J
Last night I slipped into the hotel room and grabbed my nightshirt while my dad snored like a champ. Then I took a twenty-minute shower and fingered myself into a Lisa-induced orgasm.
This morning I feel better. Calmer. And ready for another day of Coachella with my dad. The heat is off the charts. They say the hottest spring on record. In true Hell, I-don't-give-a-shit fashion, I'm wearing an Alice blue, strapless sundress that doesn't cover much, my silver Birkies, and lots of bracelets. My travels didn't allow for my henna tattoos, which sucks because they would look amazing with all the skin showing today.
"Bethanne?" My dad nods for me to follow him over a few feet as we wait for the next act to come out on stage.
A dark-haired woman turns. "Mitchell Kim." She grins and falls into his open arms.
"How long has it been?" he asks, setting her back on her feet. It was quite the hug.
"At least ten years."
Dad turns. "Bethanne, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Jennie. Jennie, this is Bethanne. Her husband and I were in the Marines together."
They share a sad smile. I don't ask, but it's pretty obvious that said husband is no longer alive.
"Nice to meet you." I smile.
"You too. And don't let your dad lie to you. Alan and your dad were in the same band before they both enlisted."
I raise my eyebrows. Dad grins, nodding slowly like he's remembering the good ol' days.
"You here by yourself?" he asks her.
"Will you judge me as a pathetic old woman if I say yes?"
"You're younger than me." He bites his lower lip.
Is he flirting with her? Okay, I'm out of here. "So … I'm going to see if I can find um … Rosé. I'll text you later?"
Rosé is not here. I grasp for the easy excuse.
"Yeah, sure. Be careful."
"It was nice meeting you." Bethanne holds up her hand.
I mirror her gesture. "You too."
Instead of looking for a friend who I know is not even in California, I worm my way toward the front of the stage just as an electric guitar cuts through the stacks of speakers. The crowd comes to life and the technicolor of lights start to dance around to the building beat.
"What's up, COACHELLA! This song called As If It's Your Last. So I want everybody dance like IT'S YOUR LAAAAST!!!" the lead singer yells before diving into the lyrics.
I throw my arms in the air and give my own scream because the energy is contagious. But I can't stay. I'm on a mission: find Lisa and see why she touched my leg.
I'm not going to ask her that in those exact words, but I need to know why and if she felt it like I did. I need to know why she let me go, even if I know it's because of her dad and her self-induced prison sentence. She needs to tell me to my face that she doesn't want me anymore, that she's met someone else.
Swallowing a year and half of pride, I message her.
Me: Where are you?
She doesn't respond right away, so I bob my head to the beat and envy those around me who are ten stories high on weed. I could use a little hit at the moment.
Lisa: Hotel.
I start to type something, but wait … why would she be at the hotel? Unless she's with Tzuyu and they're …
My stomach starts to reject the last meal I fed it. I don't respond. She's a grown woman. We ended. She has needs. Tzuyu clearly is capable of filling them.
A few minutes later, my phone chimes.
Lisa: Why?
Me: Nothing. Sorry to disturb you.
I told her Noah kissed me. She should just tell me she'll talk later after she gets done fucking Tzuyu. That's fair. I deserve it.
Lisa: Room 312
Please be alone and not inviting me for a threesome.
I don't text back. Instead, I hop on the first shuttle back to the hotel. Am I ready to be alone with her? No one to distract us from the elephant in the room? Probably not, but I take the elevator to the third floor and knock on room 312 anyway.
After a few seconds, she opens the door.
"Hey." Her gaze eats me up. "Nice dress."
If before I showed up I wasn't acutely aware of how little it covers, I am now. "Thank you."
She holds open the door. I take cautious steps into her hotel room, inspecting my surroundings for any signs that a woman has been in here with her.
"Why are you here?" I ask, pulling open her shades to check out her not-so-awesome view of the roof to the pool area.
"Job injury."
I look back at her as she bends at the waist and parts her hair just behind the crown of her head. There's a row of stitches.
"I took a hammer to the head this morning. Some guys working above me dropped it. Five stitches."
My nose wrinkles. "Ouch. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. No big deal. But I was told to take the rest of the day off. So … instead of baking my wound in the sun, I came back here." She plops down on the king-sized bed. Leaning against the headboard, she turns on the TV. "Figured I'd binge-watch something."
I grin, taking a seat in the desk chair. She's mocking me.
"Where's your dad?"
"Hanging out with an old friend. A woman." I smirk. "He started acting all flirty with her, so I decided to ditch him for the day."
"To come see me?"
"No. Yes." My teeth trap my lower lip to stop my rambling. "I don't know. I thought you were probably there, so I was just seeing if you …"
Touched me on purpose.
Miss me.
Love me.
"If I wanted some fries with extra ketchup?"
Yup. I love her. If there was any question about it before I walked through her hotel room door, there isn't now.
My cheeks burn again like they did last night. Lisa can touch me without lifting a finger. I feel her in ways I've never felt anyone before. "Yeah. That." I grin, keeping my eyes on her while I reach for the phone and press room service. "Hi. Can we get an order of french fries with extra ketchup and two bottles of water? Thank you."
The hum of the air conditioner gets really loud in our awkward silence. French fries seemed like a good start. Now what do we do or say while waiting for room service?
"Last night I enjoyed hearing about your travels." Lisa knows what direction we need to go with this awkwardness, but now I can't find all those brave words I wanted to say because I just want to hug her and ask her if there was someone else. If she made it up. If she fell out of love with me. So many questions.
"I felt like I was dominating the conversation. But Tzuyu had so many questions."
She chuckles. "She was pretty elated when she figured out who you are."
"So … how do know Tzuyu?"
"Coachella. We met years ago. A lot of us did. This is our annual gathering now. Strangers who became good friends through music."
"Friends," I repeat to myself more than her.
"Is there something you want to ask me?" She cocks her head a bit.
I shake my head.
"You want to know if Tzuyu is more than a friend?"
Well, Tzuyu's very pretty. Of course I want to know. But when my parting words to her included I hate you, I think I lost the right to know.
My heart is completely out of control, making my chest tighten. I thought I could do this, but I can't. Digging into my bag, I pull out some cash and toss it onto the desk. "The fries are on me." I stand and make my way toward the door.
"Jesus, Jennie. That's it?" She flies off the bed and presses her hand to the door over my head.
With my back to her, I look at my feet, holding my breath.
Don't cry.
"I let you go. There wasn't anyone else."
"Why?" I say with a strained voice, teetering on the edge of losing it all.
"Because I had my dad, and he wasn't doing well. Because I had a ranch to take care of and a job at the school to keep. And because you had the whole world and nothing holding you back … except me."
I turn around, not caring that with one blink my tears race down my face. "You weren't holding me back!" Anger fights with the pain. I don't know which wants out more. I just know that they both hurt.
Her face scrunches while she shakes her head several times. "I was. You weren't living. You were tethered to me. I knew it when you told me about Noah. The guilt. That's not living." She rubs the tension along her forehead. "Trust me. Guilt robs you. It eats at you. It was going to destroy us eventually. I just … I wanted you to be free in every sense of the word."
"That wasn't your choice to make." I wipe the endless flow of tears from my face.
"You've been gone for more than two years. Did you find someone?"
I lied. I still hate her. I hate her for asking me that.
"I found lots of people. I made lots of friends."
"Did you find love?"
Biting my quivering lip, I shake my head.
"Did you let men inside of you?" Her eyes turn red, filled with unshed tears.
We stand toe to toe while years of emotions fill the air around us, while so much pain bleeds from both of us without saying a word.
"You let me go …" I whisper.
She takes a step back. My answer to her question is clear on her face. "I did. And that's why."
I cough a painful laugh. "You let me go so I'd have sex with other men? That's fucked up."
"My life is fucked-up, Jennie!" She swallows hard. Her face distorts as more unshed tears fill her eyes. "My father has cancer, and if I turn my back, he tries to end his life. My sister hates me. I hate my job because it reminds me of you. I hate every second of every day except the ones where I'm with you. And you left and I didn't want to hate myself any more for holding you back. I didn't want to be your dream that would never come true!"
"You. Don't. Get. To. Choose. My. Life!" I ball my hands, so angry that she shut me out of her life. I'm so angry that she feels the need to suffer in silence. "I would have come home. You should have told me everything."
"Sure." Sarcasm drips from her voice. "I should have told the girl who was suicidal a few years ago to come home and hold my hand while I deal with my suicidal father. That would have been way more fun for you than surfing in South Africa or parachuting in Spain. Waiting for me until the wee hours to get my shit done just to watch me pass out would have been way more romantic than sex with a man who had something to give you in return."
Running my fingers through my hair, I sob. "It was sex. They had sex to give me. Empty, meaningless sex."
Lisa takes another step back and another, resignation settling into her face. "I won't apologize for what I did. I was there last night. I heard the excitement in your voice when you talked about the places you saw and the people you met. I wanted that for you. Everyone wanted that for you."
"Funny …" I shake my head. "Because after two years, a million new faces, and countless cities … every place was simply a place without you. So it doesn't matter that everyone wanted that for me. I only wanted you."
There's a knock at the door. Lisa frowns, brushing by me.
"Thanks," she murmurs to the guy delivering the french fries. After shutting the door, she brushes by me again, setting the covered plate of fries on the desk.
"Life House, 'Broken,'" I whisper, reaching for the door handle to leave.
Lisa wraps her hand around my wrist to stop me. Her lips brush along my ear. I draw in a shaky breath.
She whispers, "Snow Patrol, 'Chasing Cars.'"
Snow Patrol for the win. I turn slowly into her embrace. She presses her forehead to mine, threading her hands through my hair. We close our eyes for long seconds. In my head, Gary Lightbody sings about just forgetting the world. In the next breath, Lisa kisses me.
So this is what it feels like to understand that the world is not a place or a destination. It's a moment. When we touch, it's the world. It's life.
I slide her shirt up her torso. She breaks our kiss long enough to let me ease her shirt over her head, being careful of her stitches. Kissing her again, I run my hands down her chest. She groans deep in her throat. I love that I still can affect her this way.
My mouth moves from her lips to her jaw, neck, chest, and then … I stop.
Oh my god …
My fingertips ghost along her skin to the black letters stacked up her torso just above her hip bone.
J
E
N
N
I
E
Inked permanently into her skin. I look up.
She cradles my face in her hands, brushing the pad of her thumb across my lips. "In spite of what you believe, my Jennie could never be temporary."
Her mouth replaces her thumb, and we kiss harder than we've ever kissed each other. She palms my breast over my dress for two seconds before she shoves it down. Hungry lips devour the skin along my neck, one breast then the other while she works my dress over my hips so it drifts to the floor, a blue puddle at my feet.
"Lisa …" my knees turn to jelly as my first orgasm starts to throb between my legs, desperate to be set free.
"Jennie …" she whispers, lowering her body to lick and suck my belly button while sliding off my panties.
No words can describe how it feels to be physically worshipped by a woman who has my name permanently tattooed on her body—like she wants to always feel me on her naked skin. Like she wants to make sure every other woman knows she's mine. Lisa let me go and kept me forever at the same time.
"You're so beautiful." Her hands palm my ass and her tongue teases my clit, stopping just before I let go. She tastes her way back up my body, letting her hands follow every curve and line like she sculpted me and she's admiring her work.
We kiss again as she walks us the few feet to the bed. I unfasten her jeans. She breaks the kiss to watch me, each one of her breaths ragged with anticipation.
I rid her of her jeans and briefs, stopping on my way back up her body to taste her the way she tasted me. Hooded eyes watch me as her lips part. My gaze stays connected to hers while my tongue makes a slow, wet swipe up her erection. I give her a devilish grin.
"Don't lick it like one of your lollipops, suck it in hard and deep like the last drag of a joint."
She smirks, knowing exactly what I'm doing. Fisting the base of her cock, she guides it into my mouth. "Fuuuck …" She hisses when I take a hit, sucking her hard.
My skin heats like I'm melting. I've missed her—her warmth, her gentle hands, and her body. I've missed the familiarity of us.
Lisa's abs contract while her breaths become harsher. I release her and press my lips to her hipbone for a few seconds before dotting a kiss on each letter of my name.
"My Jennie could never be temporary."
Emotion stings my eyes. The way she loves me is more beautiful than anything I've seen in the whole world—and I've seen a lot.
Lisa sits on the bed, taking the weight of my breasts in her hands. Her mouth makes love to them while I straddle her legs, up on my knees, rubbing myself along her erection. Licking and biting her way up to my neck, she palms the back of my head and whispers in my ear, "Let me grab a condom." She sucks in my earlobe, biting it and dragging her teeth across it.
My heart freezes because my mind decides to wander into dangerous territory. She didn't know I was going to be at Coachella. Yet, she has condoms. I know, I really know that it makes total sense. After all, it's Coachella. The year I met Lisa here I had twelve condoms with no name in particular assigned to any of them. It was just the smart thing to do because … it's Coachella.
I sit back on her lap, resting my forehead against her chest, eyes shut.
She kisses the top of my head. "Jennie, what's wrong?"
My mind hates me. Why does it have to go there? And why does my heart have to follow it? I purchased condoms over the past two years—more than once. I have absolutely no right to be upset or feel hurt by Lisa having condoms. Where's the off switch for my mind?
But … this is Lisa. I told her about Noah, and if she asks, I'll tell her about every man who ever touched me. We are greater than every mistake, stronger than any lie, and our love is embodied in the truth.
That is Jennie and Lisa. Jenlisa.
"You have condoms, but there's no way you bought them for me." That's all I say. I don't need to apologize for how I'm feeling. She'll know. Lisa will understand.
Her strong, calloused hands cradle my jaw, lifting my gaze to meet hers. "Yes." Deep lines of pain form along her forehead. "So what are we going to do about it?"
My heart will trip over a million things while chasing Lisa Manoban. I need it to get up, dust off, and keep running. At times like this, it needs to outrun my mind. I need to let my heart win.
Keeping my blue eyes locked to hers, my hand wraps around her cock, stroking it slowly. Her eyes leaden.
"Jennie …" She watches me touch her. "What are we going to do about it?"
I lift onto my knees again, whispering my lips over hers. "You didn't buy those condoms for me." My tongue traces the seam of her mouth. She opens up for me. Our mouths fuse as I sink onto her erection.
Lisa's hands grab my hips to stop me for a second. I drag my tongue along the roof of her mouth and curl my fingers into the hard muscles of her back. She groans into our kiss and pulls me completely onto her.
My breath catches as she fills me—my body, my mind … my heart.
Within seconds we become a tangled mess of arms and legs destroying the sheets while our moans and the relentless creaking of the bed frame fills the air. Lisa drives into me hard. Every muscle of her body is ridged and demanding just like her kiss. We roll in every direction, desperate for more, for it to last, for time to stop.
"Lisa …" I beg for more and harder. She gives me more, so much more that it feels like she's trying to crawl inside of me to capture my entire soul.
Covered in sweat, with the sheets ripped entirely off one side of the king mattress, my name rips from her chest as her warm release fills me.
"I love you so … damn … much …" She pants into my neck with the weight of her collapsed body pinning me to the mattress.
I've never felt so thoroughly fucked, claimed, owned, desired, needed, and loved.
"Lisa?" My fingers slide through the back of her hair, feeling something stickier than sweat. "Your stitches."
"Fuck the stitches." It's as if even lifting a finger is too much work for her.
"I fear they've torn open and you've lost your mind. We can't fuck the stitches. They're kind of important."
She lifts her head from the crook of my neck. "I'm fairly certain I lost my mind approximately three years ago."
"Funny." I wrinkle my nose. "But seriously, you're bleeding."
She rolls her eyes and groans, easing off me onto her back. I inspect her stitches. They're still intact, but the cut is bleeding a bit. "I think resting for the afternoon didn't involve what we just did."
"I think you're full of shit," she mumbles with her eyes shut, both hands resting on her chest.
Ignoring her, I clean up in the bathroom and wet a washcloth to deal with the blood.
"Does it hurt?" I blot her head.
"Nope." She doesn't even flinch.
I set the wash cloth aside. Kneeling behind her head, I bend over and kiss her upside down. "I missed you beyond words," I whisper.
Her eyes open, looking a few shades darker blue beneath the curtain of my hair around us. "You hated me."
"Yes." I drop soft kisses all over her face. "But I loved you more."