Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (18 page)

I looked over at Chelle; she was looking down at the table.

“Sure, that sounds great, just let me know when.” I smiled.

Ayashe looked over at Chelle, and she kept her eyes on the table.

“So, I got a promotion and I’m thinking about putting the kids in private school; I can finally afford it.” Ayashe stated.

Ayashe and I both looked over at Chelle, and she was still looking down at the table. “So, how’s everything at work?” Ayashe asked.

“Oh, I’ve been really busy, we have these two new products coming out for the spring and we —”I was interrupted.

“How much weight have you lost?” Chelle demanded.

Ayashe gawked at Chelle and then widened her eyes and started looking at the table. Chelle was glaring at me as if she hated me.

“I don’t really know,” I answered. Now I was the one not making eye contact with her. I looked everywhere in that lounge except at her.

“What size are you now?” she demanded.

“Oh, I’m a 16, “I lied.

“Bull fucking shit!”

“I’m a 14/16.”

“14 going on 12 soon,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“I’m trying to be healthier,” I lied.

“Cricket, you’re an 18; you’ve been an 18 since high school; you’re a fucking 18,” Chelle said.

I looked down at my martini and cringed.

“Has he tried to contact you?” she asked.

I shook my head and took another swig of my martini.

“So, now the only way we hear from you is if we contact you?” she asked annoyed.

“No, it’s not like that.”

“You know, Cricket, I’ve known you since our freshman year in college, and I’ve seen you through over a dozen breakups and three engagements, and you have NEVER looked like this before. You look like something someone drug from the crypt.”

I looked down and reached into my purse. I laid out the money for my drinks and a five-dollar tip. Then, I drank the last of my Martini and slid away from the table.

“Cricket, no, wait,” Ayashe said.

I stood up and made eye contact with Chelle.

“No, let her go. This is what she does best: RUN,” Chelle snapped.

“Cricket, please we’re your friends, but it’s so hard to see you like this. Let us in. We can help you,” Ayashe pleaded.

“She doesn’t know how,” Chelle said.

“Honey, you will bounce back, and you’ll be fine. We will stand strong with you.” Ayashe smiled.

“’We will stand strong?’ Is that what you said?” I asked through tears.

“Yes, honey, we will,” Ayashe said.

“I can’t stand anywhere if I’m barely crawling,” I cried out.

I turned and headed towards the door. Outside, the heavens had apparently opened the floodgates. I hailed a cab and slid in out of the rain. As soon as I shut my door, the other back door opened. He slid into the seat right next to me. He gave the cab driver a hundred dollar bill and told him to drive. His mouth was on mine instantly, and I couldn’t stop him if I tried. His tongue was so hot, and he was panting as if he had been running. He kissed the side of my neck, and then he went for my ear. “You don’t look good, Babe,” he whispered.

“I know,” I breathed.

“Fix that.”

I nodded with my eyes shut.

“Look at me.”

I shook my head no at him.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want this memory in my head.”

“Cricket,” he sighed.

I turned from him and curled into a ball facing the car door. He pulled away from me, and as soon as the cab stopped at a light, he got out.

I sobbed into the sleeve of my trench coat. The cab driver never said a word. We rode around for thirty minutes in pure silence. “Miss, you have fifteen dollars left on the hundred,” he said.

I gave him my address, and when he pulled up at the condo, I owed him four dollars. I handed him a hundred dollar bill and opened the car door.

“Miss, this really isn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is. Thank you.”

Robert held the car door open for me and held my hand as I got out. The tears were starting again, and I needed to be in a cold, dark place.

“I got you, Ms. Hooper,” Robert said as he pulled the front door open.

He whistled once, and Randy was to his feet running towards the elevator. Robert and I made it over to the elevator just as the elevator doors opened. Randy stepped in and pulled me into him. He pressed the tenth floor, and I began to sob. He walked me to my door and used his master key to unlock it. The door opened before he could turn the knob.

Ayashe and Chelle stood there, looking frantic, I stepped into the condo, and Chelle pulled me over to the sofa.

“Let it out, Cricket. Let it all out,” she soothed.

I obeyed every word she said. Two full meltdowns, a box set of
Sex in the City
, and six weeks of this passed.

By February I was almost 90% of my old self. I had been hanging out with the girls more and more. The insisted on taking me out, we ended up at a sketchy looking building called Cat’s Nip for my birthday. I thought, well, they did ask me what I wanted to do, and I did tell them I didn’t care. I guess Chelle took that to mean I wanted to see some stripers.

“Oh God, it looks like Cupid threw up in here,” Chelle frowned.

“Who has a birthday on Valentine’s Day? That is just so wrong on so many levels,” Ayashe stated.

“I know, and I’ve hated this fucking day every year,” I said.

“Well, Happy Birthday to the most bootylilcious size 18 I’ve ever seen,” Chelle crooned. We clinked our glasses and slammed the shot down our throats. All three of us hissed from the strong drink.

“Okay…Okay. No more drinking. We have another destination for the evening.” Chelle said.

It was true I was back in my size 18, and I’d never felt better. Some people are meant to be size 4s and 6s, but I am a bonafide bombshell 18 and extremely proud of it!

A man in velvet – and I do mean velvet – red suit got on the stage.

“What is the place?” I whispered into Ayashe’s ear.

“Shhhh,” she teased. The announcer introduced a band called Sensation, and the crowd went wild. When the lights hit the stage, there were four women dressed up like a bad eighties video, and then they started the concert with Pat Benatar’s “Love Is A Battlefield.”

My mouth dropped open, and Chelle burst out laughing. “I know how much you love eighties music, so here you go,” she beamed. I hugged her around her neck, and then we all started shouting back at the stage.

I looked around, and everyone in the lounge was a woman, seated in a party of three or more. There was not a man in sight; well, except for the half-dressed waiters; they wore bow ties and things.

The band sang everything from Cyndi Lauper to Whitney Houston. It was amazing. An hour had passed when Chelle and Ayashe took me to our next destination. We made it to an underground bar in Tacoma.

Chelle knew I loved good music, and she told me this club was off the radar. She said the stuff was so underground here that the CD’s don’t arrive until twenty minutes before the set. The bar was called No Judgey, and there was no telling what went down in here.

We went down a flight of stairs and walked for a few steps, and then hit another flight of stairs. I would have taken my heels off and jogged down like everybody else passing us now, but I was sure I would need a tetanus shot if I did. Apparently, this was the spot where Ayashe and Sheen could be incognito. Ayashe knew almost everybody in here, and there was some kind of code. Sheen wasn’t from around these parts but he felt safe here with her. They both seemed so at ease in the setting. Chelle said they played nothing but Underground music here.

We finally made it down to the concrete floor and entered a set of double doors. The space was huge and freezing. Good thing I wore my jacket over the little, sparkly, off-the-shoulder shirt I loved so much; well, the one the mud god adored so much. I wore a pair of black skinny jeans, sparkly heels, and silver hoop earrings. My hair was down, and I had on very little makeup.

I started noticing that each song they played in this club had a sort of grind beat to it and everyone was grinding up against each other.

“Do you like it?” Ayashe asked.

“Yes, it kind of reminds me of dirty dancing,” I explained.

“But in a good way, right?”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

The crowd was wild, and the club had a nice, flowing rhythm to it. I didn’t know any of the songs they played, but I desperately wanted the CD. If the songs weren’t filled with driving beats, they talked about sex and seducing somebody. On my third warm beer, I was standing up cheering Ayashe and Chelle on the dance floor. The music was amazing, and we were all having fun. Ayashe was dancing with Sheen, and Chelle was grinding on a local. I shot my eyes over to the side and saw a huge pole entering the dance floor. I was not sure if something was about to pop off or not, but I was ready for whatever.

A guy walked out on the dance floor and pulled Chelle up to him, right at a song change. Chelle’s previous partner didn’t mind and he found another dance partner right away. She caught the beat to the new song and really laid it to this partner. I caught the side of his face, and it was Kanoke. I felt a ping in the pit of my stomach, and I was just about to turn and go back to my original watch spot when I felt someone press up against my back and then a hand moving my hair to the full shoulder side of my shirt. A pair of warm and familiar lips was at my ear on my shoulder that was now fully exposed. Those arms were wrapping around me like a vice. I breathed in, and I could smell fresh Irish Spring in the air. I felt the tingles rising inside of me. No matter how hard I tried to hate him, and no matter how much I tried to prepare myself for this encounter, it wasn’t enough. He was my kryptonite, and our past problems didn’t matter to me at all. They all melted away with just one touch.

Jyme sang in my ear, matching the same deep tone the singer was belting out.

“Can you lie next to her and give her your heart, your heart as well as your body. Can you lay next her and confess your love, your love as well as your folly.” My skin rose in chill bumps, and my toes were tingling. He swayed me in his arms, and I couldn’t think of any other place I would rather be.

Jyme sang, “Tell me now where my fault was in loving you with my whole heart.”

I was a little scared of him, but I pushed every fear and every negative emotion down. My body and mind craved for this man, I was so lost in him now; he had completely hypnotized me, and I didn’t want to ever wake. He grinded up against me, and I tried to turn around so I could see his face, but he yanked me back in place.

“Don’t,” he growled in my ear. Just hearing his thick deep voice, made chills run across my neck and back.

I was so caught up in him. I pressed back and bounced my ass slowly up and down on his anaconda. Jyme slid his tongue in my ear, and my insides went crazy. The singer’s voice coming out the speakers all of a sudden got angry. The song still kept its slow grinding tempo, but the vocals now sounded like thick molasses and razor blades. The singer was mad and his words cut: “A white blank page and a swelling rage. You didn’t think when you sent me to the brink; you desired my attention but denied my affections.”

“Cricket, come with me,” Jyme demanded. I nodded and gripped his arms around my stomach and torso tighter. He turned us around, still not letting me see him.

“Walk,” he growled in my ear, and I started moving straight through the crowd. He guided me by pushing or tugging. Why won’t he let me see him? Had he gotten beaten up or maybe he had a fishing accident? Surely, someone would have told me that; I mean if he was now deformed someone would have told Ayashe or Chelle.

My heart pounded as we rushed through the crowd. The song was at its climax, and everyone was rocking to it. A man I hadn’t seen before stood at a door. He nodded and let us pass through. We were in a pitch-black room, and I could hear a train in the distance. If Jyme wanted to fuck me right here and now in this dark cramped room, I’d let him.

“We can do it here,” I breathed.

“What?” he asked. I stopped, and he pushed me, but I didn’t budge.

“Fuck me here,” I whined. He pushed me ahead towards a hallway with a dim light. He pressed me up against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. He brushed my hair away from my neck, and then he was at my ear. I tried to reach for his face, but he yanked my hands back down.

“Why can’t I see you?” I breathed.

“Wait,” he demanded. He slid his hands under my shirt and pulled both of my breasts out of their cups. He kissed down the side of my neck and massaged each nipple repeatedly.

I felt tears coming to the surface. I had longed for his touch; I had ached for him.

“Jyme!” I cried out.

“Shhhh, I’m here,” he explained.

“Where have you been?”

“Cricket,” he sighed. He buried his face in the side of my neck.

“Jyme, I hate you so much.”

“I know you do, Babe,” he said, kissing the side of my face.