In the Lyrics (19 page)

Read In the Lyrics Online

Authors: Nacole Stayton

Tags: #New Adult

BOOK: In the Lyrics
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I’M HANGING ON by a thread.
Air.
I need air. And space.
What is this girl doing?
She’s begging for me to claim her. I thought she wanted to move slowly? Other than a couple of times when our roaming hands got the better of us, she’s never even indicated that she wanted more. My body, okay not my body, but my dick is throbbing. I either need to get home and take a cold shower or…
fuck, what am I thinking?
I’m not going to go home and screw her. She deserves something nicer than a quickie after dry humping in a bar all night. She deserves flowers and wine and everything sweet that I can muster up. Knowing she is in good hands, I allow myself a few extra minutes to clear my head.

My mind wanders to Dusty’s and my conversation this morning. It started when he asked me if I wanted to go to the gym with him. I’ve never really had a membership anywhere; I’ve always used the farm and its advantages to help keep me in shape, but he insisted we have some man time, so I went along.

“Dude, are you going to spot me or stand there texting Hensley all morning?” Dusty barked as he sat on a black, leather weight bench.

“My bad. Here.” Walking over to him, I stand behind him and slowly lower the bar. He lifts it a few times and then stands up. Sitting down in his spot, he lowers it for me and we do the same routine for several minutes.

“So I feel like the dad in this situation, but we might need to talk about our girl Hensley and your intentions.”

I laugh. “Okay, shoot.”

“I know you’ve been getting closer, which can only mean she’s finally let that giant ass guard down and let you in, but she’s still fragile. She’s like a statue. From a distance it looks hard and unbreakable, but if you knock that puppy over, it’s liable to break into a million pieces.”

“Seriously, how old are you? Hensley’s not going to get broken. I know that’s what you’re trying to insinuate. I like her. Scratch that, I love her. I am head over heels in love with her, man,” I say as I swallow. It sounds strange saying those three words out loud.

“If you break her heart,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re the type of man to play any dumb shit, but dude, if you do, I’m just warning you. I love her like she’s my sister, and no one messes with my family.”

His words seem like a threat, but I know he’s just watching out for his best friend. I don’t blame him, and I also know where I stand in this little trio. They were best friends long before I came into the picture.

“Dusty, listen, brother to brother, you have nothing to worry about. I don’t want to lay it all out there and sound like a pussy-whipped, little bitch, but it’s like I’m high on her. Her sweet perfume, her touch, her kisses, they’re all intoxicating, and I’ve never done a drug in my entire life, but damn if I’m not addicted to her. I’m not going to play her or break her heart. You’ve got to trust me, dude. She does, so cut me some slack.” I nudge him with my shoulder. Raising his hand he grabs mine and we shake. Nothing else is said. It doesn’t need to be.

 

 

THE NIGHT’S COOL air brings me back to reality and dulls my lustful thoughts, and I open the door to go inside. Deciding to get us three some drinks, I walk towards the bar, but someone stops me.

“Excuse me, fella.” Turning, I see two men who are decked out in their Sunday finest – the same men who nodded at me earlier.

My feet stop in their tracks in front of them wondering who they are. “Yes, sir?” I answer.

“I’m Michael Shannon and this is Robert Hampton. We’re from Smashtown Records. Do you have a moment to chat?”

“Absolutely,” I say enthusiastically as I wonder what two people from a label are doing here.

“We were in town for a meeting, and decided to stop by Mitch’s before heading out. I’m glad we did after what we just heard.”

“Where are y’all from?”

The man I was introduced to as Robert says, “Our label is located in Los Angeles.”

Michael interrupts, “You’ve got raw talent, kid. We’re always pleased with the gigs Mitch has at his place, but tonight I’m really impressed. Don’t get me wrong…that little trio you have is good too, but you…you’re what this industry needs right now. Have you been contacted by anyone yet?”

Opening my mouth to speak, I’m surprised that no words come out.
I’m what this industry needs right now.
“No, sir,” I finally say softly.

“Lucky for us then, huh?” he pauses, “We’d love to hear more from you. Talk a little more about what you want out of your career. How about you take my card? Do a little thinking about whether music is something you really want to pursue, and then give me a buzz.”

He pulls his card out of his pocket and hands it to me. We shake hands and then they walk away, leaving me with a million questions. Is music something I want to pursue? Hell yeah, it is! It’s why I moved here, and this, this is what I dream about. Someone noticing me, giving me a chance. Only it isn’t just me anymore. Hensley is a part of me; she’s taken up permanent residence in my heart.

Shoving the card into my back pocket, I try and hide my excitement as I approach the bar.

“And he’s back. You just couldn’t get enough of me, could ya?”

I smile politely back at the redheaded bartender.

“So I see ole Michael and Robert took a likin’ to ya. They’re big time, ya know,” she says with her hand on her hip.

Looking over my shoulder, I spot Dusty and Hensley. They’re still dancing. I try to hide my excitement. “Yeah. I guess so. They gave me their card.”

“Well, if that don’t deserve a shot, I don’t know what in the hell does. This one’s on me, baby!”

Turning around, I see her grab a bottle of tequila and pour it to the rim of a clear shot glass, and then she fills up a second one.

“One for you and one for me.” She smiles and has a seductive beam in her eye.

Picking up the glass, I clink mine with hers and gently set it back down on the counter.

“I don’t drink, but thanks for celebrating.”

Walking away from the counter, it’s not that I’m trying to hide anything from Dusty or Hensley, but today’s been so great. I don’t want jealousy to mess things up. And I mean more than jealousy in a relationship. They’ve both been working towards the same goal too; we all three want the same thing – for someone to approach one of us and stuff their record label’s card in our pocket.

With the lingering excitement of our performance running through our veins, we pack up our equipment and load up Hensley’s car. My mind is occupied with thoughts about telling them what happened, but I’m scared if I do, things will change between us. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Hensley. She owns my heart now, especially after I told her all of my secrets. The bond we share is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Yes, music is my passion. It’s been my goal to be a professional performer since I can remember, but things change. Hensley is my passion now. Deciding to keep quiet about it, I reach over to the center console and grab Hensley’s hand. Her genuine smile means more to me than any card right now anyways.

 

 

I LOVE COLBY Skylar Grant.
Sometimes I think, no, I
know
, that people throw those three words around like a Frisbee nowadays. It’s like people are just looking for someone to say them to, when in all actuality they should be looking for someone that makes them feel like love is real. Like they can’t breathe without them. That’s how I know. Losing him would be the end of me. I’m giving him my heart and soul wrapped in a little bow. The only thing left I have to give is my virginity. But tonight I’m content with the headway we made. He knows I want him, so the ball’s now in his court. We all ride home in a comfortable silence, unload our stuff, and get ready for bed. There’s a weird vibe between Colby and I as we lay down for bed, and he kisses me goodnight. The sexual tension is unmistakable, and the ache in my core is growing day by day. Tonight’s obviously not the night. Colby tells me without words as he rolls over in bed and faces the wall. It better happen soon, or I might spontaneously combust from horniness.

 

 

MY MOM HAD a cow when I told her about him. I had already prepared myself to get the wrath, so I knew it was coming, it doesn’t make it easier to hear though. Knowing I didn’t want to jump the gun, I waited until I was sure things were real between us. I knew in that moment at Mitch’s that the feelings I felt for him were genuine, and they were something more than like. But doubts about our relationship crept in and filled my head as my mom spoke, all I kept thinking about was how happy he makes me. How I laugh more, and feel alive for once. She said, “I knew it. I knew it from the moment that Logan’s momma called me. She told me ‘bout this fella and I denied her, ignoring her, saying that my baby girl knew that dating just wasn’t in the cards for her. Then you waltz in here, beaming from ear to ear and paint me out like a fool.”

That wasn’t even the worst of it. Reminding me of what she gave up to raise me, she only made me resent her. Singing is a passion of mine, but it’s not my life. It doesn’t define me. Yes, getting signed somewhere would be a blessing. It’d sure help out with the bills and my dad’s medication to fight his cancer, but it wouldn’t love me back. Colby does.

Deciding it is best to give her some time to digest my newfound relationship, I plan to stay at Dusty’s for a few days. I’m still pretty much there all the time, so it’s not a big deal. It was at first when I wasn’t sure what was going on between Colby and I. Being in the apartment so close to him when I was trying to fight my feelings towards him was really confusing. It was like him telling me about his brother just signified how much he cared about me, trusted me. Things have been great from that point forward, other than my mom trying to tempt me to break up with him at every turn. It’s a shame I can’t even invite my boyfriend over for dinner with my parents because I’m scared of what she will say.

 

 

“ALRIGHT, YOU GOT it,” Colby says as he nods his head listening to me sing. “Okay, wait, your pitch is off slightly right there.” Sitting Indian-style in front of him on the floor, he leans over his guitar that’s resting in his lap and puts one of his hands on top of my stomach, and the other he wraps around me and presses into my back. “You have to make sure your posture and diaphragm are right. Now in unison, A-E-I-O-U.”

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