Rhythm of Us: Book 2 Of The Fated Hearts Series (4 page)

“Thanks,” I answered with a slurred smile. “Where’d my best girl get to?”

“She wasn’t feeling good and left about six beers ago.” Xavier’s voice held a slight hint of derision. “Do you need help getting to my car?”

“Nah, I’m okay.” I walked a few steps behind him so I could look at his tight ass in those dark jeans. I also noticed how long his legs looked as they gobbled up the pavement on the way to his . . ., “Oh my fucking God.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Xavier replied smugly.

I stood still, barely breathing, and stared at the magnificent piece of American history in the parking lot. It was one of the finest pieces of metal to come out of Detroit. How had I not noticed it when I arrived? “Is that a 68 or 69?” I asked when I found my voice. The parking lot lights shined their approving beams on top of her shiny black paint. I expected to hear angels singing at any moment. “What a fucking beauty. What’s her name?”

“Midnight Mistress is a 69 Camaro SS,” Xavier said in a loving voice. He turned around and looked at me. I peeled my eyes off of Mistress when I heard him laugh softly. “Are you going to just stand there and stare or get in her and go for a ride?”

I snapped out of my trance and walked over to the passenger side and waited while Xavier unlocked the door for me. I slid onto the soft leather seats and leaned across to unlock his door for him. We shut our doors at the same time and exchanged an easy smile when he put the key in the ignition. My dick and Mistress’s engine roared to life simultaneously. I whimpered slightly when Xavier gave her some gas and drove toward the parking lot exit. He chuckled softly letting me know he heard me, but I wasn’t embarrassed. I was pretty sure he understood how I felt.

I looked out over the long, sleek hood and all I could imagine was bending Xavier over it while I drove long and hard inside him. I had one hand fisted in his hair and the other one holding him down against the hood. I closed my eyes and could even hear the animalistic sounds I made as I fucked him. This man affected me in ways I never dreamed possible at this juncture in my life. After all, I was thirty years old and had never been involved in a relationship.

“You’ll need to tell me where I’m going,” Xavier said.

“Oh,” I said, not realizing he’d come to a complete stop.
How long had we sat here while I had very dirty thoughts about what I wanted to do to him on the hood of his own car?
I was thankful the interior of the car was dark enough to hide my raging hard-on. “Turn left,” I instructed him and forced my mind to focus on giving him directions so I could go home and replay my car fantasy when I was alone and could do something about it.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Xavier said casually when he pulled into the driveway of my house.

“I like it a lot,” I replied. “My neighbor, Mrs. Hernandez, is also the property owner. She’s really a sweet lady and I’ve been happy here, but I want to buy my own home someday and have a bit more privacy.” I thought about Mrs. Hernandez’s attempts to fix me up with her granddaughter and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Xavier sound confused over my sudden laughter.

“Mrs. Hernandez is always trying to fix me up with her granddaughter, Marisol.” I looked over at Xavier and saw the confusion on his face that matched his voice.

“That’s a bad thing?”

“Marisol is a beautiful young woman, but she’s not the one for me,” I answered honestly. “If Mrs. Hernandez knew my track record then she wouldn’t be trying to fix me up with her precious Marisol.”

Xavier shrugged casually and turned to look out the windshield, but I could tell his mind was working something out by the scowl on his face. I wished he’d just come out and say what was on his mind or ask me what he wanted to know. Instead, we sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“Thanks for the ride, Xavier.” My voice broke into his inner musings and he looked at me with a small smile on his face. “I rarely drink and I’m sorry you were inconvenienced. Well, not really since you drove me home in Mistress.” I ran my hands lovingly over the dashboard for a minute before I realized I was making a complete ass of myself. Again. “Goodnight.” I opened the door and started to climb out.

“What time do you want to pick up your car tomorrow?”

Did I hear him right? Was he offering?
I kept my body moving before I was tempted to pull him over the console and into my arms. “Anytime is fine by me,” I replied casually.

“How about Mistress and I pick you up around 10:00 am?”

I turned and leaned down to look into the car. He wasn’t looking at me, but continued to look out the windshield. He had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and his posture was rigid. His offer to help me didn’t match his body language, and I knew I should decline.

“Sounds great,” I said instead, not willing to pass up the opportunity to spend time with him. “See you tomorrow.” I stood up straight, closed the door, and walked away without looking back.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP
.
It was the sound of my sneakers pounding the pavement as I tried to outrun my nightmares and demons. I pushed myself harder and longer, trading one addiction for another – drugs for exercise. I felt the jolt from the impact of running in my knees, my chest was burning from the exertion of moving air in and out of my lungs, but I couldn’t stop. Not yet.

The nightmares the night before were the worst ones I’d had in weeks, maybe months, as I worked to get myself clean from the drugs I got hooked on while trying to cope with the abusive relationship I had with my band manager, Damien Diamond. I wasn’t positive what triggered the nightmares this time, but suspected it was being around alcohol along with fighting my attraction to Ben St. Claire.

Ben’s gorgeous image immediately popped up in my head and I pushed it away, choosing to concentrate on getting myself healthy. Fantasizing over my sister’s sorta-boyfriend wasn’t the way to get healthy. Even if Ben was gay and was interested in me, I’d avoid a relationship with him. The last thing I needed was to get involved with a guy, no matter how great he was. I had my recovery to focus on and I had lost faith in my own judgment after my last relationship. Besides, it was pretty arrogant to think that someone like him would want a fuck-up like me.

I’d come a very long way in a few short months, I knew that, but I still had a long way to go in my recovery. I didn’t find myself craving Ecstasy or weed as much anymore, but I still hadn’t forgiven myself for my role in my own downfall. I battled self-hatred far more than I battled temptation to drugs and I needed to find a way to come to peace with myself. If I didn’t, I’d be stuck in my dark, stagnant past forever.

What hurt the most was losing my ability to write music. My brain was completely silent of new lyrics and melodies and had been ever since I returned to LA last June. Gray and Chase came to my rescue when they were in LA last April on a business trip. I was a hot fucking mess at that point and I hadn’t even been taking drugs then. The drug usage didn’t start until I foolishly let my bandmates guilt trip me into coming back, not to mention the threats Damien made if I didn’t return. I boarded a flight to LA last June, but landed in hell instead. I let the drugs numb my pain and misery, but only ended up hurting myself even more in the long run. I hated the out of control way I felt when I was high and I hated myself even more for being weak and allowing Damien to mistreat me.

Damien watched my every goddamned move, so attending counseling sessions to get clean wasn’t a possibility for me. I found an online counseling site and connected with a sponsor who agreed to chat with me online and exchange emails. I started cutting back on the Ecstasy a little at a time until I was clean. I would fake my high around my bandmates; they were too fucked up to notice.

When I rejoined the band, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t allow anything sexual to happen between Damien and me again, but I gave in to him the first night I took Ecstasy, or Vitamin E as Damien called it. I knew better than to start taking that shit, but I just wanted to get lost in the euphoric high it gave me. I had started to spiral into a depression once I returned to LA and E gave me a break from the darkness. Damien promised me he’d ease up on his jealousy and possessiveness, but the verbal abuse only got worse as soon as I gave in to him again.

He had been consumed by thoughts of me with other men the entire two months I was away from him and the band. There were some nights after my return that he went on such violent fits that I actually feared for my life, but he never physically hit me until the night he learned about my sponsor, Kevin Smithson, after going through my phone and email while I performed onstage. That was the night that Damien Diamond went too far and I left the band for good.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart pounded in my chest, but more from the painful memories than exertion from running. I needed to get my mind on healthier things and people instead of drugs and Damien. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep Ben’s image out of my head. The sounds he made when he lovingly caressed Midnight Mistress made my dick hard enough to drill through concrete. I was so turned on by the time I got to his house that I couldn’t even look at him.
Why the fuck did I offer to drive him to his car?

Physically, I felt better than I had in years. I started working out every time I craved drugs. All of the exercise and healthy living had a side effect I hadn’t anticipated though, it made me horny as hell and all I wanted to do was fuck. I’d always had a healthy appetite for sex, but this went beyond anything I was used to. Throw in being closed inside a car with Ben for fifteen minutes and I nearly jerked my dick raw after I got home from his house. Just like that, my hard-on was back in full force.
Damn it!
My dick didn’t care if Ben was straight or gay and it definitely didn’t care about my “no relationship until I felt stronger” rule. It was a selfish bastard and just wanted relief.

Jogging back to my sister’s house with an erection was awkward to say the least. What was even more awkward was rushing into the bathroom to do something about my unwelcomed stiffy and finding my sister kneeling over the toilet while she vomited and retched until there couldn’t have been anything left inside her. All of her vomiting worked wonders on deflating my erection, I didn’t know what to do for her except to hold her hair back and wipe her face with a cool rag once she flushed the toilet and sat up.

“El.” I crouched down in front of her and cupped her face in my hands. “What’s wrong? You left the bachelor party early and now you’re vomiting. Is there a virus going around?”

“It’s nothing. Maybe something I ate at the party.” Ellie tried to brush my hands away so she could avert her eyes.

“Not so fast,” I told her, searching her eyes. “I didn’t see you eat anything at the party. So what’s really going on?”

“Then it was something I ate before the party,” she replied weakly as she tried to stand up. I offered my hand to her and helped her rise to her feet. “Please don’t worry about me, Xavier. I’m going to be okay.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and laid her head against my chest. “I could probably use some saltines and Sprite though. Could you get those for me while I brush my teeth?”

“Sure.” I dropped a kiss on the top of her head and went to the kitchen to get those items for her. I poured a glass of the lemon-lime soda that Gram used to give me every time I had an upset stomach and grabbed a packet of crackers from the cabinet.

Something more was going on with Ellie; I felt it in my bones, but what? How long had she been sick and why wouldn’t she tell me the truth? My mind raced with worrisome thoughts of cancer or something equally as scary. I had three constants in my life – Gram, Ellie, and Chase. The thought of losing one of them was enough to bring me to my knees, but I stood strong in the small kitchen of the house Ellie loved so damn much. I closed my eyes and prayed to God, hoping that he was still listening to a fuck-up like me.

“Are you meditating?” Ellie’s voice broke into my thoughts. She sounded normal and not weak like she had been minutes before.

“Praying,” I retorted. “I’m worried about you.”