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My fingers grasped for his hair that had been shorn away. "I demand foreplay."
"I only got, like, five minutes." Jake bit his bottom lip and then attacked me with greedy, lingering kisses and expert, groping hands. He played me like his favorite instrument; with familiarity and fervor.
It was over too quickly. From start to finish, he was on me in a heartbeat and then he was getting dressed again. Jake was never a quickie-type of lover. He liked to take his time, so the fast encounter, though satisfying, felt very wham-bam.
"I'm working on something." Jake fussed with the buttons of his fly, pushing my hands away when I went behind him, trying to unbutton him. "A surprise."
"Is it good?" I smiled, though I saw the stress behind his eyes.
"Baby, it's me. Of course it's good." I rolled my eyes at the way he cockily tilted his head. Jake attacked me once again, pressing my lips apart with his, sucking and biting at my bottom lip in one fluid motion. I shamelessly moaned as one of his glorious hands clamped around my neck while the other smacked my backside.
And then, nothing. I opened my eyes to catch him running out the bathroom door.
His scent lingered, but I was alone. Empty without him. But I had to suck it up because this was the tour. It was his work, not a vacation and I was not going to get my way all the time. If things went like I wanted, Jake and I would have made love through the day, left for the gig when we felt like it, and that guitarist chick, that wannabe band chick, would have been lost in the desert, never to be heard from again.
I had to follow along, play the game. I wasn't going to worry about how Jake seemed to be pushing me away on the day the band was meeting up with that girl. I was not going to wonder why Jake didn't want to ride with me in our car. I would not let the presence of some random girl turn me into one of those petty, jealous bitches. It was my insecurities-my issues-that made it seem like there was a chasm growing between us. It wasn't really there. At least, that's what I told myself every time those words repeated.
"Not yet."
Brushing my hair, I couldn't help but see his exit as running off and shuddered at those two cursed words. He doesn't want her.
Not yet . . .
Jake had his reasons for leaving without me, I told myself. Those meetings he mentioned had to be very important.
Avery was just waking up when I opened the front blinds. The van was already gone. I started sifting through the room to pack.
"Didn't go so good with Jake, huh?" Though she'd just woken up, her voice sounded smooth.
"It's fine. I was going to let you sleep."
"Who can sleep with Jakes' loud mouth running? Jeez, he's a performer-everything with him is so theatrical." She sat up, stretching.
I stopped packing. "What do you mean, 'theatrical'?"
"Dude. I totally heard him." She stared unabashed, "I didn't know you were into dirty talk."
My face went tomato red.
"I had to sleep somewhere. Scratch that, try to sleep somewhere." She hopped from the bed, fully clothed. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"Don't you want to shower?"
"After we get there. First, we got to check-in and track down that chick that's giving Jake so much trouble."
"What is his deal?" I muttered, anxious to change the subject, but still bothered by Jake's overt aversion to Band Chick. "Since when did I become the stable one in this relationship?"
Avery laughed. "Times, they are a-changing."
Jake occupied most of my conversation on the short trip to Glendale. The late sun was beating on my arm in the passenger seat as I blathered on about how he was confusing me. Yes, he wanted to marry me, but that didn't tell me his central concern; why was he allowing this chick in his band if it stressed him out so much? If he was so very sure it was a bad idea, why didn't he just put his foot down? They would be with a label one way or another and could hire a studio musician, or hold more auditions in L.A. They didn't need that chick or her San Diego style.
Avery just drove and listened, and barely spoke herself, except to offer the occasional sound of agreement. I waited in the car while she checked us in. The whole time, I was scanning the lot, looking for their van, but it was useless. They were heading straight to the Brick Lounge.
My mind was covered in a haze of concern.
Was she with them already?
I barely noticed we ended up in a room at the back of the motel or that Avery nearly hit a motorcycle trying to park. I did notice how small and plain our room was. Most of the limited space was taken up by two full size beds. But it had a decent air conditioner and a good-size bathroom. The cool air of the dark room hit me and I plopped the bags onto the floor and folded myself onto the bed, totally exhausted.
