A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel (22 page)

A
s we walk
into the gates of the San Francisco Zoo, Tully’s eyes are as big as Frisbees. It’s nighttime, but the whole place is lit up with those strings of white lights. They hang from the trees, line the walkways, and frame the signs to the three main exhibits—big cats, primates, and African animals. The staff did a good job, it looks exactly like I wanted it to.

“Wait.” She stops as we walk through the main gate and start down the walkway toward the big cats. “Where is everyone?” she asks.

“Everyone who, short stack?”

“The other visitors. Isn’t this one of those night out at the zoo type things? There should be like a thousand people here, kids screaming, strollers everywhere.”

I smile. I fucking nailed this one, and I know it.

“Nope. It’s just you and me, baby. Zoo’s only open for us tonight.”

She turns to me, her face a study in fleeting emotions. Awe, surprise, curiosity, tenderness, even a little skepticism, because this is Tully we’re talking about.

“You did this? You bought out the zoo for the night?”

I pull her into my side and tuck her under my arm. “I figured we hadn’t been on a real date since San Diego. Seemed like it was time again. I’ve got a reputation to keep up here.”

She rolls her eyes in amusement. “I’m pretty sure your reputation is all about what goes on in the sheets, and not at all about dating.”

I scoff. “Short stack. I don’t do anything halfway—I may not date often, but when I do you can bet it’s a winning effort.”

I grab her hand and walk toward the exhibits.

“Well you get an A from me,” she says softly.

“Yeah? You like it?” My heart beats a little tattoo in my chest.

“It’s beautiful, Blaze,” she tells me, her eyes serious now.

“Just wait,” I whisper as I lean down and give her ear a little nibble. “You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

* * *

O
ne thing
my old man always taught me about women—chocolate and champagne. He said you couldn’t ever go wrong with chocolate and champagne. I admit, I’ve never tested his theory out until tonight, but so far it seems to be a solid one.

“Ohh,” Tully moans for the bazillionth time as her plush red lips close around another mouthful of chocolate mousse. My dick is so hard from her sound effects that I’m not sure I can stand up when it’s time to go.

“I can’t believe you even had them cater dessert.” And indeed I did. After seeing lions and tigers and bears—and making Tully gasp ‘oh my’ a few times along the way—I gave her a chocolate lover’s dream come true.

I take a sip of my club soda and eye the champagne bottle chilling next to my chair. Tully’s made a good dent in it, and I can tell she’s feeling the effects. Her gaze is hazy and she’s dropped her dessert spoon down the front of her shirt twice. I hate to say I’m jealous of a piece of silverware but…

“Aren’t you going to have any more of this?” she asks, digging her spoon into the chocolate torte that’s next to the mousse. I had them give us half a dozen chocolate desserts just to make sure there was something she liked. Apparently she likes them all.

“Nah, my treat is watching you lick that spoon off,” I tell her.

Her gaze snaps up to mine. “How do you make everything sound dirty?”

“It’s a natural talent.”

She leans forward and her tits rest on the table, plumping them up perfectly. My mouth waters, and it’s not for the dessert.

“Take me home, Blaze.” Her voice is husky and needy, and I’m up and out of my chair so fast it tips backwards and falls to the grass in a heap.

She laughs as she looks up at me, but I’m not laughing. This woman. The things she does to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s eating me up inside. The craving I have for her is like a fire burning in my gut, and I can’t sate it. No matter how many times I fuck her I just want more. It’s worse than the cocaine. She makes me feel like there’s nothing I can’t do, and that scares the ever-loving fuck out of me.

* * *

I
honestly don’t remember much
about the first time I had sex. I know, I’m supposed to have a story about some older girl who showed me the ropes, taught me killer skills, made me into the god of O’s that I am today. Sorry. I think it was Homecoming my sophomore year, and the girl was in the same grade as me. She’d done it before, but she was hardly experienced, and that’s about all I can recall. I’d imagine it wasn’t a lengthy event.

Since then sex has always been one more thing for me to succeed at. At first it was simply to have it whenever and wherever possible, because for a sixteen-year-old boy that’s the definition of success when it comes to sex. Later, after we started the band and there were women coming out of the woodwork at clubs, simple numbers didn’t make you a winner in the sex sweepstakes anymore. Every guy who had a musical instrument was getting as much as he could physically get it up for, so the bar was raised. It became about being
good
at sex. You needed to be the guy the women talked about in the bars, the one they all wanted a night with because well…multiple O’s.

Once again I stepped up my game to insure I was number one. I became the king of cunnilingus, the master of mutual masturbation, the dude who always came through for you, no matter how badly you’d been neglected in the past. I was a legend on the club circuit, able to hand out the O’s right and left, and here’s a little secret—my nickname, Blaze, it’s not only because of how fast I play guitar.

And I’ll admit it, when I started this thing with Tully, I approached it the same way—make her happier than she’s ever been. Be the best she’s ever had. Win. No matter what the cost. Win.

But tonight, as we fall into my bed back at the hotel, I realize that somewhere along the way I’ve stopped worrying so much about winning the competition for Tully’s list of best fucks and I find myself yearning to win something far more elusive—her heart.

And it’s a beautiful heart. Tully is this tiny package of love. And what people don’t seem to realize when they first meet her is that she’s had nowhere to put all that love. She’s been rebuffed so many times by her family that she’s wrapped that loving heart up in layers and layers of attitude. But I’ve seen through it. She’s shown me some of what’s underneath, and it’s full of more light, and good, and beauty than anything I’ve ever seen. To win
that
I’d need to be a much better man than I am, but damn I wish for it.

I wish for it so hard that when she glides her palms up my chest I’m not thinking about how I can get her off, I’m thinking about how sunny her smile is when she watches her bandmates joke around backstage. When her tongue slides against mine I’m not wondering if she’d prefer to be on top, I’m wondering how it’s possible that she tastes like the sweetest fruit I’ve ever had. When she moans beneath me as I enter her I don’t only feel satisfaction because she made that sound, I feel an ache in my chest that goes so deep it touches places I didn’t know were in there.

And when we move together, bodies meshing, skin burning, whispers of desire and need feathering into the velvet dark around us, I know without a doubt that for the first time in my life I’m not having sex, I’m making love.

W
e’re
on our way to Portland. After that there’s the final show in Seattle. Then it’s done, and I’m in trouble. I know it, everyone around me knows it, but we all keep going as if it’s not going to happen, as if I’m not about to have my heart torn out of my chest in bloody technicolor in front of my band, my friends, and my family.

I’m falling for Blaze Davis, and he’s going to leave and break my fucking heart.

“Hey, you,” Savvy says as I answer her Skype call from my seat on our tour bus en route to Portland.

“Hey, we’re only about seven hours out, I’ll be home before you know it.”

Even on the small screen in my phone I can see the concern in her face. “Only two more weeks, huh?”

I look away and fiddle with my cuticles. Playing keyboards is hell on your nails. I’ll never be one of those girls with the fancy manicures that’s for sure.

“Yep. Two more weeks and then back to the studio for eight weeks to finish up the album.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Tully.”

I swallow, not wanting to address it. Not now. Not here.

“Yeah, I know, but now’s not the time, Savvy.” I give a bitter laugh. “There may not ever be a time.”

She sighs. “Okay, but I know this must be hard on you, so I’m here. Maybe we can talk about it when you get home, and maybe there’s a way to work things out so it doesn’t have to—”

“Stop. Just stop Savvy. I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t survive with false hope. This is what it is, it’s what we agreed to and no one’s said they want anything any different, so I need to accept that and keep moving. I’ll be okay.”

She pastes a bright smile on her face. “Of course you will. And we’re all so excited to see you perform. I got Mom and Dad and Grandma seats with me, and the guys have tickets in another section. We can’t wait to see you.”

I give her a wry smile. “Thanks. You don’t have to pretend for my sake though. What did you have to promise Mom and Dad to get them to come?”

She takes a deep breath like she’s going to argue, then expels it, defeat all over her face. “Mom and Grandma wanted to come. Mom actually liked the show she watched livestream…but I had to promise Dad I’d get him a steak dinner before the concert.”

I chuckle. “I’ll pay you back, Savvy. There’s no reason you should have to spend forty bucks to get my own father to come see me perform at the county’s biggest outdoor venue.” I shake my head. I’ll never understand my family, but I really do try to love them anyway. They don’t make it easy.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Savvy answers as I see her husband come into the room and lean down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey T,” he says winking at me. He’s such a good guy, and so cute too.

“Hi Kevin. I’ll hang up so you can have her back.”

He shrugs. “Eh, I’m good, she’s all sloppy and sweaty right now anyway.”

Savvy shrieks and turns around to smack him. He grabs her and starts tickling her, she drops the phone and I’m given a view of their bedroom ceiling as I listen to him growling and her squealing. Jesus. Talk about some shit I don’t need to hear.

“Hanging up now, Savvy!” I yell.

She giggles and Kevin growls again. “See you tomorrow!” she hollers back at me.

I disconnect the call and let the smile drop from my face. I’ve never felt the least bit of jealousy of Savvy and Kevin’s relationship, but suddenly I’m facing a giant green-eyed monster in my reflection in the bus window. I think about what it felt like to wake up next to Blaze this morning, his warm arms and soft kisses. The way he looked at me when he was inside of me last night. The things he whispered to me before we fell asleep.

I recline the seat I’m in, listening to Mike’s soft strumming on his acoustic guitar across the aisle from me. When I agreed to this thing with Blaze I really thought I could control it, control my reactions. What an idiot I was. You don’t spend six weeks with a guy like Blaze Davis and walk away unscathed. Not only is he walking perfection in a six foot four inch buff package, but he’s funny, charming, considerate, even sweet on occasion. And he makes me feel like I’m somehow precious, and beautiful. I’ve never felt that way before and I don’t want it to end.

I realize in this moment, that I want what Savvy and Kevin have. I think I’ve actually always wanted that, I just never thought it was a possibility. After being told I was unloveable for so long I accepted it and moved on. I focused on my career, on being the best musician that I could be. I never knew that I was secretly hoping to ride the crazy train to coupledom. Now I can’t stop thinking about it, about all the what ifs. What if Blaze and I could be together for real? What if he actually fell in love with me? What if I could have the fairy tale
and
the music?

I snort out loud as I think about it. “You’re a fool, Tully,” I mutter to myself. “Pull it together.”

“What’d you do now?” Mike asks offhandedly, never pausing in the intricate flamenco picking he’s doing, kicked back in his seat, guitar on one hitched up knee.

Shit. I didn’t think he could hear me talking to myself.

“Nothing. Contemplating something really stupid, but I haven’t actually done it yet.”

He nods. “I find that if I’m actually contemplating it it’s probably not as stupid as I might think. The dumbest things I’ve done in my life—and trust me, I’ve done some really stupid shit—happened when I hadn’t been contemplating them. The things that just flew out of me in the spur of the moment were definitely the dumbest. The things I agonized over usually turned out fine.”

I watch him for a moment, his fingers flying over the strings. It’s amazing, but if you can get past the blustering and the antagonistic attitude, Mike is actually a really decent guy. Ever since he confided in me about Jenny’s miscarriage he’s treated me like one of the family, and I’ve grown to respect him for more than just his music.

“You know,” he begins talking again, “there was a time when I didn’t think that I deserved the whole soulmate, love of your life gig. I’m kind of an asshole—” he looks at me and winks, “and I figured that defined me. Being the manwhore who never got attached wasn’t just what I did, it was who I was. Or at least I thought it’s who I was.”

“But then you met Jenny,” I smile. Mike’s wife is the sweetest, most genuine Texas beauty queen you’ll ever meet. She’s pure buxom blonde wholesomeness, and gritty, manwhoring Mike is completely under her spell.

He grins at me. “But then I met Jenny. And we weren’t an overnight success. It took some serious work to get us to where we are now. But Tully—” He stops picking and sets the guitar aside as he sits up straight and looks at me seriously. “The first step was to believe that I deserved all of it—the soulmate, happily ever after thing. Until you know you’re worthy, it won’t happen.”

“Am I that obvious?”

He leans over and puts a hand on my knee. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart. We always recognize kindred souls.” He picks his guitar back up and I curl into a ball, lying on my side, watching him while he plays a beautiful exotic tune. As my eyes are drifting shut, the music and the motion of the bus lulling me to sleep, I hear Mike say, “You’re more than worthy, Tully. It’s him that needs to prove something.”

* * *

W
e spend
most of our first day in Portland doing soundchecks at the venue. I have to admit that I’ve got some butterflies in my stomach at the idea of playing Clark County Amphitheatre. I’ve been watching shows there since I was a young teen, and yes, I always dreamed of playing there myself. By the time we’ve done everything necessary to get ready for tomorrow’s show it’s after six p.m. and the sleep I got on the bus overnight is proving to be insufficient. I’m exhausted, and I really want to go sleep in my very own bed.

“Tully,” Joss calls out as he strides across the stage to me where I’m packing up my keyboard. “You’re going home tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”

“You and me both,” he says, grinning. I’m betting his smile is more about who’s
in
his bed than the actual bed itself. He hasn’t seen Mel since my birthday, so I’m sure he’s one happy rock star right now.

I give him a disgusted look. He laughs.

“I’m sending Mark with you,” he says referring to one of Lush’s many security guys.

“You don’t need to do that. Really. I’m going straight from here to my sister’s bar, and my apartment’s upstairs from there. I’ll be fine.”

“Nope,” he says, leaving no room for discussion. “We don’t fuck around with security.” Yes, I’ve heard this speech before. He seems to think that if he repeats it over and over it’ll change my mind. “We’ve had too many bad experiences. Security goes where you go while we’re on tour, and we’ll be discussing it after that as well. I’d like to see you with a full-time driver and then a detail whenever you go out after dark.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he’s not kidding. “Joss—”

“Tully.” He stares me down. Fuck he’s bossy. How does Mel stand it?

I give an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Have Mark pick me up out back in twenty minutes.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. Before I can think how ashamed I am of myself for giving in so easily, Colin comes tearing across the stage and leaps on Joss’s back howling something about getting laid and being home and eating some decent damn food. Joss laughs as Colin hops off and puts him in a headlock.

I shake my head and walk offstage the opposite direction from them. One thing I’ve seen about my guys, they can go from grown up to twelve-year-old boys in a heartbeat. I’ve learned to just roll with it, thanks mostly to Tammy who told me early on, “Remember that underneath it all they’re a pack of idiot teen boys who never figured out what they wanted to be when they grew up, mostly because they worked really hard to make sure they never have to grow up.”

When I open the door to the dressing room I’m greeted by a sight that would make any girl, even one as tired as me, smile. Blaze is sprawled out bare chested in an armchair, his denim-clad legs and booted feet up on the coffee table in front of him. He’s playing something on his cell phone, but when I walk in his whole face lights up and he puts the phone away in his pants pocket.

“Hi short stack,” he says, crooking his finger at me.

I stand, hands on hips and look at him, one eyebrow raised. “What are you doing in my dressing room?”

“Waiting for you, of course. Come here.”

“What do you think I am, a dog? You can just whistle and I’ll come?” I give him my most arch look, hoping I can pull it off when I’m so tired.

“Short stack,” he warns, his eyes narrowing. “Get your ass over here.”

I stand firm, trying not to let the smile I feel on the inside show on my face. Then I utter the fighting words, “Make me.”

He springs out of the chair so fast he’s like a blur. This was the fastest quarterback in Pennsylvania high school history, he ran the ball as much as he threw it from what I’ve Googled—because yes, I went there. Don’t judge me.

I’m backed into a wall before I can even take a breath, and he pins me with his forearms against the wall next to my head. “Rawr,” he growls as he rubs his nose against mine. “My kitten has sharp claws today.”

I breathe him in, soap and sandlewood and Blaze rushing through me and cleaning away the grit and exhaustion of the day.

He runs his nose along my neck, then nips and licks my earlobe.

“You’re not very cooperative, short stack.”

“You’re demanding,” I answer, giving a little shiver as his lips work their magic on my other earlobe.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

“Oh yeah?”

His hands start to wander now, one slipping under my top and the other curling around to squeeze my ass. “Oh yeah.”

He reaches my chest, but instead of going for my breast, he starts to tickle my rib cage. I writhe and giggle until I’m afraid I’m going to pee my pants.

“Stop!” I pant. “You have to stop. I’m too tired for this.”

He picks me up and carries me to the sofa where he sits with me on his lap. Brushing my hair out of my face, his hands are gentle and his voice is soothing. “Long day, babe?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’ve been here nearly twelve hours and still haven’t been home.”

“Well, let’s call you a car then.” He takes his cell phone out but before he can dial the car service I stop him.

“There’s one on the way already. But will you come with me?” I ask.

“Home?”

“Yeah.” I look at him for a moment. This is only going to make it harder after next week. When I come home for good and I have memories of Blaze there—in my apartment, my bed—it’ll make it that much harder for me to move on from him, but right now I can’t seem to make myself stop. I want to be with him tonight, I want every spare second I can get until I can’t get any more and I’m alone again.

“My sister’s having a little party for me at the pub. I was hoping you’d come too?”

He smiles. “I’d like nothing more.”

Relief rushes through me and I can’t help myself when I lean forward and kiss him hard and long on the lips.

When we finally pull apart his eyes are soft and his smile is like liquid sunshine. “Not that I’m complaining,” he says. “But what was that for?”