“I’m a huge fan.” He blurts taking Boston’s hand. Young musicians are my favorite people, I think to myself, they haven’t been jaded by the industry yet, and everyone they meet is someone they’ve looked up to. We were like that once, meeting our idols and crawling up the chain, link by link, but somewhere along the lines, we became oblivious to the people surrounding us and the knowledge they hold.
“I guess I don’t need to introduce myself,” Boston chuckles, releasing Alder’s hand. The boys fall into familiar conversation, Alder stays next to me as they talk. His shoulder touching mine has goosebumps rising against my skin. SHUT IT DOWN, Graham! This boy is not yours, he is too young, too whole, and way too nice.
My forte is apparently bad boys who play with my heart and do terribly delicious things to my body. I imagine sex with Alder, sure he’s cute, he looks like he’d be attentive, but I need more than that. I need the guy who’s going to push me past my breaking point, the guy whose hand around my neck makes my knees weak, and the guy who has no problem fucking me like I mean nothing to him. Rhyit’s face flashes in front of my face, his cocky smirk and quick head tilt when he knows he’s got me–hook line and sinker.
As if my thoughts conjure his appearance, Rhyit steps through the swarm of people and enters the pavilion. I watch for a moment as he steps under the shade and lifts his black Raybans. His eyes are zeroed in on Alder, me, and the place where our arms are touching. His lips purse, and I can see the muscle in his jaw tick as he takes a step forward announcing his presence without saying a word. Boston looks away from Alder to Rhyit, who’s still staring holes into Alder’s arm. Feeling the tension in the room, I side step, attempting to create some space between Alder and I.
Alder notices my movement and then the fact that Boston is no longer looking at him but behind him. Alder turns slowly to see who joined the party.
“Rhyit, hey man! How’s it going?” Alder welcomes him.
“Good, you?” Rhyit answers, his jaw never unlocking.
“Pretty good man, caught your drummer here before she hit the ground.” Alder pulls me into his side, and I want to warn him that my…Rhyit is a possessive asshole and will knock his two front teeth into his face.
“Really?“ he asks, his focus jumping to me as I wiggle my way out of Alder’s hold. He isn’t asking Alder though, he’s asking me.
“I was looking for you.” I say. “I was standing on the chair and my foot got caught. Alder caught me before I hit the ground.”
“Well I guess it was a good thing he was here.” He smiles, his white teeth on display. “Come here.” He says lightly, it’s a request not a demand, but I kind of wish it was a demand. I extricate myself from Alder and take the two steps to Rhyit. When I’m within grabbing range, he pulls me into him, my chest hitting his stomach with a resounding oof, and his arms wrap tight around me.
“I’m glad you’re safe.” He murmurs, and the guys go back to their conversation, but I don’t miss the jealousy that passes over Alder’s face. Once they’re distracted, Rhyit leans down to my ear, I can feel his hot breath against the thin shell of my ear.
“It makes me murderous to see someone else touch you,” he hisses. “You’re mine, baby, always have been, always will be. You’re going to have to let your puppy go to a new family.” His teeth graze my earlobe, and my knees go a little weak. The puppy comment reminds me of the night in LA where I threated to let Alder…nevermind.
“But what if I wanted a puppy?” I mock pout against his chest; he smells divine, and I inhale deeply.
“Puppies need training, baby, they have a tendency to stray and run away. I’m all trained up, best in fucking show.” I can feel his smile against my ear.
“Yeah, your chewing shit up and ending up at the neighbor’s days are all behind ya, right?” I laugh.
“For you? Absofuckinglutely.”
Chapter 26 Rhyit
Bristol’s naked body molds to mine as she sleeps with her head on my chest. Her steady breaths are helping to lull me into sleep, but I’m still amped from a hell of a show. Once we were done with the show, Bristol and I ran back to the bus and immediately got down to business. I didn’t even have my belt off before she was pulling me out of my jeans. I forgot what it was like, what she was like, after the adrenaline spike of a show. I probably won’t get to go shirtless for a little while, the claw marks making themselves known even as we lie here. Actually fuck it, I don’t care if the whole world knows I get to have dirty hot sex with one of the hottest women on the planet. Leaning slightly, I grab the cigarette pack and the lighter from the side table. My hands shake as I try to pull the cigarette from the pack, and it pisses me off.
I’ve been clean from everything except alcohol since LA. 18 days ago, I took a line not realizing it would be my last. I took a pill, not realizing it would be my last. I think it might be better that way though, when you don’t realize it’s going to be the last time you do something you don’t put nearly as much pressure on yourself. The first few days were rough. I didn’t realize how often I was using, until she pointed it out to me; I didn’t realize how much I actually needed it, until she pointed it out to me. Bristol.
The disgusted expression on her face when I took that line in LA was a start. I never want her to look at me like I’m less.
The downside to not using everyday:
I.feel.everything.
Every emotion I’ve locked away for years, and yes, I do mean years, is front and center. The hurt from my parent’s divorce. Oh hello, childhood trauma. The hurt that I caused Bristol. Is that a knife in my heart? The one night stands. The people I didn’t care enough about because I was using. Stab. Stab. Stab. Losing Alex was like putting a bullet through me, but I used so much at that time that all the memories are murky. I wasn’t lying when I told Bristol I don’t remember the last conversation I had with him. I don’t. And that’s something I have to live with.
I thought I needed to be loaded to function, that getting high or drunk was the only way I could be creative or social.
Bristol’s hand moves across my stomach as I light the cigarette. I inhale deeply as her palm settles against my heart. I’m afraid I may have exchanged one addiction for another. I’ve been in a committed relationship with drugs for a while now but watching her sleep against my chest, her hand pressed firmly against my heart, beats any high I’ve ever felt. There’s not a damn thing that compares to this. I could have every inch of her body touching mine, and I’d still want more, still try to pull her closer to me. I’ll always want more of her.
We haven’t really talked about it, but I want to tell her that I regret letting her leave, that I missed her, and that it’s been her all along. I wouldn’t say that I waited for her but had all of this not happened the way it did, and she called me up out of the blue, I would have dropped everything for her.
The past still hangs above us, but it’s less like a storm cloud and more of an annoying mosquito. You can swat it away, but it’s still hanging there, buzzing annoyingly in the background.
And then there’s whatever secret she’s holding with both hands. She has a death grip on a truth, and I don’t want to pry any harder than I have, but I wish she would open up to me about it.
Bristol sighs in her sleep and contentment washes over her face, and I can’t keep this inside any longer. The words burn on the tip of my tongue, the need to express them, to tell her how I feel, how I’ve always felt, sits on my chest like a weight balloon.