Chapter 14

CRAWLEY WAS DETERMINED TO GO THROUGH with band practice no matter how awkward things were between herself and Phil. She was positively radiant, her soft brown skin glowing and her almond shaped eyes full of vigor. After a week of off and on crying she was tired of looking frumpy. She had her long hair drawn up, as she often did to avoid pulling a Van Halen—getting one’s hair stuck in the strings of one’s own instrument, as the legendary guitarist had once done on stage. It was done up in a bun of sorts, low on the back of her head with a good deal of length still dangling past her shoulders. She was wearing a tank top with a cobalt and sepia pattern of roses on thorny vines, and tight black jeans adorned her hips.

Her mind drifted back to the day after the party. That had been very miserable, indeed. Most of her friends on social media were connected to Phil’s in one way or another, so literally everyone she knew online had now seen the snapshot. The snapshot of another woman with her head in Phil’s lap.

Phil had called her, of course, and offered his excuses and explanations. Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t been such a jerk, if they hadn’t had that nasty fight, she might have forgiven him. As it stood, she felt so betrayed and humiliated that his words rang hollow, even though she suspected—hoped—they were true.

And even if he was telling the truth, and she was the aggressor, why was he in the car with her in the first place? Part of being in a relationship was keeping yourself out of situations that might make you stray. Not that she would dream of cheating on Phil, but she could find some drunk to go home with too…

She forced herself to relax, driving the miserable feelings back and fencing them in as best she could. Then she flung open the door and stepped inside, careful not to bang Molly on the frame.

“Hey, guys,” Crawley said, giving hugs to Sven and Rex. She struggled with her amp until Rex took it from her. She unslung Molly from her shoulder and let it carefully down on the couch, just as she had done twenty times before. “I have to go and get some stuff out of the car.”

Her high heeled leather boots clacked on the concrete as she headed back down the walk. Rex approached Phil, coming over to his side and patting him on the shoulder. Crawley winced as their voices easily carried to her ears.

“Sorry, buddy, that was pretty cold.”

“Ja,” Sven said, “she’s not even making with the eye contact.”

“She hates my guts,” Phil said, “and I deserve it. I have to man up and deal with the fact that I screwed myself out of something good. God, Rich is going to be all over her.”

“Probably,” Rex said.

“Ja.”

“Man, that creep…do we have to practice with him? Can’t we find someone else, anyone else?”

Crawley’s nose wrinkled in disgust. John had been a perfectly capable bassist, while Rich could hardly pick out a tune. If only the bouncer hadn’t had to work on their practice nights.

“Look,” Rex said, going to the door and watching as Crawley struggled with two paper grocery bags, “I told him if he can keep up and learn the songs, we’d give him a chance. He’s not horrible, he knows how to play…kind of.”

“He is horrible,” Phil said, going to help Crawley with her burden.

“Ja, but so were we all once.”

“Not you, Sven,” Rex said. “How a motherfucker who can’t order a goddamn Big Mac at the drive-through because his accent is so thick can sing as beautifully as you do is a fucking miracle. You must have an extra head, like that guy in that alien movie.”

“Men in Black?” Sven said.

“No,” Rex said, shaking his head and scrunching up his brow, “it had Will Smith in it, and Tommy Lee Jones, old leather face himself. There were aliens, and they were government guys or some shit…”

“Men in Black,” Sven growled.

“No,” Rex said, stifling a grin and striving to remain deadpan, “not that one. Will Smith had a song that went with the movie, they are the…something, something.”

“Men in Black!” Sven shouted, grabbing Rex around the collar and picking him up off his feet.

“Whoa,” Rex said, finding it difficult to escape when he was laughing so hard, “settle it down, Swede Kong!”

“Hey,” Phil said, taking one of the paper bags from Crawley’s arms. He managed a weak smile.

“Hello, Phillip,” Crawley said, somewhat stiffly. “Thank you.”

“Listen, I know you’re sick of hearing it, but I really was just heading back to her place to help with a spread—”

“You’re right.” She felt guilty satisfaction at the way he wilted. “I am sick of hearing your excuses. We’re on a break, now let’s just drop it and have practice.”

Phil examined the contents of the bag, blinking back tears. Crawley almost…almost felt herself cave, to tell him he was forgiven. It was true that she ached for his presence.

“You brought booze? And what’s the rest of this stuff?”

They moved past Sven and Rex as they continued their shenanigans, but Sven’s nose detected an aroma from one of the bags Crawley bore. He dropped Rex without a thought, releasing the man to land on his feet. Rex had his eyes closed and was red faced, mighty guffaws escaping his mouth.

“Is that barbecue?” Sven said, his mouth watering as he beheld the greasy paper bags within the larger plastic one.

“Sure is, big guy,” Crawley said.

“Honey mead?” Phil said, reading the cool dark glass bottle in his hands.

“Yeah, we were always talking about it, and you know I can’t stand beer…”

“She brought food and booze,” Rex said, recovering from his hysterics. “She must be sucking up to us for some reason. Fess up, you want to do a Lady Gaga song or something, right?”

“No,” Crawley said, rolling her eyes, “I want to do my song.”

“You wrote a song?” Phil said incredulously.

“Yeah, we did have this conversation, right? About adding new music?”

“Ja, but then we never talked about it again.”

“Let’s take a look, Squirt,” Rex said, rifling through the bags and selecting a pulled pork sandwich for himself. “Is it in your fake book?”

“No,” Crawley said, digging in her purse for her tablet. “I’ve been putting all our new stuff on here. I can bring it up…”

She spend a few moments swiping at the screen after it blinked to life. Her fingers shook nervously, and her heart hammered in her chest. The fear of disapproval weighed heavily on her, but she believed in what she had written.

When at last she had pulled up the file, she handed it to Sven.

“You read sheet music, don’t you Sven?”

“Oh, ja,” Sven said. He squinted his blue eyes as he stared at the screen. His lips moved silently a moment, and then he sang softly.

“Don’t need you…Don’t need you in my life. That’s for sure.”

“No,” Crawley said, “more like this ‘Don’t need you! Don’t needyouinmylifethat’sforsure!”

“Whoa,” Phil said, “that’s a little up tempo for us, don’t you think?”

“We could make it work,” Rex said, rubbing his chin. “Crawley, why don’t you try singing it for us?”

“Oh, no,” Crawley said, swallowing hard, “I’m not a singer, I can barely do back up—”

“Oh, it’s not that hard,” Rex said, gesturing at Sven. “If this defrosted Neanderthal can do it, anyone can!”

“Ouch,” Sven said, wincing as if the comment had hurt, “you are racist. I will open up the can of ass whip on your Nazi dick!”

All of his friends exploded into laughter.

“Sven, honey,” Crawley said, putting a hand on his arm, “I’d explain everything wrong with that sentence to you, but I’m afraid I would die laughing.”

Rex set up a microphone and practically dragged the little Asian woman out in front of it.

“I need Molly.” Her movements were jittery as she prepared the instrument and stepped in front of her audience of three. She took a deep breath, summoning up the state of mind she had been in when she had written the song, the day after Phil’s indiscretion. Her eyes closed, and when they opened, they burned with inner fire.

The pick strummed down hard, hitting all the strings. Crawley’s right hand flew over the frets, shaping the feedback into an aggressive rift with definite hard rock overtones. They were taken aback by the display, used to the more dulcet tones of their cover songs.

She changed to a much simpler chord so she could concentrate on the words. Eschewing the tablet that Sven tried to hold up for her, she ripped into the lyrics.

Don’t need you!
Don’t need you in my life that’s for sure!
Don’t need you!
Don’t you come creeping round by my door!
Put me down!
Don’t you trample my heart anymore!
Put me down,
Treat me like I’m your own little whore!

Crawley went into a solo that was both energetic and darkly uplifting. When she reached the hook, the refrain of the song, her voice was more hopeful.

I thought the world was ending, when you were just pretending,
To love me until it all burns down.
So through the air I’m soaring, new worlds that I’m exploring,
Until my true love can be found.

She stopped, her strings squealing as she abruptly ended the performance.

“That’s it, all that I have for now. Maybe repeat the first stanza and add some more—”

“Why’d you stop?” Rex said.

“That was great!” Sven said.

Phil’s mouth opened but did not work.

“Wasn’t that great, Phil?” Rex said, punching him in the arm.

“It was…” Phil said, “it was loud. Do we really want to play something that hard?”

“Oh, come on,” Sven said, “it was awesome, ja?”

“You really think so?” Crawley said, beaming.

“Yeah,” Rex said, “I can see us doing that. It needs some more work, as far as adding a bass line, maybe another line or two of lyrics, but it seems solid.”

“What about keyboard?” Phil said.

“Don’t seem like a keyboard kinda song,” Rex said.

“Anything you want to contribute is fine, Phillip,” Crawley said. “I’m sure we’ll all consider putting it in.”

Crawley felt a mix of guilt and glee at Phil’s downtrodden face, but she had to admit it was satisfying in either case.

The bellhop was clearly mesmerized by Autumn’s skimpy leather outfit. His eyes were big as dinner plates as he gawked at her curvaceous figure. Autumn didn’t have time to notice the attention, because she was busy mauling Steve’s mouth. Her hands clawed at his chest beneath the faux gold chains hanging from his neck. The bellhop cleared his throat several times, but they didn’t pause. Finally he got off on the floor just below theirs.

“I think we scared him off,” Autumn said as the bellhop beat a hasty retreat. Her lipstick was smudged, some of it on Steve’s mouth.

“You scared him, maybe.” Steve covered her mouth with his own once more. “I take it you liked my first outing as Pimpmaster S?”

“Oh God, Steve, it was…it was intense! I mean the lights, and the pyro and the people screaming…and you were amazing! No ring rust on my man!”

“You did pretty well yourself. Hit all your cues right on time.”

“Well, I thought I was gonna break a nail when I grabbed Hebrew He-Man’s boot to trip him up.”

“Poor baby.” Steve kissed her again, feeling the press of their semi-clad bodies.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open. They strode out quickly into the hallway, hands clasped. Steve used his free hand to dig out their key card from his pocket, while Autumn adjusted her skimpy top to keep her pierced nipple from showing.

Steve barely had the door open when Autumn practically tackled him. They stumbled inside the spacious suite. The kitchen area was just off the door, and the room opened up from there into a living room larger than Steve’s whole apartment. A big screen TV was tuned to a twenty four hour news station, though the volume was muted. A leather sofa with soft cushions and a massaging recliner sat adjacent.

“I need a shower,” Steve said when Autumn paused to slip out of her black lace thong.

“No, I want you like this, all sweaty and dirty…”

She wrapped her arms around his naked torso and nibbled on his neck. Steve’s hand slipped down her shoulders, over the lacing of her corset, and down to her rump. He grabbed her buttocks tightly and kneaded the pliant flesh.

“Should we go to the bed?” Autumn said as Steve’s hot mouth explored her neck and chest.

“No time,” Steve said in a low growl, sweeping her up onto his shoulder. Her legs kicked in mock struggle as he carried her into the living area. He sat her down on the sofa and squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t stop now,” she said, pushing him down to his back aggressively. “Once you start, there’s no going back!”

“You’re feisty tonight.” Steve lifted his hips so she could peel off his pants.

“I don’t know, seeing you throw that other guy around…I was wide open the whole time.”

“I’m sure all the horny teenage boys would have liked to have known that. They were eye humping you all night.”

Autumn swung her hips over and positioned herself so that her head was below his waist. Her nether lips were now just inches away from Steve’s face, and he breathed her scent in and felt his jealously slip away.

“What was I talking about?”

“I don’t know…maybe we should both find something else to do with our mouths?” Steve nodded, his mouth pursed. He lifted his chin and dove between her legs. Autumn gasped, careful not to scrape her teeth along his most delicate of skin. Their differing heights made getting a good rhythm going a problem at first, but Steve was able to prop his head and shoulders on the armrest of the sofa. Then they were perfectly aligned, pleasing one another as they best knew how. Eventually, Autumn had no choice but to come off of him and wail as her body was wracked with spasms. She collapsed on top of him, and they lay there for several moments, sweat mingling as they panted for air.

“Sorry I stopped early,” Autumn said, her mouth mumbling into his thigh.

“Early?” He patted her rump gently. “You were, uh, successful.”

“I noticed…I was just going for twice.”

“Well, now I’m in your debt, one orgasm to zero.”

“Pfft,” Autumn said, shifting around so they could lie chest to chest. She stared him in the eyes, chin propped up on a hand laid across his sternum. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” Steve said, his brow coming low over his blue eyes. “What’s this about?”

“I might not be able to go to Japan with you.”

“What? But you’ve always wanted to go! What’s the—”

“My dad and Brad will be in town that weekend, and we haven’t had much of a chance to see each other, since, well…”

“I understand.” Steve strove to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Is it really okay, or are you just saying that?”

“No, it’s really okay. I’ll be pretty jet lagged, and have to do some promo work, and have to find a place to work out, eat…It’ll be a working vacation anyway. All you’d do is watch me sleep.”

“Hey, I’m told those Candy Pain T-T-shirts were selling better than yours tonight. Don’t go getting a big head on me!”

“That’s the problem with this business, you kind of lose touch with reality, you know? It’s tempting to spend money as fast as you make it and pretend the party is never going to end, but Pop showed me the right way to do it. The people in your life are what’s important. Almost losing you, first to the Lupus, and then to, well…”

“To me being a bitch.”

“I was going to say fear, but now that you mention it…”

“Don’t talk like that to Candy Pain!” Autumn said, sitting up on him and putting her hands on her hips.

“Oh, I’m so scared.”

“You better be,” Autumn said, slapping him across the face. The hit was not hard, certainly he had been smacked harder in the ring by Hebrew He-Man, but it was more aggressive than Autumn usually was. He clapped a hand to his face, arched an eyebrow at the display.

“What was that for?”

“Oh, be a man.” Her gaze narrowed, angular brows coming low as she slipped into character. “Do as I say and you won’t be hurt, worm.”

Steve laughed, but he played along.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get hard.” She kissed him vigorously, biting his lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. “I want you inside me, now.”

“I’m getting there!”

“Do I have to do everything myself?” With a sneer, she reached back behind her. Steve gasped as she expertly handled him. The feel of her hands sliding over his flesh was amazing, and her aggression only seemed to add to the sensation. When he was ready, she lifted her hips and came down on him slowly. Her façade of stern implacability began to slip as she gyrated atop him. Steve put his hands up on her breasts, but she pushed them down to his sides. She leaned forward, using the leverage to get him as deeply inside as possible. When her body released its pent up tension, she reared up backward and let out a long, deep moan. She leaned against the back of the sofa, their bodies still interlocked.

“God, that was intense!”

“Silence, worm…”

“Looks like a good time to escape,” Steve said, rising to a sitting position. He threw his legs over the side of the sofa, keeping their intimate parts together the whole time, and arranged her facing him on his lap.

“Oh god…” Autumn nibbled on his shoulder and neck as she bounced up and down atop his lap. Steve’s hands slid down her glistening back, stopping when they reached her buttocks. He squeezed her soft rump tightly, using his grip to aid her own sinuous movements.

“Don’t…stop…worm!” Autumn’s voice was cut off with each bounce.

“You’re…not…in charge…anymore!”

Steve grabbed her hair near the back of her head and yanked firmly backward. Autumn gasped as her neck was arched back. He took her lips, tongue thrusting in possessively. Her hot breath mingled with his own, until she filled his lungs with an exultant scream. Their mouths parted and she collapsed sweating against him. Their breath came rapidly for a time as they cuddled, skin sliding on skin.

“No,” Autumn said as he tried to disengage their bodies, “let’s just stay like this for a while.”

“Yeah.” Steve wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

At moments like this one, Steve could almost banish his doubts. Autumn’s skin pressed against his own, their hearts beating inches from each other. But what would happen to him if she left again? If he was never able to feel her this close, her breath coming hot on his ear? It was almost too horrible to think about.

So he held her close, tried to think positively, but he couldn’t lose the feeling that he was holding a ticking time bomb in his arms. One that would destroy him utterly when it went off.