by Lisa De Jong
I chuckle and grabbing his chin, give it a shake. “Louis! Why are you being so inappropriate?”
“What? You’re almost forty years old. You should be well aware of how we operate.”
With that little comment, my face falls and I no longer care what guys think—ever. “Did you just say I’m almost forty?” My voice rises an octave with each word, and Louis’s eyes widen.
“Aww…shit!”
“You better be glad we’re in the middle of a club, Louis Mathias Vigier Hebert,” I say with a laugh, “or I would claw your eyes out.”
Louis’s eyes shimmer with mirth. “I’d like to see you try. I’m your baby, remember?”
“Aww…Lil’ Louie…Yes, I remember.” I grab him and hug him tight. He was my baby. I’d been seven when my parents had brought him home. I’ve doted upon his cute, little self everyday since. When he went off to the Naval Academy, I’d felt like a piece of me had died. “Love you, baby boy.”
I hear him groan at my endearment, which causes me to chuckle and hug him tighter. “Love you too, Cel.”
About that time, I hear them announce our boys. “Ladies and gentleman, the House of Blues is proud to present local talent and rising artists, the Dog Tags!” I quickly release Louis and spin around, clapping with everything I’ve got. When that’s not loud enough, I form a megaphone with my hands and shout into it.
I feel hands on my hips and turn to take in Bradford. I smile at him before my eyes drop to his lips. They move in and he places a lingering kiss just under my ear, causing me to shiver. He grins against my skin, and I relish the feel of his hands giving me a tight squeeze. I lean in to him as the guys make their way onto the stage.
Garner is the first to take the stage, so I turn and give Bonnie a huge grin and a thumbs up. She, of course, barely glances at me because she’s so mesmerized by the sight of him. He is good looking. Well over six feet, he towers over the rest of the Dog Tags. And I’m still astonished at the fact that he can get his mohawk to stand that high. He’s clearly in his element as he jogs onto stage and then starts a rousing drum cry for the rest of the band to enter to.
Next up, Tracy, the bassist, appears. Clearly out of his element, he just gives a little wave and heads straight for his instrument. He’s so adorable. I chant his name a little like I did Garner’s and spot a blush spreading over his face.
My laughter dies and my breath catches as my favorite Dog Tag and obvious obsession graces us with his presence. And that’s exactly what it looks like. He saunters downstage, doing his little praying bow; and I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Just by entering the room, he’s sucked all the oxygen out of it. I just stare. I don’t chant his name. I don’t look as Chris and then Zach take the stage. I can’t look away. I watch him strap his guitar on and warm up the crowd and am just enthralled. He has on his signature faded and frayed blue jeans and a tight, black, v-neck t-shirt. He’s wearing his black scuffed up boots. And his only embellishments are his heavy crucifix necklace and dog tags. I love the way his hair flops around as he bounces his head in time with the music. They’ve already spoken to the crowd a bit and begin the intro to their first song when I finally break the spell he unknowingly has over me.
When I feel Bradford moving in time to the music behind me, I close my eyes and chastise myself for being such a horrible person that I could have a good man’s arms, around me and be fantasizing about another man—and an unattainable one at that. Looking over to the side at our little group, I see his date, the doppelgänger. She’s blown away too, and she gets to go home with him. Jealousy licks its fiery tongue all the way up my body and tears spring to my eyes. What the hell? I’ve never been jealous of anyone. And I am OVER feeling like this about a man I cannot have.
Spinning in Bradford’s arms, I lace my hands around his neck and give him an inviting look. His look of surprise isn’t lost on me. I know I’m acting out of character, but I can’t seem to help it. My survival instincts have kicked in. I have to do something about all this…this angst. I let my eyes drop to his lips, and I lick mine. When his lips crush mine, I moan and tighten my hands in his hair. Coaxing my lips open with his own, I feel his tongue, insistent and warm, thrusting against mine, and I try to lose myself in his kiss. I swallow his groan and savor the feel of having him inside my mouth. His kiss catches me completely off guard as it is unexpectedly delicious. Then I’m not trying to lose myself. I have lost myself.
Making out like teenagers in the middle of a dance floor is a new one for me. I try to pull back a little, but Bradford’s having none of that. His hands snake from my hips all the way around me until I’m pulled tight against his front and evidence of the effect I’m having on him is quite clear. Finally, his kiss changes to a slow, sensual one and I let myself go and enjoy it for what it is and who it’s with. “Geez, Celeste,” he murmurs against my lips and places another sweet little kiss on the corner of my mouth. “What have you done to me?”
I open my eyes and find his pretty blue eyes, heavy with arousal, staring at me and realize I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve this good man giving me this incredible look like I’m this amazing person. I whimper a little at this revelation. If he knew I’d kissed him because I was so turned on by Adrian, it would hurt him, and I don’t want to hurt him. I can tell he’s falling for me, and falling for him would be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other if I didn’t already have the heavy weight that is Adrian pressing down on me. I envision myself walking out of here hand in hand with Bradford and not seeing Adrian again, and my heart protests violently. I’m starting to piss myself off! I need to figure this out and quick.
“About a hundred emotions just passed over those gorgeous eyes of yours, Celeste. So which is it? Are you happy? Do you want us to pursue this? Or is it one of the others? Regret? Fear? Anger?” he asks perceptively.
Unfisting my hands, I smooth his hair and run my hands down his shoulders; his muscles jerk as I do. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“It feels good. Too good.” He laughs. “You’re making me nervous.”
So honest. And I’m such a liar. “I think it was a terrific first kiss, so I’m hopeful. But, like you, I’m nervous.”
“I would say you can trust me. But isn’t that the first thing that someone who can’t be trusted says?” He gives a slight laugh before he continues, “How about I say that I’m completely into you and haven’t been into anyone in a very long time. I don’t do casual, and I don’t play around.”
I hear my sharp intake of breath and squeeze his arms as I respond, “I can’t believe we’re talking about this right here, right now.”
“Yeah, me either. It wasn’t how I saw it playing out in my mind, but I don’t want you to be scared of this, of us. And the kiss we just shared scared you. You can’t be rehashing that and coming to false conclusions before we have a chance to sort things out.” When his hold tightens on me possessively, I make a split-second decision. My heart crumbles with it, but amidst the rubble, the potential in the ruins for it to come back together into something beautiful with Bradford shines bright.
I run my hands back up his arms, his neck, and to his jaw. Bringing his face down to mine, I kiss him with everything I have. Every thought, every part of me focuses on him and this kiss. I hope he’s as intuitive as I think he is.
When he pulls back, I see nothing but relief and acceptance on his face. He understands. I spin back around in his arms as the band strikes up another song, and I don’t look at their rhythm guitarist for the rest of their set.
****
WHEN THE DOG Tags thank everyone for coming out, I’m ready to go. My feet are hurting, and my leg is throbbing. What was I thinking wearing these shoes? And now, I’m curious to spend some time with Bradford now that all of my attention is focused on him and him alone. Bradford has other ideas as does the rest of my group. They’re in it for the long haul. I need some air and the restroom so I head toward that area. Of course, when I make my way through t
he throng, the line for restroom is spilling into the hallway and the door says emergency exit only. Standing with my back to the hall, I decide I’ll wait in line and just people watch. One of the naughtiest songs ever comes on while we’re waiting for the main act, and I can’t help but move my hips in time with the rhythm.
Maroon 5’s “Kiwi” lyrics permeate my brain and flood it with vivid imagery as I wonder what it would feel like for me to make him moan. No, no, not him. I shake my head. I’m done with that. I try to lose myself in the music and forget about him and all that makes him him when I feel his warm breath on my neck and his rough hands on my thighs through the slits in my genie pants. My head falls back and a throaty moan escapes my lips. “Adrian, no,” I half-protest. “We can’t—”
“I know, Celeste, I know,” I hear him mutter. “Babe, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night. Don’t you know that I know. I don’t…don’t want to want you like this. But geez, babe, I’m only human and watching you dance with him when I knew you were thinking of me…”
My body moves and sways with his and my hands find their way around his neck as I hold him to me. When I feel his hands move toward my center, my eyes fly open; but they are unseeing as I would give anything if we were alone and not in this crowd.
“Adrian, I want to...”
“What, baby? What do you want? Whatever it is…whatever you want. I’ll get rid of Jennifer and Bradford. Is that what you want?”
I can’t speak as his tongue plays behind my ear and he runs little kisses up and down my neck, moaning and groaning as he goes. “These pants, babe. All I could think the whole show was how I wanted to rip these things off with my teeth. Fuck me,” he grinds out against my skin. And that’s exactly what I want. I whimper. “I’m gonna turn those whimpers into screams. Do you hear me, Celeste? You’ll be screaming my name.”
“Adrian, I…I want you, please.” He removes his hands from my thighs and grasps my hands tight. I feel him being jostled into me a bit. Then I hear him being slapped on the back.
“Adrian, dude, that was a great show,” says Louis. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, willing Louis away. I feel Adrian tense and I bury my face into his side and try, unsuccessfully, to melt into the wall. “Aw, man, sorry,” he says when he discovers Adrian is not alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He moves around us to give us our privacy, and I think I’m in the clear until I hear his muttered curse. Then louder he says, “Man, what are you thinking?” Mortified, I finally chance a glance at him. He’s gone pale. “Celeste, how long has this been going on?”
I feel like a teenager getting caught making out by her parents, and I want to die. I try to speak but nothing comes out. I clear my throat. “Louis, nothing is going on. There were just…just a few stolen moments.”
“You two are insane. Adrian, I think you were pretty clear on where they stood. If they find out—”
“I know, I know,” Adrian says, cutting him off. “It was a mistake. I got caught up. It won’t happen again.” I swear I can feel his temperature and his voice drop by ten degrees.
“Look, y’all get this shit straightened out. I’m going to go talk to Bradford. Damn, Celeste. Bradford doesn’t deserve this.”
I can only nod. Louis stomps off, leaving me with Adrian. I turn and dash down the hall with Adrian close on my heels. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a smaller hallway, and we stand there and stare at each other for a few beats until it empties out.
“I thought we’d agreed. Your girlfriend and my…boyfriend are out there. Why did you do that?”
“I know. Shit, I’m sorry. Why the hell are you wearing that damn outfit? And you wouldn’t look at me. What the hell was that about? The whole time I was playing I was watching you. Watching you dance with him, rub on him. And it killed me. And there isn’t shit I can do about it. Then I walk out, determined to ignore you, and there you are shaking your ass in those non-existent pants.”
My blood is boiling. He’s made it out like I purposefully set about to seduce him with my choice of clothing and dancing. Did I? No, I dress for myself. I like this outfit and didn’t think of him once when I chose it. “I didn’t wear this for you, Adrian. I wore it for me. I can’t help if you can’t keep your imagination and your hands to yourself.”
“Did you wear it for him or me or both of us? Are you done teasing the two of us? Toying with us?”
“What? I’m not toying with you.” And I’m not. That indicates pre-meditation. And these feelings are not pre-meditated. They just are. “I’d made a decision tonight. A final one. I’d decided that I was done having ‘moments’ with you. I’m done lusting after you, wanting you. And then you…you ruined all that with one touch. You have to stop! I can’t do this anymore! You’re killing me!”
“I’m killing you?” He pauses while he tries to catch his breath, and I can see him collecting his thoughts. He’s breathing hard like he’s just climbed the stairs to the Eiffel Tower. Completely worth it, completely exhilarating, completely energy zapping. But something once you’ve done it, you know you’ll never do it again. Would it be that way with us? A one time thrill to be had and remembered with fondness because you’d probably never have it again. “I’m…hear me when I say this...please. Why are we killing each other? We’re grown ass people. Do you know how many times, how many ways I’ve tried to come up with for us to be together? What if we say fuck them and be together?”
The roller coaster that my heart was on comes to a screeching halt. Isn’t this what I wanted? Adrian saying screw the consequences? Let’s be honest about how we feel and be together. Then I recall the scary enlightening conversation I had with Mr. OG today. Whatever they’re holding over him must be big. They don’t want us together. And they’ll stop at nothing to ruin both of us, right? Hot tears spill over my lashes and I watch as they hit the cold, gray concrete beneath my feet. I raise my eyes to his, and I see his own tears mirroring mine. It took a lot for him to say what he just said to me. I can see that. I can also see them tearing him apart, and I whimper aloud at that thought. I can’t let that happen. I can’t be that selfish. God knows I want to. A little run of pleasure isn’t worth the destruction it will surely inflict. I draw myself up, wipe my tears away, and meet his expression head on.
“Adrian, I may be physically drawn to you, but it’s not worth hurting everyone I care about for a little physical pleasure.” I steel myself and conjure my inner bitch that I pray I inherited from my mother. “And I’ve decided that I’m over you.”
The rapidness with which his tears dry should’ve been my first clue to run, but I don’t listen to my instincts and the ugliness that Adrian spews at me I know I deserve, but it’s still hard as hell to take. “Over me? You’re over me? You’re physically attracted to me? And I’m not worth it?” Oh my God, no! I’m in love with you, damn it! He sneers a laugh at me. “Over me? To be over me, babe, you’d have to have been under me. And if you’d ever been under me, there’d be no getting over me.” He takes a long stride and his arms come up to pin me in. “You are fucking chicken. You care about me, but you’re not a big enough person to do anything about it. Either that or you’re the biggest cock tease in existence. So which is it, Celeste? Which offense are you guilty of?”
“What do they have on you, Adrian? You tell me. What did Louis mean by ‘they’ don’t want us together? What offense are you guilty of?” I shout my questions back at him so that I’m mere centimeters from his face when I’m done. I feel like I’ve just swallowed ten thousand razorblades and they’re slicing up my insides as they make their way through my body. I hurt everywhere, and all I want do is curl up in his arms because I know he could make all that go away. I’m hurting myself and him, yet I can’t do anything about it. I want to touch him, but I know I have to be stronger than that.
And at that precise moment of my almost faltering, I thank God for a crowded club and good friends. “Umm…Celeste, are you OK?” It’s Farah and I’m so grateful I could ki
ss her. I turn my head and say, “Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be even better when Adrian lets me go.”
Taking a deep breath, Adrian throws his arms out dramatically. “Oh, I’ll let you go. No problem.” I stifle another sob and feel yet another razorblade slice, and it cuts deep.
“What’s going on here?” Farah asks incredulously.
“Nothing,” I say, “absolutely nothing. We’re done here.”
“I thought you two were friends. Why are you yelling at each other? You both look like you’ve been crying too.”
“I found out what Adrian’s been up to is all. And I’ve asked him to keep his distance,” I lie. Well, I guess now I have asked him to keep his distance.
His jaw clenches as he watches me walk away, leaving him with Farah and my shredded heart.
When I exit the hall, I grab the wall and bend over, clutching my stomach and fighting back tears. I need to get it together.
If only I’d made it further. I can’t move when I hear Farah say, “Adrian, what was happening between you two?” Adrian only grunts in reply. “You have to know that Celeste loves you, right? I know it may seem like I don’t know much because I don’t say much, but I know that. I’m an observer so to speak. And what I’ve observed is that you love each other and care about each other deeply. She’s just scared, but you can’t give up on her.” My eyes almost bug out of my head. How in the world does she know all that? My quiet Farah.
He exhales deeply. “Farah, you’re a nice girl. So I don’t want to offend you in any way at all, but if I loved Celeste I’d be a dead man ‘cause she’d chew me and spit me out with gusto. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that Celeste is my cross to bear. We all have them. Mine is just weighing heavily on me right now. But I’ll get it figured out—”
I don’t stick around to hear anymore. I can’t take any more heartache or heartbreak tonight. I stumble to the now empty restroom since the main act has made their way to the stage. I take a few minutes, fortifying my walls both mentally and physically. I fix my make-up and my hair and take calming breaths. Taking one last look at myself, I decide that that was the one and only time Adrian Hebert, or any man for that matter, would make me hurt like that.