Lick: A Steamy Rock N’ Roll Romance (Stage Dive Series Book 1)
Lick: Chapter 17

Twenty-eight days later …

The woman was taking forever to order. Her eyes kept shifting between me and the menu as she leaned across the counter. I knew that look. I dreaded that look. I loved being in the café, with the aroma of coffee beans and the soothing blend of music and chatter. I loved the camaraderie we had going on behind the counter and the fact that the work kept my hands and brain busy. Weirdly enough, being a barista relaxed me. I was good at it. With my studies a constant struggle, I reveled in that fact. If everything ever hit the wall, I’d always have coffee to fall back on. It was the modern-day Portland equivalent of typing. The city ran on coffee beans and cafés. Coffee and beer were in our blood.

Lately, however, some customers had been a pain in the ass to deal with.

“You seem really familiar,” she started, much as they all did. “Weren’t you all over the internet a while back? Something to do with David Ferris?”

At least I didn’t flinch at his name anymore. And it had been days since I’d felt the urge to actually vomit. Definitely not pregnant, just getting annulled.

After the first few days of hiding in bed, crying my eyes out, I took every shift the café would give me to keep busy. I couldn’t mourn him forever. Pity my heart remained unconvinced. He was in my dreams every night when I closed my eyes. I had to chase him out of my mind a thousand times a day.

By the time I surfaced, the few lingering paparazzi had cleared off back to LA. Apparently Jimmy had gone into rehab. Lauren switched channels every time I walked in, but I couldn’t help but catch enough news to know what was going on. It seemed Stage Dive were being talked about everywhere. Someone had even asked me to sign a picture of David striding into the treatment facility, head hanging down and hands stuffed in his pockets. He’d looked so alone. Several times, I’d almost called him. Just to ask if he was okay. Just to hear his voice. How stupid was that? And what if I rang and Martha answered?

At any rate, Jimmy’s meltdown was much more interesting than me. I barely rated a mention on the news these days.

But people, customers, they drove me nuts. Outside of work, I’d become a complete shut-in. That had its own issues on account of my brother basically living with us now. People in love were sickening. It was a proven medical fact. Customers with speculation shining bright in their beady little eyes weren’t much better.

“You’re mistaken,” I told the nosy woman.

She gave me a coy look. “I don’t think so.”

Ten bucks said she was working her way up to asking me for his autograph. This would make the eighth attempt to obtain one today. Some of them wanted to take me home for intimate relations because, you know, rock star’s ex. My vagina clearly had to be something special. I sometimes wondered if they thought there was a little plaque on my inner thigh saying David Ferris had been there.

This chick, however, wasn’t checking me out. No, she wanted an autograph.

“Look,” she said, speculation turning to wheedling. “I wouldn’t ask, it’s just that I’m such a huge fan of his.”

“I can’t help you, sorry. We’re actually about to close. So would you like to order something before that happens?” I asked, pleasant smile firmly in place. Sam would have been proud of that smile, as fake as it was. But with my eyes I told the woman the truth. That I was all used up and I honestly had no fucks left to give. Especially when it came to David Ferris.

“Can you at least tell me if the band are really breaking up? Come on. Everyone’s saying an announcement’s going to be made any day now.”

“I don’t know anything about it. Would you liked to order something, or not?”

Further denial generally led to either anger or tears. She chose anger. A good choice, because tears annoyed the living hell out of me. I was sick of them, both on myself and others. Despite it being common knowledge that I’d been dumped, they still figured I had connections. Or so they hoped.

She did a fake little laugh. “There’s no need to be a bitch about it. Would letting me know what’s happening really have killed you?”

“Leave,” said my lovely manager, Ruby. “Right now. Get out.”

The woman switched to incredulous, mouth open wide. “What?”

“Amanda, call the cops.” Ruby stood tall beside me.

“On it, boss.” Amanda snapped open her cell and punched in the numbers, leveling the woman with her evil eye. Amanda, having moved on from being my high school’s sole lesbian, was studying drama. These confrontations were her favorite part of the day. They might have sapped my strength, but Amanda sucked all of her power from them. A dark, malevolent force, to be sure, but it was all hers and she reveled in it. “Yes, we’ve got a fake blonde with a bad tan giving us trouble, officer. I’m pretty certain I saw her at a frat party doing some serious underage drinking last week. I don’t want to say what happened after that but the footage is available on YouTube for your viewing pleasure if you’re over eighteen.”

“No wonder he dropped you. I saw the picture, your ass is wide as fucking Texas,” the woman sneered and then sped out of the café.

“Do you really have to stir them up?” I asked.

Amanda clucked her tongue. “Please. She started it.”

I’d heard worse than what she’d said. Way worse. Several times now I’d had to change my email address to stop the hate mail from flooding in. I had closed my Facebook account early on.

Still, I checked my butt to be sure. It was a close call, but I was pretty sure Texas was, in fact, wider.

“As far as I can tell you’re living on a diet of breath mints and lattes. Your ass is not a concern.” Amanda had long since forgiven me for the bad kiss back in high school, bless her. I was beyond lucky to have the friends I did. I really don’t know how I’d have made it through the last month without them.

“I eat.”

“Really? Whose jeans are those?”

I started cleaning the coffee machine because it really was getting on closing time. That, and for reasons of subject avoidance. Fact was, getting cheated on and lied to by rock ’n’ roll’s favorite son did make for quite the diet. Definitely not one I’d recommend. My sleep was shot to shit and I was tired all the time. I was depression’s bitch. Inside and out, I didn’t feel like me. The time I’d spent with David, the way it had changed things, was a constant agitation, an itch I couldn’t scratch. Partly because I lacked the power but also because I lacked the will. You could only sing “I Will Survive” so many times before the urge to throttle yourself took over.

“Lauren doesn’t wear these. Said they were the wrong shade of dark wash and that the placement of the back pockets made her look hippy. Apparently pocket placement matters.”

“And you started wearing that skinny cow’s clothes when?”

“Don’t call her that.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Please, she takes it as a compliment.”

True. “Well, I think the jeans are nice. Are you wiping down the tables or would you like me to?”

Amanda just sighed. “Jo and I want to thank you for helping us move last weekend. So we’re taking you out tonight. Drinking and dancing ahoy!”

“Oh.” Alcohol and me already had a bad reputation. “I don’t know.”

“I do.”

“I had plans to—”

“No you don’t. This is why I left it to the last minute to tell you. I knew you’d try to make excuses.” Amanda’s dark eyes brooked no nonsense. “Ruby, I’m taking our girl out for a night on the town.”

“Good idea,” Ruby called out from the kitchen. “Get her out of here. I’ll clean up.”

My practiced pleasant smile fell off my face. “But—”

“It’s the sad eyes,” said Ruby, confiscating my cleaning cloth. “I can’t bear them any longer. Please go out and have some fun.”

“Am I that much of a killjoy?” I asked, suddenly worried. I honestly thought I’d been putting on a good front. Their faces told me otherwise.

“No. You’re a normal twenty-one-year-old going through a break-up. You need to get back out there and reclaim your life.” Ruby was in her early thirties and soon to be wed. “Trust me. I know best. Go.”

“Or,” said Amanda, waggling a finger at me. “You could sit at home watching Walk the Line for the eight hundredth time while listening to your brother and best friend going hard at it in the room next door.”

When she put it like that … “Let’s go.”

*

“I want to be bi,” I announced, because it was important. A girl had to have goals. I pushed back my chair and rose to my feet. “Let’s dance. I love this song.”

“You love any song that’s not by the band who shall not be named.” Amanda laughed, following me through the crowd. Her girlfriend Jo just shook her head, clinging to her hand. Vodka was doubtless as bad an idea as tequila, but I did feel somewhat unwound, looser. It was good to get out and on an empty stomach three drinks went a long way, clearly. I did suspect Amanda had made at least one of them a double. It felt great to dance and laugh and let loose. Out of all of the getting over a break-up tactics I’d attempted, keeping busy worked best. But going out dancing and drinking all dressed up shouldn’t be mocked.

I tucked my hair behind my ears because my ponytail had started falling apart again. Perfect metaphor for my life. Nothing worked right since I’d gotten back from LA. Nothing lasted. Love was a lie and rock ’n’ roll sucked. Blah blah blah. Time for another drink.

And I’d been in the middle of making an important point.

“I’m serious,” I said. “I’m going bi. It’s my new plan.”

“I think that’s a great plan,” yelled Jo, moving next to me. Jo also worked at the café, which was how the two had met. She had long blue hair that was the envy of all.

Amanda rolled her eyes at me. “You’re not bi. Babe, don’t encourage her.”

Jo grinned, totally unrepentant. “Last week she wanted to be gay. Before that she talked monasteries. I think this is a constructive step toward her forgiving every penis-possessing human and moving on with her life.”

“I am moving on with my life,” I said.

“Which is why you two have been talking about him for the past four hours?” Amanda grinned, throwing her arms around Jo’s shoulders.

“We weren’t talking about him. We were insulting him. How do you say ‘useless stinking sheep fornicator’ in German again?” I asked, leaning in to be heard over the music. “That was my favorite.”

Jo and Amanda got busy close dancing and I let them go, unperturbed. Because I wasn’t afraid of being alone. I was action-packed full of single girl power. Fuck David Ferris. Fuck him good and hard.

The music all blended into one long time-bending beat and so long as I kept moving it was all perfect. Sweat slicked my neck and I popped another button on my dress, widening the neckline. I ignored the other people dancing around me. I shut my eyes, staying safe in my own little world. The alcohol had given me a nice buzz.

For some reason, the hands sliding over my hips didn’t bother me, even though they were uninvited. They went no further, made no demands on me. Their owner danced behind me, keeping a small safe distance between us. It was nice. Maybe the music had hypnotized me. Or maybe I had been lonely, because I didn’t fight it. Instead I relaxed against him. For all of the next song we stayed like that, melded together, moving. The beat slowed down and I raised my arms, linking my hands behind his neck. After a month of avoiding almost all human contact, my body woke. The short, soft hair at the back of his neck brushed over my fingers. Smooth, warm skin beneath.

God, it was so nice. I hadn’t realized how touch-starved I was.

I leaned my head back against him and he whispered something softly. Too soft for me to hear. The soft bristles on his cheek and jaw lightly prickled the side of my face. Hands slid over my ribs, up my arms. Calloused fingers lightly stroked the sensitive underside of my arms. His body was solid behind me, strong, but he kept his touch light, restrained. I wasn’t in the market for a rebound. My heart was too bruised for that, my mind too wary. I couldn’t bring myself to move away from him, however. It felt too good there.

“Evelyn,” he said, his lips teasing my ear.

My breath caught, my eyelids shot open. I turned to replace David staring back at me. The long hair was gone. It was still longish on top but cut short at the sides. He could probably do a neat Elvis pompadour if the fancy took him. A short, dark beard covered his lower face.

“Y-you’re here,” I stuttered out. My tongue felt thick and useless inside my dry mouth. Christ, it was really him. Here in Portland. In the flesh.

“Yeah.” His blue eyes burned. He didn’t say anything else. Music kept playing, people kept moving. The world only stopped turning for me.

“Why?”

“Ev?” Amanda put a hand to my arm and I jumped, the spell broken. She gave David a quick glance and then her face screwed up in distaste. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“It’s okay,” I said.

Her gaze moved between David and me. She didn’t really seem convinced. Fair enough.

“Amanda. Please.” I squeezed her fingers, nodded. After a moment she turned back to Jo who stared at David with open disbelief. And a healthy dose of star-struck. His new look made for a brilliant disguise. Unless you knew who you were looking for, of course.

I pushed through the crowd, getting the hell out of there. I knew he’d follow. Of course he would. It was no accident he was there, though I had no damn idea how he’d found me. I needed to get away from the heat and the noise so I could think straight. Down the back hallway past the men’s and women’s toilets. There, that was what I wanted. A big black door opened onto a back alleyway. Open night air. A few brave stars twinkled high overhead. Otherwise it was dark back here, damp from earlier summer rain. It was horrible and dirty and hateful. An ideal setting.

I might have been feeling a bit dramatic.

The door slammed shut behind David. He faced me, hands on hips. He opened his mouth to start talking and no, not happening. I snapped.

“Why are you here, David?”

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.”

He rubbed at his mouth. “Please. There’re things I have to tell you.”

“Too late.”

Looking at him revived the pain. As if I had wounds lingering just beneath the skin, waiting to resurface. I couldn’t help staring at him, however. Parts of me were desperate for the sight of him, the sound of him. My head and heart were a wreck. David didn’t appear so great himself. He looked tired. There were shadows beneath his eyes and he seemed a little pale, even in this crappy lighting. The earrings were missing, all of them gone. Not that I cared.

He rocked back on his heels, eyes watching me desperately. “Jimmy went into rehab and there were other things going on I had to deal with. We had to do therapy together as part of his treatment. That’s why I couldn’t come straight away.”

“I’m sorry to hear about Jimmy.”

He nodded. “Thanks. He’s doing a lot better.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Another nod. “Ev, about Martha—”

“Whoa.” I held up a hand, backing up. “Don’t.”

His mouth turned down at the edges. “We have to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Yes.”

“Because now you’ve decided you’re ready? Fuck you, David. It’s been a month. Twenty-eight days without a word. I’m sorry about your brother, but no.”

“I wanted to make sure I was coming after you for the right reasons.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Ev—”

“No.” I shook my head, hurt and fury pushing me hard. So I pushed at him even harder, sending him back a step. He hit the wall and I had nowhere else to go with him. But that didn’t stop me.

I went to push at him again and he grabbed my hands. “Calm down.”

“No!”

His hands encircled my wrists. He gritted his teeth, grinding his molars together. I heard it. Impressive that he didn’t crack anything. “No, what? No to talking now? What? What do you mean?”

“I mean no to everything and anything to do with you.” My words echoed through the narrow alleyway, up the sides of the buildings until they emptied out into the uncaring night sky. “We’re finished, remember? You’re fucking done with me. I’m nothing to you. You said so yourself.”

“I was wrong. Goddamn it, Ev. Calm down. Listen to me.”

“Let me go.”

“I’m sorry. But it’s not what you think.”

Out of options, I got in his face. “You don’t get to come here now. You lied to me. You cheated on me.”

“Baby—”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” I yelled.

“I’m sorry.” His gaze roamed my face, searching for sense maybe. He was shit out of luck. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Over and over he said, chanting the most worthless words in all of time and space. I had to stop it. Shut him up before he drove me insane. I smashed my mouth to his, halting the useless litany. He groaned and kissed me back hard, bruising my lips, hurting me. But then I hurt him too. The pain helped. I pushed my tongue into his mouth, taking what was supposed to be mine. In that moment I hated him and I loved him. There didn’t seem to be any difference.

My hands were freed and I wound them around his neck. He turned us, setting my back to the rough brick wall. His touch burned through my skin and bones. It all happened so fast, there wasn’t time to wonder about the wisdom of it. He pushed up my dress and tore at my panties. They didn’t stand a chance. The cool of the night air and the heat of his palms smoothed over my thighs.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he groaned.

“David.”

He lowered his zipper and pushed down the front of his jeans. Then he lifted my leg, bringing it up to his hip. My hands dragged at his neck. I think I was trying to climb him. There wasn’t much thought going into it. Just the drive to get as close to him as physically possible. He nipped at my lips, taking my mouth in another hard kiss. His cock pushed against me, easing into me. The feel of him filling me made my head spin. The slight ache as he stretched me. His other hand slid around beneath my butt then he lifted me up, pushing in all the way, making me moan. I wrapped my legs around him and held on tight. He pounded himself into me with nil finesse. Rough suited both our moods. My fingernails clawed at his neck, my heels drumming his ass. His teeth pressed hard into the side of my neck. The pain was perfect.

“Harder,” I panted.

“Fuck yes.”

The rough brickwork abraded my back, pulling at the fabric of my dress. The hard drive of his cock took my breath away. I clung on tight, trying to savor the feel of him, the tension building inside me. It was all too much and still not enough. The thought that this could be our last time, a brutally angry joining like this … I wanted to cry but I didn’t have the tears. His fingers dug into my ass cheeks, marking my flesh. The pressure inside me grew higher and higher. He changed his angle slightly, hitting my clit, and I came hard, my arms wrapped around his head, my cheek pressed against his. His beard brushed against up my face. My whole body shuddered and shook.

“Evelyn,” he snarled, grinding himself into me, emptying himself inside me.

Every muscle in my body went liquid. It was all I could do to hang onto him.

“It’s fine, baby.” His mouth pressed against my damp face. “It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll fix it.”

“P-put me down.”

His shoulders rose and fell on a harsh breath and carefully he did so. Quickly I pulled down the skirt of my dress, set myself to rights. Like that was even possible. This situation was out of control. Without fuss he pulled up his jeans, made himself presentable. I looked everywhere but at him. An alleyway. Holy hell.

“Are you alright?” His fingers brushed over my face, tucked back my hair. Until I put a hand to his chest, forcing him back a step. Well, not forcing him. He chose to give me my space.

“I … um.” I licked my lips and tried again. “I need to go home.”

“Come on, I’ll get us a cab.”

“No. I’m sorry. I know I started this. But …” I shook my head.

David hung his.

“That was goodbye.”

“Like fuck it was. Don’t you even try to tell me that.” His finger slid beneath my chin, making me look at him. “We are not finished, you hear me? Not even fucking remotely. New plan. I’m not leaving Portland until we’ve talked this out. I promise you that.”

“Not tonight.”

“No. Not tonight. Tomorrow then?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I had no idea what I wanted to say. My fingernails dug into my sides through my dress. What I wanted these days was a mystery even to me. To stop hurting would be nice. To remove all memory of him from my head and heart. To get my breathing back under control.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated.

“I don’t know.” Now I felt tired, facing him. I could have slept for a year. My shoulders slumped and my brain stalled.

He just stared at me, eyes intense. “Okay.”

Where that left us, I had no idea. But I nodded as if something had been decided.

“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath.

My muscles still trembled. Semen slid down the inside of my leg. Shit. We’d had the talk, but things had been different back then.

“David, you practiced safe sex, right, the last month?”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Good.”

He took a step toward me. “As far as I’m concerned we’re still married. So no, Evelyn, I haven’t been fucking around on you.”

I had nothing. My knees wavered. Probably due to the recent action they’d seen. Relief over him not taking to the groupies with a vengeance after our split couldn’t be part of it, surely. I didn’t even want to think about Martha, that tentacle-wielding sea monster from the deep.

Sex was so messy. Love was far and away worse.

One of us had to go. He made no move so I left, hightailing it back toward the club to replace Amanda and Jo. I needed new panties and a heart transplant. I needed to go home. He followed me, opening the door. The heavy bass of the music boomed out into the night.

I rushed into the ladies’ room and locked myself into a stall to clean up. When I came out to wash my hands, looking in the mirror was hard. The harsh fluorescent lighting did me no favors. My long blonde hair hung around my face a knotted mess care of David’s hands. My eyes were wide and wounded. I looked terrified, but of what I didn’t want to say. Also, there was the mother of all hickeys forming on my neck. Hell.

A couple of girls came in, giggling and casting longing looks back over their shoulders. Before the door swung shut, I caught a glance of David leaning against the wall opposite, waiting, staring at his boots. The girls’ excited chatter was jarringly loud. But they made no mention of his name. David’s disguise was holding up. Arms wrapped around myself, I went out to meet him.

“Ready to go?” he asked, pushing off from the wall.

“Yeah.”

We made our way back through the club, dodging dancers and drunkards, searching for Amanda and Jo. They were on the edge of the dance floor, talking. Amanda had her cranky face on.

She took me in and a brow arched. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Thanks for asking me out, guys. But I’m going to head home,” I said, ignoring the pointed look.

“With him?” She jerked her chin at David, who lurked at my shoulder.

Jo stepped forward, wrapping me up in her arms. “Ignore her. You do what’s right for you.”

“Thanks.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and followed suit, pulling me in for a hug. “He hurt you so bad.”

“I know.” My eyes welled with tears. Highly unhelpful. “Thanks for asking me out.”

I’d bet all the money I had Amanda was roasting David over my shoulder with her eyes. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

We left the club as one of his songs came over the speakers. There were numerous cries of “Divers!” Jimmy’s voice purred out the lyrics, “Damn I hate these last days of love, cherry lips and long goodbyes …”

David ducked his head and we rushed out. Outside in the open air, the song was no more than the far-away thumping of bass and drums. I kept sneaking sidelong glances, checking he was really there and not some figment of my imagination. So many times I’d dreamed he’d come to me. And every time I’d woken up alone, my face wet with tears. Now he was here and I couldn’t risk it. If he broke me again, I wasn’t convinced I’d manage to get back up a second time. My heart might not make it. So I did my best to keep my mouth and my mind shut.

It was still relatively early and there weren’t many people milling about outside. I held out my hand to the passing traffic and a cab cruised to a stop soon after. David held the door open for me. I climbed in without a word.

“I’m seeing you home.” He slid in after me and I scurried across the seat in surprise.

“You don’t need—”

“I do. Okay. I do need to do that much, so just …”

“Alright.”

“Where to?” The cab driver asked, giving us an uninterested look in the rearview mirror. Another feuding couple in his back seat. I’m sure he saw at least a dozen a night.

David rattled off my address without blinking. The taxi pulled out into the flow of traffic. He could have gotten my address from Sam, and as for the rest …

“Lauren,” I sighed, sinking back against the seat. “Of course, that’s how you knew where to replace me.”

He winced. “I talked to Lauren earlier. Listen, don’t be mad at her. She took a lot of convincing.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. She ripped me a new one for messing things up with you, yelled at me for half an hour. Please don’t be mad at her.”

I gritted my teeth and stared out the window. Until his fingers slid over mine. I snatched back my hand.

“You’ll let me inside you but you won’t let me hold your hand?” he whispered, his face sad in the dim glow of the passing cars and streetlights.

It was on the tip of my mouth to say that it had been an accident. That what had happened between us was wrong. But I couldn’t do it. I knew how much it would hurt him. We stared at each other as my mouth hung open, my brain useless.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said. “You have no idea.”

“Stop.”

His lips shut but he didn’t look away. I sat there caught by his gaze. He looked so different with his long hair gone, with the short beard. Familiar but unknown. It wasn’t a long trip home though it seemed to take forever. The cab stopped outside the old block of flats and the driver gave us an impatient look over his shoulder.

I pushed open the car door, ready to be gone but hesitating just the same. My foot hovered in thin air above the curb. “I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Hey,” he said, his arm stretching out across the back of the seat. His fingers reached toward me but fell short of making contact. “You’re going to see me again. Tomorrow.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, voice determined.

“I don’t know if it’ll make any difference.”

He lifted his chin, inhaling sharply. “I know I fucked us up, but I’m going to fix it. Just don’t make up your mind yet, alright? Give me that much.”

I gave him a brief nod and hurried inside on unsteady legs. Once I’d locked myself inside, the cab pulled away, its tail lights fading to black through the frosted glass of the downstairs door.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?