by Scott, S. L.
“I can’t wait for you to take it.” I bite my lip, unsure if I should ask, but I want to know. I have to learn to let him in. “Have you told anyone that you have a girlfriend?”
“The guys know.”
“I mean anyone else.”
“That’s not information I would share with many people, so I don’t think—oh, wait. I told a woman today.”
Sitting up straight, I ask, “What woman?”
“The woman in my room . . . Ugh. Fuck. That sounds really bad. It’s not what you think.”
My mind starts reeling with images of him and female fans rolling around in bed together. “What do I think?”
“You’re thinking I did something wrong, but I woke up, and she was there.”
“What? Someone broke into your hotel room?”
“No. She used a key—Fuck. I’m screwing this up.”
“Yes, you are. Did you let her in, or did she break in?”
“She works for the hotel. When I didn’t respond to any calls or answer the door for room service, I guess they check on the guests. Or maybe because I’m a musician, they worry I’m the next victim to the legacy.”
Worry fills my gut. “I don’t want you to die.”
“Good, because I don’t want to die either.”
The alarm on my phone buzzes, and I look down at the screen. With it back to my ear, I say, “I have to get to class, but everything’s okay, right?”
“Everything’s better than okay. It will be too late in Austin for me to call you after the show—”
“Call me anyway. Break a leg, babe.”
I hang up and suck in a shaky breath. Trust. I have trust in him. Standing, I start walking up the steps toward the building for my next class. I tug on my backpack, situating it so it’s more comfortable on my shoulders when my phone rings.
Still trekking across campus, I see the screen and smile before answering it. “Hey you. Long time, no talk.”
“I miss you.” His voice is deep, lowered with promises of dirty talk.
Even though he already told me he missed me, it feels good to hear him say it again. “I miss you, too.” I stop and feel the heaviness of the emotions I’ve been trying to keep at bay. “I’m ready to see you again.”
“Soon, I promise.”
His words echoing a promise he made to me that he probably doesn’t even remember making. This time when we hang up, it’s not as rushed, slower as reality sets in. Just because he’ll be back in the States soon doesn’t mean I’ll get to see him.
I tuck my phone back in the side pocket of my backpack and continue my journey because I know we’ll be okay.
* * *
“Ms. Fellowes, please see me after the test,” the professor says while tapping my desk in the middle of a pop quiz.
“Yes, sir.”
The quiz is easy, so easy I start doubting myself, so I go over it once more before I turn it in. Other students drop their quizzes off and head for the door, but I stay. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes,” he says, steepling his fingers. “I had an interesting opportunity come across my desk yesterday. I’ve been thinking about the right student that would make a good fit. I think you would.”
“What is it?”
He stands and comes around the desk, leaning against it and crossing his ankles. “Have you made plans for the summer?”
“No,” I reply. “I’m focused on midterms right now.”
“This is a rare opportunity to take an advanced step toward managing university departments and will give you the skills to apply the work done here to other companies trying to expand. The business department needs an overhaul with fresh and innovative new ideas. Professor Longood is retiring this summer, so the board has rearranged the department in hopes of growing with the times.” He chuckles and pushes his glasses up his nose. “We’re about a decade or two behind. I’d like for you to consider the position. It’s temporary with potential for full-time work. It’s a great opportunity. If you’re interested, I can email you the details.”
Stunned. This is so unexpected and a lot to take in. It’s only fall and not even second semester. I could have a job secured and in place before Christmas, five months before graduation. My mind is blown. “Please do. I’d love to read more about. And thank you. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“You’re a star student, and anyone would be lucky to have you on their team, Ms. Fellowes.”
“Thank you again.” I hold my backpack in my arms until I’m in the hall. Then I swing it over my shoulder and hurry out of the building to squeal again. Today is my day. I can just feel it. It’s all coming together. All the hard work is finally starting to pay off, and even though I should be excited about what I’m achieving, it’s my heart that feels the most joy. Because, I know that Dave will be just as excited for me as I am. He’ll share my joy, not try to control it or demean it. Because that’s how it should be.
* * *
The note on the delivery says, “Since we’re sending food, I miss eating you but sent this instead. I’m a poet, and I know it. Send pics.” I drag the tip of the scissors down the tape seam and bust it open. I grab my phone and am about to call him, but then remember he’s playing a show.
Since he can’t be here to enjoy them with me, I indulge with a glass of wine while taking a bath. With bubbles not covering the good parts, I snap like twenty photos and then sort them to the find the perfect one, crop it, filter it, and then put a cute frame around it that says wish you were here. Two glasses of wine down and I finally press send.
I’m not in the mood to be alone. Stella was at Holli’s with the girls tonight living the Hollywood life, and it’s almost six in the morning in England, so I can’t chat with Darcy, and Dave is doing . . . who knows. We’re so far from each other that he’s living in a different day from me.
Just when I’m getting sad, my phone rings, making my heart happy again. “Hi.”
“That is the single most fuckin’ sexy photo I’ve ever seen in my life.” Dave lowers his voice. “Tell me you’re still in that bath eating Ding Dongs.”
I take a bite, then say, “Eating right now. Wish you were here to eat them with me.”
“You’re killing me, cherry cheeks. I’m lonely. I’m horny. I’m hungry. This pic has everything I ever wanted—great fuckin’ tits, food, and you wet all over.”
“Would you like to fuck my tits?” I’m blaming the wine.
Silence.
“Dave?”
The sound of a heavy breath fills my ear, then he says, “You can’t talk to me like that when I can’t get to you.”
I set the Ding Dong down and take a sip of wine. “I’ve eaten two. I’m a whore for you.”
“Fuck me, Meadow. I’m heading into another interview, and now my dick is hard as steel.”
My hand slinks under the warm bubbly water to calm the pulse throbbing between my legs. “How much time do you have?”
“Not enough.”
“Trust me. It won’t take long.”
“Tommy, I need five,” he says in a hurry. “Toilet.” A second of silence and I can hear the noises, but then his voice comes back on with an echo. “You touching yourself, baby?”
“I am. Are you alone?”
“Yeah. How do you feel?”
“Slick. Wet. Warm. Horny.”
“Shit. Do you ever get yourself off?”
“Yes. To images of you. The way you suck my nipples and the feel of your scruff as it scratches between my legs. Sometimes I use my vibrator, but I never put it inside me. Only you go there.”
“That’s right, baby. Only I go there. Only I kiss those lips. Only I suck those tits and get you off, except when I’m not there and then only you can do that. Tell me how it feels to have your fingers down there.”
“Not calloused like yours. Not rough how I like it. Not you.”
“Close your eyes and pretend they are. Rub your clit. Make yourself feel good.”
“It feels
good. Are you making yourself feel good?”
“Later. Do you slip inside or stay on the outside?”
“Outside,” I say through a stilted breath. Setting the phone down, I put it on speaker. “Tell me what to do, Dave.”
“Circles. You fall apart under circles. Firm and consistent with a little pressure on the clit.”
I follow his directions, and my eyes fall closed. “Ah.” Tiny moans fill the bathroom as I get closer and closer. The feeling grows, and I move my hand faster. “Getting so close.”
“Dave?”
Shit. Jet’s voice scares me, and I grip the edge of the tub when I sit up, knocking my phone into the water. “Shit.” Fishing it out, I stand and get out in the emergency to dry it with a towel before legging it into the kitchen and dumping it in the container of rice I keep in my pantry for this sole purpose. The screen is black, and I’m left dripping wet . . . in all ways. Shoot.
I go back in the bathroom and grab the towel I dumped in my hurry and dry my body, groaning over all that just happened.
Checking on my phone once more before bed, I search for any signs of life, but there are none. I don’t have the money to get a new one, so I’m going to have to email Stella tomorrow and beg, bargain, and plead my way into offering to pay her back.
The two boxes of Ding Dongs Dave shipped to me still manage to bring a smile, though. I think he’s trying to get me fattened up so he can eat me . . . I can’t say I have a problem with this plan.
Two glasses of red wine have my head spinning, so I take an Ibuprofen and go to bed. Not only am I left without coming, but now I also don’t have a way to contact Dave. Tomorrow can only get better.
28
Meadow
I mulled the job opportunity over for a week, not wanting to share the news with anyone until I had a good idea of where I stood with it. I knew deep down that it didn’t feel right, but the chance to secure a paid position right out of college was appealing. More than appealing, though, is it’s what I’ve wanted all along.
Or so I thought.
Things are complicated.
Stella is in California, and I naturally thought I’d be moving out there to be closer to her as the only family I’m still in touch with. But Ridge came along sweeping me off my feet when I least expected it. Dave followed through and has made me happier than I’ve ever been.
Two sides of the same man.
One gives me a thrill.
The other speaks to my heart.
Who will win?
I once foolishly thought I would never fall for a rock star, but then again, I hadn’t met Ridge. Now that we’re in a relationship, I’ve allowed myself to see that side of him, to enjoy it, and seeing him onstage as fans scream his name and his fingers fly across those strings—he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. It’s like watching porn, but better because he’s mine, and all the ways he manipulates the chords will be how he controls my body.
And the intensity, the passion with which he plays, is the same intensity he shares with me. When we talk, he’s focused on me, and that in and of itself is both a comfort and a trial. I want more of him all the time. And then my head goes back to the gutter, thinking about what more with Dave is like.
Fanning myself, I turn off the video and close my laptop to prepare for landing. I check my seat belt and sit back, trying to relax. Flying still makes me nervous, even in first class. The comfort of the bigger seats and alcohol doesn’t rid that niggling deep down that tells me that if people were meant to fly, they would have been born with wings.
“Here on business?” the man next to me asks.
“Yes.” My palms start to sweat. I shouldn’t have had two glasses of champagne, but since it was free . . . My head swims a bit, my nerves kicking in. “Sexual.”
“What?”
“Oh,” I start. Shit, I said that out loud. “I’m going to LA to see my boyfriend.”
The man’s eyes are still wide, and I think he might be grayer on top after talking to me. He snaps his newspaper and goes back to reading.
“Sorry. I get nervous on planes when I fly by myself.”
I get nothing. My sexual business has thrown this man completely off. I put my headphones on, slide down in my seat, and stare out the window. In the car I ordered on the app, I sit in the back seat. The man has an accent, but I can’t tell where he’s from. He’s been staring at me, but more out of interest than like he’s stalking me. “You’re going to a nice neighborhood.”
“Yes, it is nice.”
“Gated?”
“Yes, it’s a gated house.”
“Fancy. Very Hollywood.”
“Very.”
“I studied in Vermont before moving out here.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“It’s too cold there.”
“I bet.”
When there’s a break in the conversation, I rest my head back. Waking up at five to finish packing before my classes has caught up with me. The travel makes me even more tired, but the memories of last week still keep me going.
“You can use it anytime, sunshine.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“The plane ticket is for purely selfish reasons, so don’t go thinking I’m a saint or anything.”
I run my finger over the new phone that arrived the day after I lost mine in what I’m calling Watergate. The irony that it shares the same name as another scandal makes me laugh a little too hard every time I think about it. I lie down and set the phone on the pillow next to me, the speaker on. “The phone and now the ticket. It’s too much.”
“Again, purely selfish reasons. If you don’t have a phone, then how will I talk to you or hear your voice?”
“I’m feeling a lot selfish myself, so I’m taking these gifts.”
“And using them.”
“And using them. Thank you. You’re spoiling me, though. First Ding Dongs, then a phone, and now a plane ticket. No more presents, okay?”
“No, I can’t promise that. I’d be lying, and I always keep my promises.”
Standing at the gate at the bottom of the driveway, I take a deep breath and then push the button. “Meadow?”
“It’s me,” I reply, searching for the camera. When I find it in a nearby tree, I say, “Cheese.”
“What a surprise! Get up here, girl.”
The front door opens, and Alfie runs out and into my arms. “Meadow!”
“Hi, bud.” I embrace him because we hug family.
Hannah comes outside holding Violet. “What are you doing here?”
Dragging my suitcase in one hand and holding Alfie’s in the other, I say, “I wanted to surprise Dave.”
Alfie jumps up and down. “Are you going to move in with him? Are you going to get married like Uncle Rivers?”
I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes. I think we need to slow this train down. “I’m just here for a visit. I wanted to surprise him and my sister, but it seems I’m surprising all of you.”
As soon as we reach the front door, Alfie dashes inside with my suitcase. I hold my hands out for Violet who reaches for me with a dimpled smile. “Hi, baby girl.” Adjusting her on my hip, I look into her big blue eyes. “Can you be any more gorgeous? Nope,” I say, touching her nose. “You’re perfect.”
“How are you doing?” Hannah asks.
I give her a side hug. “Better than ever but missing my man.”
“I know he’s been missing you. They got back late last night and hit the studio this morning for a last-minute change. He’s been in a bad mood all day.”
“I heard. He was supposed to come see me this weekend, but since he’s stuck here, I came to surprise him instead.”
“He’s going to love it.” She walks inside and shuts the door behind me. Taking the baby from me, she says, “Make yourself at home and when you’re ready, he’s downstairs.”
“Meadow, come on.” I peek around Hannah to see Alfie waving me over. “Let’s surprise them.�
�� This kid is quite the character. He’s so excited. His enthusiasm for life reminds me of Tulsa again. They both love a fun plan and are always up for a party.
I’ve reminded myself fifty times over that Dave wouldn’t have bought the ticket if he didn’t want me here. I was nervous that I was making a mistake by coming unannounced, but now that I’m here, I’m excited too.
Following Alfie down the stairs and farther down the hall, I stop when he stops. He whispers, “The studio is there. We have to be quiet when that light is on.”
“It’s off.”
“Habit,” he says in full volume voice, causing me to laugh. When I don’t make a move, he nods toward the door. “You can go in when the light’s off.”
“Thanks, kid.”
When he runs up the stairs, I straighten my outfit, but some of the wrinkles in my shirt are set in. The door opens, and wrinkles don’t matter. Dave does. Before he can speak, I run into his arms, and say, “I missed you, rock star.”
His words are muffled since his face is pressed against me, but I think I make out, “Missed you too,” somehow. Turning to the side, he sucks in a few breaths, and says, “I couldn’t breathe.”
“Oh.” I uncurl myself from his face as he holds me by the ass. “Sorry.” So not sorry. I wrap myself around him again because my feelings for this man feel too big to contain to a simple hug.
“I like you happy to see me.” Looking up at me, he lowers me just enough so our mouths are aligned.
The laughter leaves the hall, and tension takes its place. The good kind of tension—sexual. His arms don’t even shake from my weight, so I pull my arms around and cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you, Dave Carson.”
“I’m ready, Meadow Fellowes.”
I kiss him not just because I missed him, but because I want him to know how much.
Clomping down the stairs behind me is heard, and Alfie says, “If you’re staying for dinner, you have to help set the table, Meadow.”
I stare into Dave’s eyes, surprised by Mr. Bossy Pants behind me. “He’s eight, right?”
Ridge laughs. “He is and going on twenty-five.”
