Stephenie Meyer = ownership of characters
Whoever I am = ownership of improbable plot
Baby You Can Drive My Car
What are we up to now? Oh yeah, chapter four
I mean, I really fell. Those platform boots which had been obedient and supportive throughout our set went into rebellion mode somehow in collusion with my ankles and I came tumbling down. Luckily the Sexinator wasn't quite standing in the target area to be knocked over by the harlot train crash that was me. Unluckily I staggered into Gog who had materialized in the doorway and I nearly knocked him over instead. When I say unluckily I don't exactly mean that. My face landed smoosh right on his chest, my parted lips more or less exactly smack-bang in the open v of his shirt collar, directly on his skin. Apart from being mortifying it was fucking hot. His arms encircled me reflexively and he took a step backwards and I felt my weight on him. My leg went in hard between his thighs where there was nothing to feel, of course, except a soft bulge. I hoped I hadn't hurt him. I hoped I hadn't damaged him. I tucked my head forward while he took me by the upper arms to prise me off his body and while surrounded by my hair I licked my lips to get the taste of his chest. Damn, he was salty. And fine.
I looked up and was just in time to catch the disappearing flare in his eyes of something older and stronger than him or me. Something that wasn't related to him-ness or me-ness, something very base and one-dimensional that happens when a female body slams unexpectedly into a male body and they each go oomph... Commence Docking Procedure. Only of course, that wasn't going to happen. A surprised reaction must have been all over my face as I stared up at him - it was certainly on his. But then his cognitive awareness took over from his primitive brain and he said sternly, "Pull yourself together, Bella," while settling me back into an upright position.
I shut my mouth and got my legs back underneath me and looked around. Jaspinator was grinning widely at me, Mike was wearing his favorite Christ you're a fuckwit expression, and Lauren was gazing past me at Tyler Crowley with a face that said Take me I'm yours. He was looking back at her, not exactly in the same way, but in a sort of Hello, you're cute way. Man, was she going to get in trouble. I was going to get in trouble, I could already see it, but at least I didn't have a fucking boyfriend.
Introductions were made all round and we shook hands and it was all pretty neutral even though Jasper's Texan purr nearly made what was left of my dress fall off. Edward went away to attend to important tour manager stuff, maybe like checking in with the merch person to see how our stock was going and checking in the door bitch to see how many people were in because that's the sort of thing Carlisle would be doing, and the Monsters went back to their own room. Without the immediate threat of spontaneous combustion I sat and buzzed out - right the way out of my fucking head. Edward. Fuck. Jasper. Fuck. Bella. The word fuck, infinite as it is, didn't even cover it.
After our band boys had wandered off somewhere I turned to Lauren.
"How are you doing?" I asked her, reasoning she had to be doing better than I was. She'd had less alcoholic beverage, for a start, since I'd been throwing back the vodkas between songs.
"Oh, yeah, you know. I'm going to get through this," she answered bravely.
"Course you are, sweetie. Is it really that bad?" I asked her with sympathy. Lauren is not a dickwad like I am, so this was OOC for her.
"No, I guess I'm just being stupid. It's a fangirl crush, that's all. Can you believe it - I look at photos of Tyler and I feel a connection? It's so stupid," she sighed. "Seeing him in the flesh like that makes me go a little wobbly."
"Lauren, I just don't get it. What about James?" I asked her, but I had a sinking feeling that I did get it. Lauren and James had been together a couple of years, they were pretty happy and things were good between them. But apparently something purely chemical went on in her when she so much as thought of Tyler, and it was inexplicable. It could undermine her relationship if she wasn't very careful. I wasn't even in a relationship, but pheromones or chemistry or something were acting on me when I was around Edward - or maybe it was just that my sizeable ego recognized a matching strength - I don't know.
But it wasn't only Edward. Over the past few months as The Monsters gained a media profile, when I'd seen photos of Jasper Whitlock pouting I'd felt vaguely unstable. Now here he was in clutching distance and there was danger in the air. It would be best for me to avoid them both altogether, but no, whoop-de-doo, I was going to spend two weeks in close proximity with both of them - twin harbingers of Bella bedlam. How colossally could I fuck up? We'd all see soon enough. Me and Lauren, at least we'd be together on our downward slide to hormone doom.
"Lauren, you funny little dreamer. Just talk to Aunt Bella and I'll see you straight. I am a worldwide expert on crushes, relationships, and all things Guy. I'm here to help," I told her as reassuringly as I could because I thought it might benefit me to focus on someone else rather than myself, and she smiled a little.
"Yeah, Bella, don't we just know it," she said and I took her hand, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek just as Edward walked back into the room. He saw me kiss her and then his gaze shifted to mine and Lauren's linked hands.
"The Monsters are going on right now," he said, and it sounded curt. So what? I pulled Lauren up and she and I sallied past him out of the room and towards the side of stage area.
And fuck me sideways The Frightening Little Monsters were just that. Their rhythm section was so tight they hit every beat together like their brains were connected, but so loose they lagged behind like a slow fuck. I hadn't understood Lauren's Tyler thing at all when I met him but now - seeing him play, with his bass slung low across his groin, and hips jutting into it like - you know - I found myself mimicking his movements. He didn't play anything fancy at all, no runs, no riffs, just solid pounding, and that's what his pelvis did, too. Poor Lauren had her eyes half closed and she might just have been groaning. And the Sexinator just sexinated. His sweaty hair was everywhere as he stood there and swiveled with his narrow skinny hips, both hands curved around the mic and his mouth over it as if he was performing an obscenity. Now and again he'd look out over the audience with this incredible come-hither thing, like he was an anti-Moses who'd found the Red Sea already parted and wanted to coax it back together. And just from looking at him the entire female part of the audience was helplessly coaxable. You could see them all transfixed and wanting. But then he'd grin and he didn't look sexy at all, he looked prettier than a girl and like someone you'd want for your best friend. No wonder he and his band were so popular.
At one point he glanced over to me and Lauren and gave us a smile like sunshine. Tyler didn't look over at all, which was just as well because I was already propping Lauren up. If they'd made an eye connection I reckon she would have turned into a puddle.
Afterwards back in our room there was a mutual admiration session, with all of the Monsters saying they liked us, and all of us saying we liked them. Edward appeared to have everything under control - overseeing the load out, checking with the venue management as to figures, and somehow managing to keep an eye on the band room at the same time. Us and the FLM 's had by now combined riders, and I'd started on the bourbon, wisely sitting next to the Sexinator.
"Kentucky's finest, darlin'," he drawled, drinking out of the bottle and handing it to me.
"Three cheers for Kentucky," I answered, mimicking his accent and he laughed while I took a swig. As long as he laughed I could handle it.
Lauren was resolutely ignoring Tyler, who had said he liked her keyboard playing. Way not to act strung out like a paranoid freak, girl, I thought. He had turned to Mike in confusion at her rudeness, and the two of them were debating round-wound versus flat-wound strings, fucking bass-playing nerds.
I was just starting to feel comfortably numb when Edward reappeared.
"Okay, gang," he said, every inch sober as a judge. "It's time to clear out. Swan Collective, this is your boarding call. Monsters, we'll see you tomorrow."
Me, Mike, Jessica, Ben and Ron all stood up. Jasper smiled. Fuck, he had nice teeth. Yeah, and nice lips.
And me and my lot cleared out of there. Edward had Carlisle's car with the extra seats in the back so we could all get in. Our super-efficient brand-new tour manager dropped us one by one, and as he stopped by Lauren's place, I moved in close and gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "Remember, I'm your Agony Aunt," I whispered.
"Yeah, sure. Thanks," she said as she got out.
I was the last one Edward dropped off. He stopped the car outside my building, but when I went for the door handle, it was locked.
"Uh?" I said, cruisy from the whoops - vodka and bourbon, suddenly remembering he hadn't said a thing about the band's performance.
"So what did you think tonight?" I asked.
"I didn't know about you and Lauren," he answered.
"Me and Lauren what?" I said.
"I didn't know you had a thing going," he said. "Carlisle has never discussed your personal lives with me. I didn't know."
What? "I'm not with Lauren!" I spluttered. "Why would you think that?" And then of course I recalled the neck-lick thing, with my hands on her waist and her belly. And maybe the slight kissage, later. Oh, and the minor hand-holding.
"It's okay, Bella, you don't have to deny it. Me and six hundred other people saw you. And the footage is probably all over the internet by now," he said.
Fuck fuck. Carlisle had warned me about bizarre costumes being broadcast for public scrutiny but I had completely overlooked that bizarre behavior might be, too. I'd planned the dress ripping thing but the girl-on-girl business had been spontaneous. I was trying to get a reaction out of Edward. Not this kind of reaction, though. Not this calm acceptance that I was gay.
"Lauren and I aren't together! We're both straight. She even has a boyfriend!" I said, urgently.
"Really? It that's the case, you might want to consider how he's going to feel when he sees what you did tonight. And you also might want to think about the image you're projecting," he said, and flicked the switch to unlock the door.
I was agape, I didn't know what to make of it. Was this a putdown of my antics or was he genuine?
He walked around and got my bag out of the back of the car and handed it to me as I alighted.
"And Bella, whatever that business was the other night when you kissed me, I don't like playing games. Don't fuck with me. And I don't know what's going on with you and Lauren, boyfriend or no, but don't fuck with her either. My job on this tour is to look after all of you as individuals and as a group and I don't play favorites and you don't have a get out of jail free card. Clean your act up a little. I'll collect you at ten am tomorrow. Be ready."
His expression said nothing. There wasn't a trace of the delighted smile he'd warmed me with when I sat across his lap that other stupid long away and far ago time. There wasn't the 'me man, you woman' thing I'd seen when I'd collided with him, there wasn't a trace of the smirk he usually wore, there wasn't the narrowed eyed measuring when I'd tongued my female keyboard player for six inches of throat. Nothing. Just exactly who was fucking with who here?
"Uh, goodnight," I said, but he'd already gone.
I went in and rolled a joint and got stoned and refused to think about him. I went to bed.
But while my conscious mind was capable of ejecting him, my subconscious wasn't. I thought that he came back and that he appeared somehow on the inside of my bedroom window, and all but immobilized me with a stare as he came closer. I managed to sit up as he crawled on his hands and knees up from the foot of my bed over my coverlet and then he pressed me down into my pillows, with his mouth hungry at mine and his hand reaching for my hip, pulling me hard against him as his weight crushed me.
In a dream can you get what you want? Can you heck. Edward inexplicably sprang to the other side of the room when I opened my mouth to kiss him back, and when I implored him to return he simply disappeared. I woke panting and perspiring and couldn't get back to sleep.
.
.
.
Fun times ahead for our heroine, we hope.
