Standing outside the hotel, I wait impatiently for Kendall to appear. Umbrella in one hand, a dozen pink roses in the other and feeling a little nervous, I pace back and forth in front of the hotel.
When she walks out in a pale pink dress under a black rain jacket and black boots, I can’t stop myself from looking her over very slowly.
She shakes her head and looks down, smiling.
I clear the four foot distance between us as I tuck the roses under my arm and grip the back of her head, pulling her in and kissing her forehead. Stepping back, I then hand her the roses. “No need to be careful with these ones. I made sure the thorns were gone.”
She takes them and holds them under her nose to inhale. “Thank you, Ben.”
I hold out my hand for her, and as she reaches for it, she stops and starts laughing.
I hold up my hand, fingers all covered in Band-Aids. “Not afraid to pick a few thorns off the roses, Kendall. And if I remember correctly, I told you to be careful, not me.”
“Well, you should be.” She grins.
“No way in hell.” I take her hand in mine and kiss the back of it.
We walk quietly down the sidewalk, hand in hand, rain trickling down around us.
“It was you.”
She nudges me. “You don’t believe in fairy tales.”
“I do now.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna take a chance and guess it’s going to be a happily ever after.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t do that.”
In the distance, lightning lights up the sky. Moments later, thunder crashes around us.
I look over at her as she bites her lower lip, trying not to smile.
As rain begins to pour down around us, I hurry to a storefront with
an awning and pull her under it. Then I close the umbrella and lean it against the shingled siding. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
She looks nervous as she swallows hard and licks her lips.
“I’ll be gentle.” Cupping her face, I rub my lips across hers and whisper, “This time.”
Kendall
My heart is racing. It’s beating even harder against my chest than it has been all day while wondering if he would even realize it was me who he had pulled the thorn from, not Tessa. Beating harder than it was when I was getting ready for a date with Ben Sawyer.
Closing my eyes, I inhale the scent of roses, the smell of the rain, and the smell of him. Earthy and a light cologne that reminds me of Alex’s favorite scent, Drakkar Noir. Familiar but unfamiliar.
He presses his lips harder against mine, slightly opened, and I follow his lead. When he then swipes his tongue slowly across them, I press mine against his, and his chest vibrates against mine. He tilts my head up as he rubs his tongue against mine, and I whimper.
He continues rubbing his tongue up and down mine, and I open my mouth farther, wanting and needing him to continue, tilting my head back so he can lick deeper.
Then, something happens, something that has never happened. Nerves are replaced by a heat, a feeling inside that almost makes me dizzy.
He licks inside my mouth while holding my head still. I realize my hand—the one not holding the flowers—is gripping his hip and pulling him closer to me.
He groans and removes his tongue from my mouth, pressing his lips against mine. “Sweet thing, Christ.”
When he steps back and presses his forehead to mine, I open my eyes and try to focus on his beautiful brown ones.
“You wanna keep this PG, we need a breather.”
I push up on my toes and kiss him.
Lips against mine, he chuckles. “We have plenty of time.”
“Mmmhmm,” I say against his lips.
He steps back and licks his full red lips slowly while looking at me. “You taste damn good.”
“So do you.”
He searches between my eyes then smiles softly. “That moment back then was a sign.”
I shake my head. “Do you really believe in signs?”
He nods.
“I don’t.”
Thunder crashes, streetlights flicker, and then the entire street goes black.
Ben pulls me into a hug. “I’m thinking you may want to start.”
Ben
In the back of a cab, we are hands on face, lips on lips, eyes on eyes. Who would have thought kissing could be so fucking hot? It was always a prequel to being inside something warm and wet. Knowing there wasn’t shit gonna happen for what I’m feeling is gonna be the long haul, I’ll make damn sure this is enough to keep me on her mind at all times. If that means I have to—no, fuck that—get to kiss her all the damn time, that’s what I’ll do.
When we arrive at Vicar Street Theatre, it’s still completely dark, but I hear music when I step out of the cab.
She peeks out. “Is that music?”
I take her hand and pull her out. “Yeah. Let’s go check it out.”
From behind, I wrap her arms around my waist. “Hold tight.”
I would have put her in front of me, but the chances of me popping wood is one hundred percent, and I don’t want the kissing to stop.
Once inside the packed theatre, lit by candles and a few flashlights, I decide she needs to be in front of me and pull her around. “Stay close.”
We make our way to the balcony stairs and climb them together.
“Not a lot of people up here,” she yells from over her shoulder.
“They’re missing out,” I tell her. “Best view in the house.”
She looks over the railing and laughs. “I can hardly see a thing.”
“I’m talking about you.”
She nudges me with her shoulder then leans against me. That one move erasing some of the worry that it was going to take a hell of a long time to get to a point where she would be comfortable enough to let go of any reserves she has about us, especially in regard to my brief relationship with her sister.
A loud whistle and a strum of an acoustic guitar silences the darkened room.
“We should be exitin’ this place due to circumstance, but since you all came out to see me tonight, I’m gonna do a couple of numbers before we get shut down.”
Kendall looks back at me, and I wonder if she’s figured out that we aren’t seeing Sinéad.
When the unmistakable words of one of The Cranberries biggest hits, sang by the unambiguous voice of Dolores O’Riordan, begins, Kendall squeals and starts bouncing up and down as she claps then turns to me. “I freaking love her!”
“I know.” I laugh. “Saw it on your social media account.”
She gives me a peck on the cheek then turns back around, lifts her arms in the air, and I can hear her sing along. “Then I open up and see the person falling here is me, a different way to be …” Her voice is sweeter than Dolores’s, but beautiful and multilayered just the same.
“My girl can mix,” I yell in her ear.
She looks briefly embarrassed, then says, “Your girl, huh?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I squeeze her hips.
“I’ll tell you to slow down and hush up. My maybe guy surprised me with THE freaking Cranberries!”
After “Dreams” and “Linger” play, I notice more flashlights on the lower floor and watch as people are being ushered out during “Ode to Family.”
Kendall doesn’t see a damn thing, caught up in the music and the moment. I want to keep her here as long as I can.
I’ve played hundreds of shows, been on hundreds of stages, witnessed thousands of people get caught up in the music, but never like those of us on stage, not until that night, not until Kendall. Fucking beautiful.
When the song stops abruptly, she looks back at me. “Are we getting booted?”
I nod down toward the dance floor, and she looks over the railing.
“Well, I guess that’s it then.” She shrugs.
Hand in hand, we walk down the stairs and across the floor toward the exit.
Outside, the streets are crowded and getting rowdy, and there isn’t a cab to be found.
I hold Kendall in front of me again as I walk us through the crowd.
“Getting wild out here. My flat is two blocks away. Come home with me?”
“I’m not sure that’s a—” She jumps at the sound of glass breaking, followed by loud curses as a fight breaks out behind us. “Okay.”
The closer we get to my place, the more anxious I become.
“Not normal to lose electricity around here, not like in the States. We need to step it up.” I walk around her and squat. “Hop on.”
“Oh please,” she huffs, “I can keep up with you any day of the week.”
Another fight breaks out, this one in the middle of the street.
“Get on my back, Kendall.”
She does.
She’s light as hell, and I’m not gonna lie when I say her tits bouncing against my back isn’t fucking amazing, but these fools are out of control, so instead of taking a leisurely pace, I step it up and try to focus more on getting back to my place and less on Kendall’s tits against my back.
I slide her off my back then pull my key out of my pocket, unlocking the door and holding it open for her. Murphey’s is a hardware store, and the floor above is my flat.
“It’s dark.”
“I got you,” I tell her as I wrap my arms tight around her.
“Easy, tiger,” she says as she holds my wrists.
We take the steps slowly, and it’s not lost on me how this is the way things are gonna have to go with her.
When we get up to the third floor, it’s pitch dark as I guide her to the wall. “Stay put while I try to unlock the door.”
“Do you think the lights will be back on soon? I should really get back.”
I can tell she’s n
ervous. For half a second, it might rub me the wrong way, but then I think about what’s really going on here. She wants me.
“You can stay as long as you want, but if you try anything funny, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
A giggle erupts from her just as I get the damn key in properly, unlock my door, and then open it. Moonlight illuminates my loft.
“Come on in.” I hold the door open wide, and she walks very slowly inside.
“You live here alone?”
I shut the door behind me and lock it. “I do.”
“Wow,” she says, looking around. “I love it. The windows are facing …”
“The River Liffey.” I walk to the island separating the kitchen from the living room slash bedroom and light the large, three-wick candle in the center then the four smaller pillar ones surrounding it.
I carry two of the candles to the coffee table that is made from pallets and set them down.
Kendall is still standing at the window, looking at the river.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“The other night was a fluke. I’m not a big drinker.”
I walk over and grab two bottles of water from the small refrigerator. “No? I wouldn’t have guessed that at all.”
As I walk over, I crack the seal on one of the bottles. I decide to stand next to her instead of wrapping my arms around from behind, saves having to explain why she’s getting poked in the ass. I hand her the bottle.
“Thanks,” she almost whispers.
“You’re welcome.” Things are too fucking quiet. “Sorry about the show.”
With a smile in her voice, she says, “It’s not like you caused the electricity to go out.”
“Maybe this is a very well-thought-out plan,” I joke.
She laughs. “Between you and the clouds?”
I nod as I turn and look at her, but before I have a chance to say anything, she shakes her head.
“What?” I ask.
She looks back out the window. “I like you, Ben, and if I’m honest—”
