He takes a few steps forward towards the pile before leaning down and grabbing a magazine with him, Alex, and some girl on the cover. Alex is smiling at Andrew, and the girl has her hand resting on Alex’s shoulder.
“I remember this night.” He says as he flips open the tabloid, turning to the page holding more pictures. “You were already inside the club with Boston and Garrett, Alex spotted this girl,” he points to the woman in question, “backstage and had me invite her to come with us.“ He smiles down at the image, but the smile is sad. He rubs his thumb over a picture of the two of them together.
“I miss him.” He sighs sadly, his grief palpable. I pull the towel tighter around my chest, not sure what to do, how to comfort him.
“Me too.” I croak, my voice hoarse.
“How was he? The last night you saw him.” I ask softly. Alex’s bright blue eyes flash in front of me, the lazy smile he gave me, and the sadness I felt walking away from him. A deep exhale pulls me from the memory as Andrew hangs his head as he lets go of the magazine.
“I don’t remember.” He whispers, emotion clogging his throat. “I remember seeing him backstage after the concert, and then the rest of the night is a blur.” I hold my breath waiting for him to elaborate, to tell me what he does remember.
“We were backstage, the show had just ended, we were taking shots, celebrating, you know?” He side eyes me, meaning they were drinking and doing blow. “The girl I was with… are you sure you want to hear this?” He asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Do I? No. Should I? No. Am I going to anyway? Yup. Is it going to hurt even though he’s not mine? Like a stab wound.
I nod, rolling my bottom lip between my index and thumb.
“Okay. The girl I was with wanted to fool around so we went down the hall to the other greenroom, leaving Boston and Alex to their own devices. Alex was pissed I was getting pulled away, but I didn’t really care at that moment.” He lets out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “That’s the last time I saw him that I remember. I have no idea what he did after, if we were all back at the hotel together or if he went somewhere else. I’m a shit fucking friend.”
“You didn’t know.” I cry. “You didn’t know that was going to be the last time you saw him. You didn’t know the last time you spoke to him would be the last words he would say to you.” I sob lightly, tears burning my eyelids, my throat burns from the emotion creeping up. I don’t know if I’m crying for Andrew or for me, but I let the tears fall from my lashes.
“But that’s the way you’re supposed to live, that’s the way you’re supposed to treat people, like it might be the last time you see them.” His shoulders quake as a sob rips through his chest, so powerful I can feel it across the room. “I was so selfish, Tol, so fucking selfish, and now he’s gone, and I don’t get to tell him.”
“He knew. He knew you loved him.” I state, my feet carrying me forward, taking quick steps to reach him. I kneel down next to him, placing my arm around his shoulder and pull him into me. His head hits my shoulder as another sob breaks free from his chest. He wraps his arms around me, and we sit on the carpet of my living room surrounded by memories and miscommunications.
My fingers trails his spine as the last of the sobs subside. His arms are wrapped around me so tight, it feels like he’s gripping a life preserver, like if he lets go he will drown in his own grief and guilt. He has no reason to feel guilt, he had no idea that Alex would overdose that night. He had no idea that he wouldn’t see him the next morning. It’s weird to think that life will move on but won’t be the same. Our lives will have a new normal, a different outlook on the people around us and how quickly they can leave. You never get over the death of someone close to you, but you learn to live with it because that’s all you can do. Andrew lifts his head from my shoulder, his eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks tear stained, and in all the times I’ve ever seen him, he’s never looked so beautifully broken.
“I’m going to kiss you.” He rasps, his voice broken from the sobs. “I need to feel your lips against mine.”
Without another word, and before he can, I grab his face with both hands and place my lips against his. The saltiness of our tears mixing together is the only thing I taste as his mouth opens to mine. A kiss that started out innocent quickly becomes ravenous, a mixture of tongues and teeth and lips moving in synchronicity. The towel that was holding the remains of my modesty falls from my chest as I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer to me. I pull this body with mine onto the floor, the carpet scratches against my bare skin as my back hits the ground. His mouth leaves mine, finding the tender flesh of my neck, his breath skating against my ear before his teeth sink into my earlobe.
“Please.” I beg as his hands move across my rib cage.
“Please what? What do you want me to do?” He whispers against the shell of my ear.
“Make me come.” I say, as wetness pools in my center. I can feel my juices coating my inner thighs.
“Mouth, fingers or cock?” He whispers again as his hand moves lower, tracing the dip of my hips. The roughness of the pads of his fingers from his guitar drives me wild.
“Mouth.” I moan, bucking my hips slightly, trying to get his attention to the right spot.
“I hoped you would say that. I’ve been dying to taste you.” Andrew says, scooting his body down mine, leaving hot open mouth kisses in his pursuit. My center throbs, my heartbeat thrumming against my clit, and I want to squeeze my legs together to relieve the pressure there, but his large body sits between my open knees. He leans back on his heels, his eyes appraise me appreciatively. He smiles down at me, his white teeth on full display. I feel vulnerable and praised under his gaze, the combination of the two making my skin heat.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, his voice low. I can see his erection bulging against the zipper of his still wet jeans. I smile at his compliment, the ‘thank you’ I should say clogged in my throat. His body lowers to the carpet as he throws one of my thighs over his shoulder, opening me up further to him. His mouth hovers over my pelvis, and his eyes lock with mine as he inhales deeply through his nose.
“You smell fucking delicious.” He growls before dropping his mouth to my aching center. At the first contact of his tongue against my clit, I jump, it’s been so damn long since anyone has had their mouth anywhere near my sex.
“Sorry,” I say embarrassed, “it’s been a while.” I look away from his face between my parted thighs.
“He didn’t-“ Andrew asks, his warm breath blanketing my wet floods, but he stops before the rest of the question leaves his mouth. Probably not wanting the answer. I shake my head no.
“Selfish prick,” he mutters under his breath, “you deserve to be worshiped. I would eat this gorgeous pussy for every meal of the goddamn day if you were mine.” Using two fingers he spreads my folds, the air hits my clit causing goosebumps to scatter across my heated skin. His mouth drops to the nub, and he sucks and swirls his tongue against the flesh. I feel like I have a fever, the hot and cold shivers hitting me over and over again as my orgasm shifts from a whisper to a scream in my head. I can feel the wave starting to crest, my hands finding my heavy breasts. My nipples harden further at my touch as I massage the tight buds.
“Oooohhh shit.” I moan into the empty space, my back bows as I try to push myself further against his mouth. His tongue leaves my clit, and I could scream in frustration, but just as I’m about to tell him to get back to work, I’m blessed with two fingers plunging deep inside my channel. His fingers scrape against my walls deliciously as his tongue finds my clit again. My lower stomach pulls as my muscles lock, and I fall over the edge into bliss. Wave after wave hits me, my eyes fluttering closed as a low moan leaves me. It’s been too long, I’ve missed the way he pulls an orgasm from me like no one else has ever been able to.
When the aftershocks subside, Andrew pulls away from between my legs, his chin glistening with the after effects of my orgasm, and I almost combust when he puts both of his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. Jesus, why is that so hot? Like he can’t get enough of me, he has to lick his fingers to make sure he doesn’t miss a drop. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I watch in awe as he finishes cleaning his fingers. Andrew’s eyes hold mine as his hands fall to the top button of his jeans, and once the zipper is down, he pulls his dick out of the confines of his boxers like zookeepers pull snakes from cages. My mind wanders back to me on my knees in front of him last night, his length in my mouth, hitting the back of my throat repeatedly. My mouth waters at the memory longing to taste him again.
“You want my cock?” He questions, giving himself a slow tug. The engorged tip leaks pre-cum onto my stomach. I watch mesmerized as he pinches the tip and smears the liquid across my lower stomach. I bite my lower lip, squelching the moan that wants to break free.
“I need words, baby.” He growls as his eyes study my face. I know for a fact this is a terrible idea, that it will only complicate things between us further, but right now, I need to feel him, I need the connection. Don’t overthink it, I tell myself, nodding slightly. He cocks an eyebrow at me, a reminder that head movements will not suffice.