A Song for Julia (35 page)

I froze. My heart was suddenly beating heavily, my chest tight, and I felt lightheaded. I hadn’t expected this. In the shower? I’d dated Willard for almost two years, and never once had something like this happened. He was straight missionary position, once a week, like clockwork. There were a couple times when I had difficulty staying awake when we were together. 

Not now. I felt tingling as the water beat against my breasts, and then behind me, the shower curtain sliding. 

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I literally couldn’t move a muscle. Then suddenly, I felt his hands slide around me and his lips against my neck.

I let out a small moan as his lips brushed against my ears, and his right hand cupped my breast. Then his other hand dropped down, between my legs, and I pressed back against him, hard. He pulled me against him, tighter, and I twisted my head to the left and met his lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I closed my eyes, whimpering. 

“Hold still,” he said and broke away from me. The sudden separation was almost painful. But then he was back, and he whispered, “Got to wash that hair,” and he began to rub shampoo into my hair, running his fingers against my scalp, massaging. 

“I love your hair,” he said. “I could do this all day.”

I could too. My body was slick with the shampoo, sliding against his, as he slowly rinsed my hair, then he began to rub the little bottle of hotel conditioner into my hair. It was all I could do to stay breathing as he nipped at my left ear with his teeth and then began rubbing body wash all over me. 

The tension was killing me. My whole body was tingling, and I was breathing in short, rapid breaths. I had to do something to get control, and I whispered, “Why should I give you what you want after you left me hanging last night?”

He growled in my ear, “Because neither of us can stop now.” 

Oh, dear God, he was right. He ran his hands over every inch of my body, my breasts, my back, my butt … setting the nerves of my entire body on fire. After he rinsed me, he turned off the water. Immediately, goosebumps popped up, and he reached out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. Then he stepped out and dried himself quickly while I watched. He was beautiful, not built massively, but muscular everywhere it counted. I held my breath as I watched. Then he looked up and met my eyes. “Bed. Now.”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

I have to go (Crank)

For the hundredth time, I found myself wishing I’d quit smoking a long time ago, as we ran up the terminal for our plane, which was departing in less than twenty minutes. Still I kept up with Julia, who it turns out was a frickin’ athlete. I’d had good sex in my day. But, wow.

Before you think I’m a complete pig … never mind. I am. I was intentionally running behind her as we tore through the terminal.

We arrived at the gate with thirty seconds to spare. Bless her for those first class tickets, because that put us in the first row of the plane. Both of us got to our seats, put away our backpacks, buckled up, then leaned against each other gasping for air as the attendants closed the doors of the plane and prepared for takeoff.

I leaned close and whispered, “You’re gonna need another shower.”

She whacked me on the shoulder. I grinned, pleased with myself.

“So … what next?”

She made a face at me. “You can sleep or whatever. I’ve got a paper to finish.”

Damn.

Once we hit altitude, she had her laptop out. I read the in-flight magazine (boring), watched the movie (also boring, some chick flick), and then I read over her shoulder (most boring, she was writing an economics paper).

On the other hand, when I was reading over her shoulder, I could smell her. And that was nice.

After a few minutes of her typing and me studying her very close up, she asked in a half-amused voice, “What are you
doing
?”

“Learning about economics,” I replied in the smoothest voice I could muster.

She snorted. “What exactly have you learned so far?”

I gave her my best charming smile, and then with a completely straight face, I said, “That some things are incredibly rare and precious. ”

Okay. I was hamming it up. But screw it. I wanted more than occasional companionship and sex. I wanted her. 

She scrunched up her nose at me and went back to typing. Damn it.

She finally finished the paper, and the plane landed. Half an hour later, we were in the car, headed back to my place to meet with the band. I’d called this morning and told them all to be there. I didn’t say why. Now, riding in the car with Julia, I could feel the anticipation building. They were going to completely freak. But as crazy as it sounds, my mind wasn’t even on that. 

It was on the fact that Julia was driving back to my place. Now. At night.

“What do you have going on tomorrow?”

“Studying,” she answered. “Why?”

“Why don’t you stay over?”

Her eyes darted to me, then back to the road. And she was silent. For a really long time. Finally she said, “Crank … I need you to know … I’m not … I don’t … shit!”

Oh, no. “Forget about it,” I said. “It was just a suggestion.”

“I don’t want you to get hung up on me.”

Too late for that. I didn’t answer.

A moment later, she said, “Damn it! I’m too involved already.”

I couldn’t help myself. “My Dad used to say, ‘In for a penny, in for a pound.’”

“Asshat,” she said.

“Don’t be calling Dad names.”

She rolled her eyes. “I meant
you
.”

“So we’re back to this, huh?”

“Back to what?”

“You being a complete bitch because I’m nice to you.”

She gripped the steering wheel, glared at me for a second, and then looked back to the road.

“You should stop being nice to me,” she said.

“Keep this up and I might.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just … I’m not cut out for that kind of commitment. I’ve told you that. I don’t want to end up hurting you. And you’re making it really hard for me.”

“I don’t understand how. It’s not like I’m not great in bed.”

She was silent for just a second and then snickered. I grinned at her, and that made her laugh. I loved it when she laughed. Her whole face lit up, it was a complete transformation. If I could make her laugh every moment of every day, I would.

“Better?” I asked.

“I’ll stay tonight. But it’s fun, all right? It’s not … whatever … that …” She sighed, unable to even say what it was she didn’t want.

Okay. I wasn’t going to push. Not now. This was all too new. I got it. She needed some time. Some time to trust. Or … whatever. Honestly, I didn’t know what the issue was. I mean, I did. She’d talked—just that once—about her experience in high school with the guy who screwed her over. I got that. But why this much cynicism about relationships? If anyone ought to be cynical about that, it was me. But here I was, ready to jump right in, and she wasn’t. Not even close. In fact, she got mad at me any time I even suggested it.

At least she was willing to say we were dating. I shook my head and stared out the window, and we stayed silent until a few minutes later when she parked next to the warehouse. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Okay. I was exhausted. It had been a long couple of days. She looked over at me and gave me a tentative smile. I grinned and then walked around the car to her.

She started to talk. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, I just …”

She didn’t finish because I grabbed her hands, pulled her to me, and brought my mouth to hers and kissed her. As our lips met, hers opened slightly, and then she pressed herself to me, pushing closer. Her arms came up around my back, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

We parted for just a second, and I took a breath. “I could do that all night. But they’ll be waiting inside.”

Her lips lifted in a quirky smile. “All right, let’s go.” She grabbed my hand, and we headed in.

Mark, Pathin and Serena were all in what passed for a living room upstairs, Mark and Pathin sitting on chairs across from each other playing cards, Serena stretched out, languid, on the couch. Mark and Pathin put the cards down when we walked in.

I didn’t know where to start.

Serena looked at us through her half-lowered eyelids. “I do hope wherever you’ve been was important enough for you to miss practice today, Crank. You two look pleased with yourselves. Did you run off and get married?”

Hardly, I thought. Not much chance of that.

I froze for a second. Did I just have this moment of cynical disappointment? Over the idea of us … no. No. No. Not even going there. 

I decided to start out the right way. “So, we were hanging out and having lunch with Allen Roark and—”

Mark burst out laughing. 

I grinned at Mark, and he looked at me and then stopped laughing.

“Seriously,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“You tell them,” I said to Julia. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you.”

She looked at the three of them, eyes round and excited. “You guys will be the opener for Allen Roark’s US tour this summer.”

Stunned silence. Serena sat up, no longer relaxed on the couch. Mark and Pathin seemed frozen in place.

“You’re serious,” Serena said.

Julia nodded. “That’s not all … as of yesterday, Morbid Obesity is signed with White Dog. You’ve got a recording contract, and they’re going to release the single immediately.”

Serena’s eyes darted to me, and I nodded, grinning. Her lips slowly curled up into a smile, and she stood, and suddenly Mark and Pathin were standing too, and shouting, and Serena walked over to Julia and wrapped her arms around her. Then Serena did something I didn’t think I’d ever see in my life. She burst into tears. Mark and Pathin began peppering me with excited questions, and I tried to answer them, but the general pandemonium took a few minutes to calm down.

Finally Julia said, “Look … we’re both … very tired. It’s been a long couple of days. I’ll answer more questions tomorrow. The main thing right now is you guys are going to have to go to work. We need the album completed by January 30th. Which means you’ve got songs to write and record starting right away.”

“We’ve got a budget for recording?” Pathin asked.

“Yes. Plenty.”

“Hell, yeah!” Mark shouted.

“Plus, the advance. We’ll sit down and figure out the accounting on that. We need to hold some back for merchandising, we’ll work out the details. Plus, I need to be reimbursed for the tickets to California, which weren’t cheap.”

Serena looked at Julia. “Looks like you got the job. You’re the boss now. Just tell us what to do.”

Julia shook her head. “Let us get some sleep?”

“One thing first,” Mark said. 

Julia raised her eyebrows. Mark had been hostile to her managing the band from the moment the idea came up. I tensed, ready to tell Mark to shut the hell up as he approached her. “I’m sorry. And … thank you.”

Julia smiled. “Thank you, Mark.”

I felt my body relax. Mark was unpredictable, and who knew what was going to come out of his mouth at any given moment. It was a relief knowing I wasn’t going to have to beat the crap out of him.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said, quietly, and I took her hand and led her back to my room.

The moment she walked inside, her face lifted into a grin. “Is it safe to sleep in here?”

I gave her a sour look, but then took a second glance around the room, and I guess I could see where she was coming from. Place was a mess. The top of my old, scarred dresser I’d picked up beside the sidewalk was scattered with paper, mostly messy musical notations. The floor, what you could see of it, had old, dingy carpeting, but my clothes, which were fairly evenly distributed around the floor, completely hid that. 

The sheets were clean. But rumpled.

In fact, the only genuinely clean spot in the room was the corner opposite the window, where my guitar leaned in its stand. 

I grunted. “Once the light is out, you won’t even notice.”

She snickered, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her warmth against my chest. 

“I’m proud of you,” I said. “No one else could have carried off what you did this weekend.”

“No,” she said. “It was your music that did it. All I did was give the song to a friend and ask him to pass it on to his dad.”

“My music, which I would have sold short to a bankrupt studio.”

She shrugged.

“We make a good team,” she said.

I leaned forward, bringing our lips together. She breathed deeply, pressing against me, as our tongues played against each other, wet, passionate. For the first time since I was in middle school, my lips were actually sore from so much kissing. I slid my hands down, cupping her butt, and she moaned, and suddenly her fingers were clawing at my back, pulling me closer, it felt like she was trying to get inside me.

My lips dropped to her neck, and she gasped and pushed me toward the bed. I pulled her along, lying down with her on top of me, and then her lips were moving down the base of my throat, and I whispered, “God, I love you.”

She froze, her whole body suddenly going rigid.

Fuck!

She was off me, and moving toward the door. 

“I have to go,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Julia, wait!” 

“No!” she shouted. Her eyes were watering and she said, “Why the hell did you have to say that, Crank?”

And then she opened the door and ran out.

I followed, running down the hall after her and grabbed her wrist. Jesus, I had to stop her.

“Julia, stop! Just wait a second!”

“Let me go!” she screamed, yanking her arm away from me. “Why do you have to ruin it? Why? I’m done here.”

I reached for her again, and she slapped my chest, pushing me away, and then slapped harder, backing away from me.

“Julia, please!”

“Don’t you ever say that to me. We aren’t … whatever you think we are. We never will be.”

Then she turned and walked out.

I slumped against the wall, rage and sadness warring inside me, my stomach clenched. I balled my fist and slammed it into the wall and shouted a curse. What the hell? I didn’t understand.