My neck had seized up. Pain shot through me as I slowly straightened and blinked the sleep from my eyes. I rubbed at the offending muscles, trying to get them to unlock. "Ow."
Lisa took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out, rubbing the back of my neck with strong fingers. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I must have slept funny." I shuffled up in the seat, taking in our surroundings, trying not to enjoy the neck rub too much. Because of course she was crazy good with her hands. Ms Magic Fingers cajoled my muscles back into some semblance of order with seemingly little effort. I couldn't be expected to resist. Impossible. So instead I moaned loudly and let her have her way with me.
Being barely awake was my only excuse.
The sun was only just rising. Tall, shadowy trees rushed by outside. Trying to get out of LA, we'd gotten caught in a traffic jam the likes of which this Portland girl had never seen. For all my good intentions we hadn't really talked. We'd stopped and gotten food and gas. The rest of the time, Johnny Cash had played on the stereo and I'd practiced speeches in my head. None of the words made it out of my mouth. For some reason, I was reluctant to call a halt to our adventure and go off on my own. It had nothing to do with pulling up my big girl panties and everything to do with how comfortable I'd begun to feel with her. The silence wasn't awkward. It was peaceful. Refreshing even, given the last day's worth of drama. Being with her on the open road … there was something freeing about it. At around two in the morning, I'd fallen asleep.
"Lisa, where are we?"
She gave me a sidelong look, her hand still massaging my muscles. "Well …"
A sign flew past outside. "We're going to Monterey?"
"That's where my place is," she said. "Stop tensing up."
"Monterey?"
"Yeah. What've you got against Monterey, hmm? Have a bad time at a music festival?"
"No," I backpedaled, fast, not wanting to appear ungrateful. "It's just a surprise. I didn't realize we were, umm … Monterey. Okay."
Lisa sighed and pulled off the road. Dust flew and stones pinged off the Jeep. (Jackson wouldn't be pleased.) She turned to face me, resting an elbow on the top of the passenger seat, boxing me in.
"Talk to me, friend," she said.
I opened my mouth and let it all tumble out. "I have a plan. I have some money put away. I was going to go someplace quiet for a couple of weeks until this blew over. You didn't have to put yourself out like this. I just need to get my stuff from back at the mansion and I can be out of your hair."
"Alright." She nodded. "Well, we're here now and I'd like to go check out my place for a couple of days. So why don't you come with me? Just as friends. No big deal. It's Friday now, the lawyers said they'd have the new papers sent to us Monday. We'll sign them. I've got a show Tuesday night back in LA. If you want you can lie low at the house for a few weeks till things calm down. Sound like a plan? We spend the weekend together then go our separate ways. All sorted."
It did sound like a solid idea. But still, I deliberated for a second. Apparently, it was a second too long.
"You worried about spending the weekend with me or something? Am I that scary?" Her gaze held mine, our faces a bare hand's breadth apart. Dark hair fell around her perfect face. For a moment I almost forgot to breathe. I didn't move. I couldn't. Outside a motorcycle roared past then all fell quiet again.
Was she scary? The woman had no idea.
"No," I lied, throwing in some scoff for good measure.
I don't think she believed me. "Listen, I'm sorry about acting like a creep back in LA."
"It's okay, really, Lisa. This situation would do anyone's head in."
"Tell me something," she said in a low voice. "You remembered about getting the tat. Anything else come back to you?"
Reliving my drunken rampage wasn't somewhere I wanted to go. Not with her. Not with anyone. I was paying the consequences by having my life upended and splashed about on the internet. Ridiculous, given nothing in my past was even mildly sordid. Well, apart from the back seat of Kai's parents' car. "Does this even matter? I mean, isn't it a bit late to be having this conversation?"
"Guess so." She shifted back in her seat and put a hand on the wheel. "You need to stretch your legs or anything?"
"A restroom would be great."
"No worries."
We pulled back out onto the road and silence ensued for several minutes. She'd turned off the stereo sometime while I slept. The quiet was awkward now and it was all my doing. Guilt sucked first thing in the morning. It probably didn't improve later in the day, but first up, without even a drop of caffeine to fortify me, it was horrible. She'd been nice to me, trying to talk, and I'd shut her down.
"Most of that night is still a blur," I said.
She lifted a couple of fingers off the steering wheel in a little wave. Such was the sum total of her response.
I took a deep breath, fortifying myself to go further. "I remember doing shots at midnight. After that, it's hazy. I remember the sound of the needle at the tattoo parlor, us laughing, but that's about it. I've never blacked out in my life. It's scary."
"Yeah," she said quietly.
"How did we meet?"
She exhaled hard. "Ah, me and a group of people were leaving to go to another club. One of the girls wasn't looking where she was going, bumped into a cocktail waitress. Apparently the waitress was new or something and she crashed her tray. Luckily, it was only a couple of empty beer bottles."
"How did I get involved?"
She darted me a glance, taking her eyes off the road for a moment. "Some of them started giving the poor waitress shit, telling her they were going to get her fired. You just swooped in and handed them their asses."
"I did?"
"Oh, yeah." She licked her lips, the corner of her mouth curling. "Told them they were evil, pretentious, overpriced assholes who should watch where they were walking. You helped the girl pick up the beer bottles and then you insulted my friends some more. It was pretty fucking classic, actually. I can't remember everything you said. You got pretty creative with the insults by the end."
"Huh. And you liked me for that?"
She shut her mouth and said nothing. A whole wide world of nothing. Nothing could actually cover a lot of ground when you put that much effort into it.
"What happened next?" I asked.
"Security came over to throw you out. Not like they were gonna argue with the rich kids."
"No. I guess not."
"You looked panicky so I got you out of there."
"You left your friends for me?" I watched her in amazement.
She did a one-shoulder shrug. As if it meant nil.
"What then?"
"We took off and had a drink in another bar."
"I'm surprised you stuck with me." Stunned was closer.
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked. "You treated me like a normal person. We just talked about everyday stuff. You weren't angling to get anything out of me. You didn't act like I was a different fucking species. When you looked at me it felt …"
"What?"
She cleared her throat. "I dunno. Doesn't matter."
"Yes, you do. And it does."
She groaned.
"Please?"
"Fuck's sake," she muttered, shifting around in the driver's seat all uncomfortable-like. "It felt real, okay? It felt right. I don't know how else to explain it."
I sat in stunned silence for a moment. "That's a good way to explain it."
Suddenly, she got decidedly smirky. "Plus, I'd never been propositioned quite like that."
"Yeeeah. Okay, stop now." I covered my face with my hands and she laughed.
"Relax," She said. "You were very sweet."
"Sweet?"
"Sweet is not a bad thing."
She pulled the Jeep into a gas station, stopping in front of a pump. "Look at me."
I lowered my fingers.
Lisa stared back at me, beautiful face grinning. "You said that you thought I was a really nice girl. And that it would be great if we could go up to your room and have sex and just hang out for a while, if maybe that was something I'd be interested in doing."
"Ha. I have all the moves," I laughed. There might have been more embarrassing conversations in my life. Doubtful, though. Oh, good God, the thought of me trying out my smooth seduction routine on Lisa. She who had groupies and glamour models throwing themselves at her on a daily basis. If there'd been enough room under the car seat, I'd have hid down there. "What did you say?"
"What do you think I said?" Without taking her gaze off me she popped the glove box and pulled out a baseball cap. "Looks like the restrooms are around the side."
"This is so mortifying. Why couldn't you have forgotten too?"
She just looked at me. The smirk was long gone. For a long moment she held my gaze captive, unsmiling. The air in the car seemed to drop by about fifty degrees.
"I'll be right back," I said, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt.
"Sure."
I finally managed to unbuckle the stupid thing, heart galloping inside my chest. The conversation had gotten crazy heavy toward the end. It had caught me unawares. Knowing she'd stood up for me in Las Vegas, that she'd chosen me over her friends … it changed things. And it made me wonder what else I needed to know about that night.
"Wait." She rifled among the collection of sunglasses, pulled out a pair of designer aviator shades and handed them to me. "You're famous now too, remember?"
"My butt is."
She almost smiled. She fit the baseball cap to her head and rested an arm on the steering wheel. The tattoo of my name was right there, in all its glory. It was pink around the edges and some of the letters had small scabs on them. I wasn't the only one permanently marked by this.
"See you in a bit," she said.
"Right." I opened the door and slowly climbed out of the car. Tripping and landing on my ass in front of her must be avoided at all costs.
I saw to the necessities then washed my hands. The girl in the restroom mirror looked wild-eyed and then some. I splashed water on my face and did a little damage control on my hair. What a joke. This adventure I was on was undoing any and all attempts at keeping control. Me, my life, all of it seemed to be in a state of flux. That shouldn't have felt as strangely good as it did.
When I got back she was standing by the Jeep, signing an autograph for a couple of guys, one of whom was busy doing an enthusiastic air guitar performance. Lisa laughed and clapped him on the back and they talked for a couple of minutes more. She was kind, gracious. She stood smiling, chatting to them until she noticed me hovering nearby. "Thanks, guys. If you could keep this quiet for a couple of days I'd appreciate it, hey? We could do with a break from the fuss."
"No worries." One of the guys turned and grinned at me. "Congratulations. You're way prettier in person than in your pictures."
"Thanks." I waved a hand at them, not quite knowing what else to do.
Lisa winked at me and opened the passenger door for me to hop in.
The other man pulled out a cell phone and started snapping pictures. Lisa ignored him and jogged around to the other side of the vehicle. She didn't speak till we were back out on the road.
"It's not far now," She said. "We still going to Monterey?"
"Absolutely."
"Cool."
Hearing Lisa talk about our first meeting had put a new spin on things. That conversation had aroused my curiosity. That she'd chosen me to some degree that night … I don't think the possibility had occurred to me before. I'd figured we'd both let tequila do the thinking and somehow fallen into this mess together. I was wrong. There was more to the story. Much more. Lisa's reluctance to answer certain questions made me wonder.
I wanted answers. But I needed to tread carefully.
"Is it always like that for you?" I asked. "Being recognized? Having people approach you all the time?"
"They were fine. The crazies are a worry, but you handle it. It's part of my job. People like the music, so …"
A bad feeling crept through me. "You did tell me who you were that night, didn't you?"
"Yeah, of course I did." She gave me a snarky look, her brows bunched up.
My bad feeling crept away, only to be replaced by shame. "Sorry."
"Jen, I wanted you to know what the fuck you were getting into. You said you really liked me, but you weren't that keen on my band." She fiddled with the stereo, another half smile on her face. Soon some rock song I didn't know played quietly over the speakers. "You felt pretty bad about it, actually. You kept apologizing over and over. Insisted on buying me a burger and shake to make up for it."
"I just prefer country."
"Believe me, I know. And stop apologizing. You're allowed to like whatever the hell you want."
"Was it a good burger and shake?"
She gave me a one-shoulder shrug. "It was fine."
"I wish I remembered."
She snorted. "There's a first."
I don't know what exactly came over me. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make her smile. With a knee beneath me I pulled out a length of seatbelt, raised myself up and kissed her quick on the cheek. A surprise attack. Her skin was warm and smooth against my lips. The woman smelled so much better than she had any right to.
"What was that for?" she asked, shooting me a look out of the corner of her eyes.
"For getting me out of Portland and then LA. For talking to me about that night." I shrugged, trying to play it off. "For lots of things."
A little line appeared above the bridge of her nose. When she spoke, her voice was gruff. "Right. No problem."
Her mouth stayed shut and her hand went to her cheek, touching where I'd been. The frown-faced side-on looks continued for quite some time. Each one made me wonder a bit more if Lisa Manoban was just as scared of me as I was of her. This reaction was even better than a smile.
The log and stone house rose out of the trees, perched on the edge of a cliff. The place was awe-inspiring on a whole different level to the mansion back in LA. Below, the ocean went about its business of being spectacular.
Lisa climbed out of the car and walked up to the house, fiddling with a set of keys from her pocket. Next, she opened the front door, then stopped to punch numbers into a security system.
"You coming?" She yelled.
I lingered beside the car, looking up at the magnificent house. Her and me alone. Inside there. Hmm. Waves crashed on the rocks nearby. I swore I could hear the swell of an orchestral accompaniment not too far off in the distance. The place was decidedly atmospheric. And that atmosphere was pure romance.
"What's the problem?" Lisa came back down the stone path toward me.
"Nothing … I was just—"
"Good." She didn't stop. I didn't know what was going on until I found myself hanging upside down over her shoulder in a fireman's hold.
"Shit. Lisa!"
"Relax."
"You're going to drop me!"
"I'm not going to drop you. Stop squirming," she said, her arm pressing against the back of my legs. "Show some trust."
"What are you doing?" I battered my hands against the ass of her jeans.
"It's traditional to carry the bride across the threshold."
"Not like this."
She patted my butt cheek, the one with her name on it. "Why would we wanna start being conventional now, huh?"
"I thought we were just being friends."
"This is friendly. You should probably stop feeling my ass, though, or I'm gonna get the wrong idea about us. Especially after that kiss in the car."
"I'm not feeling your ass," I grumbled and stopped using her butt cheeks for a handhold. Like it was my fault the position left me no alternative but to hold onto her firm butt.
"Please, you're all over me. It's disgusting."
I laughed despite myself. "You put me over your shoulder, you idiot. Of course I'm all over you."
Up the steps we went, then onto the wide wooden patio and into the house. Hardwood floors in a rich brown and moving boxes, lots and lots of moving boxes. I couldn't see much else.
"This could be a problem," she said.
"What could be?" I asked, still upside down, my hair obscuring my view.
"Hang on." Carefully, she righted me, setting my feet on the floor. All the blood rushed from my head and I staggered. She grabbed my elbows, holding me upright.
"Okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. What's the problem?"
"I thought there'd be more furniture," she said.
"You've never been here before?"
"I've been busy."
Apart from boxes there were more boxes. They were everywhere. We stood in a large central room with a huge stone fireplace set in the far wall. You could roast a whole cow in the thing if you were so inclined. Stairs led to a second floor above and another level below this one. A dining room and open plan kitchen came next. The place was either floor to ceiling glass, neat lines of logs, or gray stonework. The perfect mix of old and new design techniques. It was stunning. But then all the places she lived in seemed to be.
I wondered what she'd make of my and Rosé's tiny, bedraggled apartment. A silly thought. As if she'd ever see it.
"At least they got a fridge." She pulled one of the large stainless steel doors open. Every inch of space inside had been packed with food and beverages. "Excellent."
"Who are 'they'?"
"Ah, the people that look after the place for me. Friends of mine. They used to look after it for the previous owner, too. I rang them, asked them to sort some stuff out for us." She pulled out a Corona and popped the lid. "Cheers."
I smiled, bemused. "For breakfast?"
"I've been awake for two days. I want a beer then I want a bed. Man, I hope they thought to get a bed." Beer in hand, she ambled back through the lounge and up the stairs. I followed, curious.
She pushed open one bedroom door after another. There were four all up and each had its own bathroom because cool, rich people clearly couldn't share. At the final door at the end of the hall she stopped and sagged with relief. "Thank fuck for that."
A kingdom of a bed made up with clean, white sheets waited within. And a couple more boxes.
"What's with all the boxes?" I asked. "Did they only get one bed?"
"Sometimes I buy stuff on my travels. Sometimes people give me stuff. I've just been sending it all here for the last few years. Take a look if you want. And yes, there's only one bed." She took another swig of beer. "You think I'm made of money?"
I huffed out a laugh. "Says the girl who got Cartier to open so I could pick out a ring."
"You remember that?" She smiled around the bottle of beer.
"No, I just assumed given what time of night it must have been." I wandered over to the wall of windows. Such an amazing view.
"You tried to pick some shitty little thing. I couldn't believe it." She stared at me, but her gaze was distant.
"I threw the ring at the lawyers."
She flinched and studied her shoes. "Yeah, I know."
"I'm sorry. They just made me so mad."
"Lawyers do that." She took another swig of the beer. "Jack said you took a swing at him."
"I missed."
"Probably for the best. He's an idiot but he means well."
"Yeah, he was really kind to me." Crossing my arms I checked out the rest of her big bedroom, wandering into the bathroom. The Jacuzzi would have made Jack's curl up in shame. The place was sumptuous. Yet again the feeling of not belonging, of not fitting in with the décor, hit me hard.
"That's some heavy frown, friend," she said.
I attempted a smile. "I'm just still trying to figure things out. I mean, is that why you took the plunge in Vegas? Because you're unhappy? And apart from Jack you're surrounded by jerks?"
"Fuck." She let her head fall back. "Do we have to keep talking about that night?"
"I'm just trying to understand."
"No," she said. "It wasn't that, okay?"
"Then what?"
"We were in Vegas, Jen. Shit happens."
I shut my mouth.
"I don't mean …" She wiped a hand across her face. "Fuck. Look, don't think it was just all drinking and partying and that's the only reason anything happened. Why we happened. I wouldn't want you to think that."
I flailed. It seemed the only proper response. "But that's what I do think. That's exactly what I think. That's the only way this fits together in my head. When a girl like me wakes up married to a girl like you, what else can she possibly think? God, Lisa, look at you. You're beautiful, rich, and successful. Your brother was right, this makes no sense."
She turned on me, face tight. "Don't do that. Don't run yourself down like that."
I just sighed.
"I'm serious. Don't you ever give what that asshole said another thought, understood? You are not nothing."
"Then give me something. Tell me what it was like between us that night."
She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. "Nah. I don't want to dredge it all up, you know, water under the bridge or whatever. I just don't want you thinking that the whole night was some alcohol-fueled frenzy or something, that's all. Honestly, you didn't even seem that drunk most of it."
"Lisa, you're hedging. Come on. It's not fair that you remember and I don't."
"No," she said, her voice hard, cold, in a way I hadn't heard it. She loomed over me, jaw set. "It's not fair that I remember and you don't, Jennie."
I didn't know what to say.
"I'm going out." True to her word, she stormed out the door. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallway and back down the stairs. I stood staring after her.
I gave her a while to cool off then followed her out onto the beach. The morning light was blinding, clear blue skies all the way. It was beautiful. Salty sea air cleared my head a little. Lisa's words raised more questions than they answered. Puzzling that night out consumed my thoughts. I'd reached two conclusions. Both worried me. The first was that the night in Vegas was special to her. My prying or trivializing the experience upset her. The second was, I suspected, she hadn't been all that drunk. It sounded like she knew exactly what she was doing. In which case, how the hell must she have felt the next morning? I'd rejected her and our marriage out of hand. She must have been heart-sore, humiliated.
There'd been good reasons for my behavior. I'd still, however, been incredibly thoughtless. I didn't know Lisa then. But I was beginning to now. And the more we talked, the more I liked her.
Lisa sat on the rocks with a beer in hand, staring out to sea. A cool ocean wind tossed her long hair about. The fabric of her T-shirt was drawn tight across her broad back. She had her knees drawn up with an arm wrapped around them. It made her seem younger than she was, more vulnerable.
"Hi," I said, squatting beside her.
"Hey." Eyes squinted against the sun, she looked up at me, face guarded.
"I'm sorry for pushing."
She nodded, stared back out at the water. "S'okay."
"I didn't mean to upset you."
"Don't worry about it."
"Are we still friends?"
She huffed out a laugh. "Sure."
I sat down next to her, trying to figure out what to say next, what would set things right between us. Nothing I could think of saying was going to make up for Vegas. I needed more time with her. The ticking clock of the annulment papers grew louder by the minute. It unnerved me, thinking our time would be cut short. That it would soon all be over and I wouldn't see or talk to her again. That I wouldn't get to figure out the puzzle that was us. My skin grew goose pimples from more than the wind.
"Shit. You're cold," she said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer against her.
And I got closer, happily. "Thanks."
She put down the beer bottle, wrapping both arms around me. "Should probably get you inside."
"In a bit." My thumbs rubbed over my fingers, fidgeting. "Thank you for bringing me here. It's a lovely place."
"Mm."
"Lisa, really, I'm so sorry."
"Hey." she put a finger beneath my chin, raising it. The anger and hurt was gone, replaced by kindness. She gave me one of her little shrugs. "Let's just let it go."
The idea actually sent me into a panic. I didn't want to let go of her. The knowledge was startling. I stared up at her, letting it sink in. "I don't want to."
She blinked. "Alright. You want to make it up to me?"
I doubted we were talking about the same thing, but I nodded anyway.
"I've got an idea."
"Shoot."
"Different things can jog your memory, right?"
"I guess so," I said.
"So if I kiss you, you might remember what we were like together."
I stopped breathing. "You want to kiss me?"
"You don't want me to kiss you?"
"No," I said quickly. "I'm okay with you kissing me."
She bit back a smile. "That's very kind of you."
"And this kiss is for the purposes of scientific research?"
"Yep. You want to know what happened that night and I don't really want to talk about it. So, I figure, easier all round if you can maybe remember some of it yourself."
"That makes sense."
"Excellent."
"How far did we go that night?"
Her gaze dropped to the neck of my tank top and the curves of my breasts. "Second base."
"Shirt on?"
"Off. We were both topless. Topless cuddles are best." She watched as I absorbed the information, her face close to mine.
"Bra?"
"Absolutely not."
"Oh." I licked my lips, breathing hard. "So, you really think we should do this?"
"You're overthinking it."
"Sorry."
"And stop apologizing."
My mouth opened to repeat the sentiment but I snapped it shut.
"S'okay. You'll get the hang of it."
My brain stuttered and I stared at her mouth. She had the most beautiful mouth, with full lips that pulled up slightly at the edges. Stunning.
"Tell me what you're thinking," she said.
"You said not to think. And honestly, I'm not."
"Good," she said, leaning even closer. "That's good."
Her lips brushed against mine, easing me into it. Soft but firm, with no hesitation. Her teeth toyed with my bottom lip. Then she sucked on it. She didn't kiss like the boys I knew, though I couldn't exactly define the difference. It was just better and … more. Infinitely more. Her mouth pressed against mine and her tongue slipped into my mouth, rubbing against mine. God, she tasted good. My fingers slid into her hair as if they'd always wanted to. She kissed me until I couldn't remember anything that had come before. None of it mattered.
Her hand slid around the nape of my neck, holding me in place. The kiss went on and on. She lit me up from top to toe. I never wanted it to end.
She kissed me 'til my head spun and I hung on for dear life. Then she pulled back, panting, and set her forehead against mine once again.
"Why did you stop?" I asked when I could form a coherent sentence. My hands pulled at her, trying to bring her back to my mouth.
"Shh. Relax." She took a deep breath. "Did you remember something? Anything about that familiar to you?"
My kiss-addled mind came up blank. Damn it. "No. I don't think so."
"That's a pity." A ridge appeared between her brows. The dark smudges beneath her beautiful blue eyes seemed to have darkened. I'd disappointed her again. My heart sunk.
"You look tired," I said.
"Yeah. Might be time to get some shut-eye." She planted a quick kiss of my forehead. Was it a friend's kiss or more? I couldn't tell. Maybe it, too, was just for scientific purposes.
"We tried, huh?" she said.
"Yeah. We did."
She rose to her feet, collecting her beer bottle. Without her to warm me the breeze blew straight through me, shaking my bones. It was the kiss though that had really shaken me. It had blown my ever-lovin' mind. To think, I'd had a night of kisses like that and forgotten it. I needed a brain transplant at the earliest convenience.
"Do you mind if I come with you?" I asked.
"Not at all." She held out a hand to help me to my feet.
Together, we wandered back up to the house, up the stairs into the master bedroom. I tugged off my shoes as Lisa dealt with her own footwear. We lay down on the mattress, not touching. Both of us staring at the ceiling like there might be answers there.
I kept quiet. For all of about a minute. My mind was wide awake and babbling at me. "I think I understand a little better now how we ended up married."
"Do you?" She turned her head to face me.
"Yes." I'd never been kissed like that before. "I do."
"C'mere." A strong arm encircled my waist, dragging me into the centre of the bed.
"Lisa." I reached for her with a nervous smile. More than ready for more kisses. More of her.
"Lie on your side," She said, her hands maneuvering me until she lay behind me. One arm slipped beneath my neck and the other was slung over my waist, pulling me in closer against her. Her hips fit against my butt perfectly.
"What are we doing?" I asked, bewildered.
"Spooning. We did it that night for a while. Until you felt sick."
"We spooned?"
"Yep," she said. "Stage two in the memory rehab process, spooning. Now go to sleep."
"I only woke up an hour ago."
She pressed her face into my hair and even threw a leg over mine for good measure, pinning me down. "Bad luck. I'm tired and I wanna spoon. With you. And the way I figure it, you owe me. So we're spooning."
"Got it."
Her breath warmed the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
"Relax. You're all tense." Her arms tightened around me.
After a moment, I picked up her left hand, running the pads of my fingers over her calluses. Using her for my fidget toy. The tips of her fingers were hard. There was also a ridge down her thumb and another slight one along the bottom of her fingers where they joined the palm of her hand. She obviously spent a lot of time holding guitars. On the back of her fingers the word Free had been tattooed. On her right hand was the word Live. I couldn't help but wonder if marriage would impinge on that freedom. Japanese-style waves and a serpentine dragon covered her arm, the colors and detail impressive.
"Tell me about your major," she said. "You're doing architecture, right?"
"Yes," I said, a little surprised she knew. I'd obviously told her in Vegas. "My dad's one."
She meshed her fingers with mine, putting the kibosh on my fidgeting.
"Did you always want to play guitar?" I asked, trying not to get too distracted by the way she was wrapped around me.
"Yeah. Music's the only thing that ever really made sense to me. Can't imagine doing anything else."
"Huh." It must be nice, having something to be so passionate about. I liked the idea of being an architect. Many of my childhood games had involved building blocks or drawing. But I didn't feel driven to do it, exactly. "I'm pretty much tone deaf."
"That explains a lot." She chuckled.
"Be nice. I was never particularly good at sports either. I like drawing and reading and watching movies. And I like to travel, not that I've done much of it."
"Yeah?"
"Mm."
She shifted behind me, getting comfortable. "When I travel it's always about the shows. Doesn't leave much time for looking around."
"That's a pity."
"And being recognized can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Now and then, it gets ugly. There's a fair bit of pressure on us and I can't always do what I want. Truth is, I'm kind of ready to slow things down, hang out at home more."
I said nothing, turning her words over inside my head.
"The parties get old after a while. Having people around all the damn time."
"I bet." And yet, back in LA she'd still had a groupie hanging off her, cooing at her every word. Obviously parts of the lifestyle still appealed. Parts that I wasn't certain I could compete with even if I wanted to. "Won't you miss some of it?"
"Honestly, it's all I've done for so damn long, I don't know."
"Well, you have a gorgeous home to hang out in."
"Hmm." She was quiet for a moment. "Jen?"
"Yeah?"
"Was being an architect your idea or your dad's?"
"I don't remember," I admitted. "We've always talked about it. My brother was never interested in taking up the mantle. He was always getting into fights and skipping class."
"You said you had a tough time at high school too."
"Doesn't everyone?" I wriggled around, turned over so I could see her face. "I don't usually talk about that with other people."
"We talked about it. You said you got picked on because of your size. I figured that's what set you off with my friends. The fact that they were bullying that girl like a pack of fucking school kids."
"I guess that would do it." The teasing wasn't a subject I liked to raise. Too easily, it bought back all of the crappy feelings associated with it. Lisa's arms didn't allow for any of that to slip through, however. "Most of the teachers just ignored it. Like it was an extra hassle they didn't need. But there was this one teacher, Miss Hall. Any time they started in on me or one of the other kids she'd intercede. She was great."
"She sounds great. But you didn't really answer my question. Do you want to be an architect?"
"Well, it's what I've always planned to do. And I, ah, I like the idea of designing someone's home. I don't know that being an architect is my divine calling, like music is for you, but I think I could be good at it."
"I'm not doubting that, baby," she said, her voice soft but definite.
I tried not to let the endearment reduce me to a soggy mess on the mattress. Subtlety was the key. I'd hurt her in Vegas. If I was serious about this, about wanting her to give us another go, I needed to be careful. Give her good memories to replace the bad. Memories we could both share this time.
"Jen, is it what you want to do with your life?"
I stopped. Having already trotted out the standard responses, extra thought was required. The plan had been around for so long I didn't tend to question it. There was safety and comfort to be had there. But Lisa wanted more and I wanted to give it to her. Maybe this was why I'd spilled my secrets to her in Vegas. Something about this woman drew me in and I didn't want to fight it. "Honestly, I'm not sure."
"That's okay, you know." Her gaze never shifted from mine. "You're only twenty-one."
"But I'm supposed to be an adult now, taking responsibility for myself. I'm supposed to know these things."
"You've been living with your friend for a few years, yeah? Paying your own bills and doing your classes and all that?"
"Yes."
"Then how are you not taking responsibility for yourself?" She tucked her long dark hair behind an ear, getting it out of her face. "So you start out in architecture and see how you go."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is. You either stick with that or try something else, see how it works for you. It's your life. Your call."
"Do you only play guitar?" I asked, wanting to know more about her. Wanting the topic of conversation to be off me. The knot of tension building inside me was not pleasant.
"No." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth—she knew exactly what I was about. "Bass and drums, too. Of course."
"Of course?"
"Anyone passable at guitar can play bass if they put their mind to it. And anyone who can pick up two sticks at the same time can play drums. Be sure to tell Jack I said that next time you see him, yeah? He'll get a kick out of that."
"You got it."
"And I sing."
"You do?" I asked, getting excited. "Will you sing something for me? Please?"
She made a noncommittal noise.
"Did you sing to me that night?"
She gave me a small pained smile. "Yeah, I did."
"So it might bring back a memory."
"You're going to use that now, aren't you? Anytime you want something you're going to throw it at me."
"Hey, you started it. You wanted to kiss me for scientific purposes."
"It was for scientific purposes. A kiss between friends for reasons of pure logic."
"It was a very friendly kiss, Lisa."
A lazy smile lit her face. "Yes, it was."
"Please sing me something?"
"Okay," she huffed. "Turn back around then. We were in spoon position for this."
I snuggled back down against her and she shuffled closer. Being Lisa's cuddle toy was a wonderful thing. I couldn't imagine anything better. Pity she was sticking with the scientific rationale. Not that I could blame her. If I were her, I'd be wary of me.
Her voice washed over me, deep, rough in the best way possible as she sang the ballad.
I've got this feeling that comes and goes
Ten broken fingers and one broken nose
Dark waters very cold
I know I'll make it home
This sorry sun has burned the sky
She's out of touch and she's very high
Her bed was made of stone
I know I'll break her throne
These aching bones won't hold me up
My swollen shoes they have had enough
These smokestacks burn them down
This ocean let it drown
When she finished I was quiet. She gave me a squeeze, probably checking I was still alive. I squeezed her arms right back, not turning over so she couldn't see the tears in my eyes. The combination of her voice and the moody ballad had undone me. I was always making a mess of myself around her, crying or puking. Why she wanted anything to do with me, I had no idea.
"Thank you," I said.
"Anytime."
I lay there, trying to decipher the lyrics. What it might mean that she'd chosen that song to sing to me. "What's it called?"
"'Homesick.' I wrote it for the last album." She rose up on one elbow, leaning over to check out my face. "Shit, I made you sad. I'm sorry."
"No. It was beautiful. Your voice is amazing."
She frowned but lay back down, pressed her chest against my spine. "I'll sing you something happy next time."
"If you like." I pressed my lips to the back of her hand, to the veins tracing across, and the dusting of dark hair. "Lisa?"
"Hmm?"
"Why don't you sing in the band? You have such a great voice."
"I do back-up. Jimmy loves the limelight. It was always more his thing." Her fingers twined with mine. "He wasn't always the asshole he is now. I'm sorry he hassled you in LA. I could have killed him for saying that shit."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. He was off his face. He didn't have a fucking clue what he was talking about." Her thumb moved restlessly over my hand. "You're gorgeous. You don't need to change a thing."
I didn't know what to say at first. Jimmy had said some horrible things and it had stayed with me. Funny how the bad stuff always did.
"I've both puked and cried on you. Are you entirely sure about that?" I joked, finally.
"Yes," she said simply. "I like you the way you are, blurting out whatever shit crosses your mind. Not trying to play me, or use me. You're just … being with me. I like you."
I lay there speechless for a moment, taken aback. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Anytime, Jennie. Anytime at all."
"I like you too."
Her lips brushed against the back of my neck. Shivers raced across my skin. "Do you?"
"Yes. Very much."
"Thanks, baby."
It took a long time for her breathing to even out. Her limbs got heavier and she stilled, asleep against my back. My foot went fuzzy with pins and needles but never mind. I hadn't slept with anyone before, apart from the occasional platonic bed-sharing episode with Rosé. Apparently, sleeping was all I'd be doing today.
In all honesty, it felt good, lying next to her.
It felt right.