23. Time After Time

CHAPTER 23

TIME AFTER TIME

IRON I don't think it's something bad, but it's something. "Okay, so it's a guy I met the other night, and he wants me to go to this stupid art show. I don't want to go alone and you guys are my artsy fartsy friends!" She pouts. "Okay, well, Jamie was my artsy fartsy friend?—"

"Wingman," I interrupt to correct her, pulling my laptop out and sitting it on the coffee table so we can go over the pictures we've got so far.

"Same thing…which is why I texted this morning, but then I figured out there's this whole thing with you guys and so I came here to beg you to go to the party…and of course, give you a hard time."

I narrow my eyes and stare at her. "There's more, come on."

"You come on! Oh wait, you already did! Haha." She rolls her eyes and takes another giant bite of a second donut, spilling powdered sugar all down the front of her shirt, but she doesn't seem to care. She's far too wrapped up in our sex life now that she knows it exists. "Okay, so, fair warning, I'm inviting you because I really like this guy and I want to hook up with him. But it's a fancy party and we can get Lexi in a skimpy, hot dress!"

"Fuck you," Lexi yells from the kitchen.

"What? Jamie looks stupid hot in a suit, so you get your eye candy, too!"

I laugh. "I'm going to take a shower." I kiss Lexi's head as she passes by me before I pull off Dani's knit cap and toss it on the floor. This is why we couldn't date. We're too much like siblings.

"Wait, but what about the party?" Dani whines. "Come on guys, he's really cute, and he's, well, probably rich or whatever. Seriously, I need this! He said he'd do some bad ass cover art for my next album!"

"It's up to you, Angel." I head for the bedroom and stop. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I'm acting like I live here. Is it cool if I?—"

"Yes, you have earned the right to my shower."

"I would hope so," Dani mumbles, picking sprinkles off her donut and popping them in her mouth. "He's earned the right to your pussy."

"Dani! Keep that up and I'll say no to the party!" Lexi yells, throwing a pillow at Dani's head while I laugh. "Why did we even let you in here?"

"Because I brought donuts! And coffee! And there's never food in this house!"

I lift my cup to her in salute and then turn to head into the bedroom.

"Wait," Lexi calls out while flipping through the picture files on the laptop. "Can we get some of these printed out today? I was thinking of setting up a giant visual mood board we could present in next week's meeting. A mixed media thing. I can throw in some graphics and a few pieces from the flyers and leave behinds I picked up the other day, too."

"Oh, thank god! I thought she was going to ask you to shower together, and I was going to throw up a little. I told you that you'd like her, didn't I?"

"When did you tell him that?" Lexi teases, sticking her tongue out at me, then turning her attention back to Dani. "How about I tell you by tomorrow? Let us get the week planned out and if we can work it out, then we might go to the party. Might!"

"Yes! I'll bring a dress over for you tomorrow so you can try it on! I promise, it won't count toward the office pool."

"We can pick out some prints to send off and I'll pick them up later." I set my cup down and move back to Lexi, rubbing her shoulders. "Since the idea is out there now, why don't you come shower with me? Let's leave Dani out here to take care of the neighbors when they come knocking."

"Yeah, yeah, you two lovebirds go get it on in the shower or whatever you kids do these days. I still have some errands to run, and if I'm not home before my sister wakes up and she finds out I drank the last of the coffee, I'm going to be unalived! I'll text you the details about the party later."

"Pretty sure we're both older than you are, Dani. But don't change." I move the laptop, scoop Lexi up off the couch, and toss her over my shoulder, slapping her ass as she screams in laughter.

We're huddled under the warm spray of water, unable to keep our hands or mouths off one another. I'm licking the small trails of water that cascade over her shoulders and she's playing with my hair and giggling. As badly as I want to be inside her, I can't get the things her stepfather said to her out of my head.

"Lexi, can I ask you something?" I nibble that spot just below her ear, and she digs crescent shapes into my ass in return.

"If it's, can we have sex again? Yes."

"No. I mean, I want to, but it's not that." I step back, feeling the cool air against my exposed skin. "Your stepfather, your mother, I don't get it. Why do you even talk to them when they treat you like that? You're this magnificent ray of happiness and light, and all they want to do is snuff you out and turn you into a shell of yourself. Or worse."

She tips her head back into the stream of water, trying to cover up the tears, but it doesn't work. As her eyes redden and she sniffles, I lean back into her and kiss just under each of her eyes, tasting the salt against her soft skin.

"You don't have to tell me, Cherry Blossom. I only want you to have better. You don't deserve any of that, and they don't deserve you."

"My mom has always been a bit, I dunno. Strange," she starts in a whisper. "When Dad was still around, it wasn't this weird obsession with religion, but there were still other things. Dad tried to be the fun parent. He worked hard and was home late, but always made time for us. Sometimes, he'd get home, and we'd be asleep, and he'd come in and wake us up to hear about our day, sometimes giving us candy or presents. Mom hated that so much. Those were the nights we'd lay in bed hearing her scream at him and throw things."

"She could be fun, though!" She pivots quickly, trying to convince herself as much as me. "On her good days, she'd take us to the park, and we'd meet Dad for lunch there. On her bad days, she wouldn't leave her room, and we would have to fend for ourselves until Dad got home. We didn't understand it, but he did. He'd always tell us that no matter what she said or did, our mother loved us, but sometimes she just had a hard time and needed a break."

"Did she ever go to a doctor or try to get help?"

"He tried to convince her, but she wouldn't go. She'd always have some excuse." She wipes her face and straightens, trying to put on a brave front, even though she doesn't need to with me. "Anyhow, just before he died, he started to tell us to make sure we always took care of our mother. It's part of why my sister, Bex, thinks his death wasn't an accident. It was, though; they investigated it. We spent a few years with an aunt so we could finish high school. As soon as we graduated, we moved to California. Mom and Ronnie were already married by then, and they moved here because she claimed she wanted to be closer to us. More like to control us."

"So, you're trying to fulfill a vague promise you made to your father when you were a kid?"

"You sound like my sister now," she groans, kissing my neck while I hold her.

"I don't mean it to hurt you. It's what it basically boils down to, isn't it?" She nods reluctantly. "Where is your sister?"

"She moved. When my dear old stepdad set up the new branch of his church, I'd hoped it would fail, and they'd have to go back east. The opposite happened and, in a way, they chased Bex off."

"You two are twins, right? Lex and Bex? Who's older?" I change my questions up, not wanting to upset her more.

"Bex by an entire minute. Rebecca, but she goes by Bex because Bex and Lex together is fun. Plus, Mom wanted us to go by Becky and Ali or some shit—she still calls us that. Well, when she's not calling us other things."

"That must have been rough when she left."

"Yeah. My sister is ridiculously smart. Like a full scholarship to UCLA smart, but she's also a party and fun-times kind of girl. She got pregnant—it wasn't the first time—but this time, mom found out about it, called her every name she could think of, and my sister didn't take it. She packed up, left me some money, and moved. She put the kid up for adoption, got a really excellent job that allows her to travel, and right now, I think she's still in Europe, doing an ‘architectural tour of the world', as she calls it."

"So your mom doesn't want you to be like your sister because your sister is smart, successful, and has her own life? Looks like you're failing in that regard because you're just like her."

She chuckles, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. "Mom thought we'd follow her and Ronnie into this whole religious devotion. No drinking, no drugs, no tight clothes, no dancing, and most definitely no boys. Failing there, too." She smiles, but it's sad and distant. "But I still go. I still try to make her…happy…proud."

"I'm coming with you," I growl possessively in her ear. She giggles, and her arms wrap around my neck as her nose rubs mine. God, the things this woman does to me.

"Unless you mean you're about to fuck me stupid again, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I mean, I'm going with you to your parent's. Tonight and every other night. And if she tries anything, I'm going to bend you over that dinner table, hike up your fucking skirt—because that's what you're going to wear there—and shove my cock so deep inside you that your mother is going to know exactly who you pray to."

"She'd die. Ronnie would watch, sick fuck."

"I'll just have to knock his ass out."

"This is exactly why you're not going with me later. I don't want to start a war, James. I am going to go, do what I have to, and leave. If you're there, I can't control what's going to happen and I wouldn't put it past them calling the cops on you." She takes my face in her hands, her nails lightly scratching at my stubble. "There will be plenty of people around tonight, so they'll behave. Besides, you're the one I get on my knees for."

"You looked so pretty on your knees for me," my voice cracks as I think back to her how incredible her mouth felt all over me. My hands wander over her soft skin. "Fuck, Alexis. You're extraordinary. I want you all to myself. I want to never leave this apartment again."

"You're a menace."

"I can't help it, you bring out this absolutely devious side of me." Shit, I'm already getting hard again just thinking about all the ways I want to make her mine. "You…you remind me how to be happy and your strength gives me hope."

"Strength? Yeah, I don't have any of that."

"You do. You might not see it, but you do. You haven't let them win, you haven't given up your life for what they want from you."

"Barely, but, uhm, thanks I guess. I tried to warn you that my life is chaos and drama. Even told you I'm not the girl for you."

I close my eyes with a heavy sigh, but she stops me, putting her fingers over my lips. I love this woman. I've fallen madly and hopelessly in love with everything about her. My father used to call it the Artist's Trap because he knew far too many who fell into it. You meet someone, think they're your muse, and fall hard within hours of meeting them. Usually it only lasts a few days or weeks and they snap out of it, but sometimes it's how you find your soulmate. I want to tell her everything, pour my heart out and lay my soul bare for her right here.

Her fingers play against my skin, slipping over my hip to the scars, and suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. I don't talk about these to anyone—not therapists, not my best friends, no one. The people who needed an explanation get a story about falling off my bike or car accidents. The weird thing is, I want to tell someone. I just can't ever get the words out. I owe her since she's already poured her heart out to me, but I don't think I can offer her the answers she thinks she wants. Not now, not yet.

"Jamie?"

"I—I—I can't. I can't." She moves her hand around my back and away from the scars, holding me close to her. I take a minute to realize she's rocking me as she pulls my head to her shoulder.

"It's okay. You don't owe me anything."

"I—I wanted… you told me…shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Where'd you grow up?"

I lift my head and look at her like she's got two extra sets of eyes. "What?"

"I only told you what I could, and I don't expect you to rip open old wounds just to tell me about your past. Just tell me the simple things, the things that aren't going to make you freeze up and freak out. I'll figure out your tells, warning signs, and triggers, and with any luck, learn how to help you through the rough patches."

It baffles me, because it's exactly what I just did for her.

"Here… I grew up here. My, uhm, my dad raised me after he and my m…m…" I can't say it.

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything, I promise."

Thirty fucking years later and I still can't say it. I can't talk about her without shutting down, but Lexi doesn't push me. I've talked about my father around her before, told her how he took me to our breakfast spot and took care of me. She knows I can talk about him. Just like at the beach when she didn't ask what made me non-verbal for so long. She's leading me down paths I can open up about, the same way I did for her. She's better at it, though.

I kiss her forehead, holding my lips there for an eternity before I pull away just enough to whisper, "Thank you."

"We should get out of here before we run out of hot water."

We spend the next few hours talking and getting a little work done in between short make out sessions and long gazes into her eyes. I tell her about my dad and his art, but I keep it all surface level stuff, nothing deep. It feels good to talk about it, and by the way she listens and the questions she asks, I can tell she cares.

By the time she needs to start getting ready, we have half of the presentation ready to go. She's mocked it up on the computer and has placeholders for the remaining images on the physical board. I didn't even realize how much she'd done. I just took pictures, but she's turned them into fucking art. There are samples of brochures, trade show displays, and even packaging options.

I stare at her screen and my heart sinks. I've been distracting her and getting nothing done, while she's been busting her ass.

"Call me tomorrow? We can go over everything else we need and make a plan of attack." she says as she stands between my legs while I sit on the edge of her bed.

"I'm sorry, Angel."

"For what?"

"You did all this work, and I didn't do a fucking thing. I feel like shit about that."

"This? Oh, this was all easy. Besides, you took the pictures, you ordered the prints, you're going to develop the film. Don't worry, when this is done, the work will be pretty even. Promise."

She kisses the end of my nose before she pulls a band t-shirt over her head, trying to get dressed. I'm not making it easy, kissing her neck and running my fingers over her body.

"I'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Anything you need." I cup her breasts and play with her nipples through her bra.

"I can't, pretty boy. I need to do this so Ronnie and my mom fuck off for a little while."

"Or we could just stay here all day and ignore them. I'd even let you work on your other stuff for a few minutes just so I could interrupt you."

"As much as I would love to, I think I need a break." Her hair falls over her shoulders like a pink waterfall as she flashes the cutest smile. "Besides, didn't you say you had to go somewhere today?"

Shit. I almost forgot Coop was coming home today. He'll ride my ass hard if I don't show up for a standard pizza and beer decompression day. Last time I missed out on it, he didn't get a call back from an audition and he blamed me for it—I'm pretty sure he still does. I also promised him I'd help get the place ready for his brother to move in with him.

"Yeah, I kind of do. I can pick up the prints tomorrow morning and bring them over. I'll get the other shots developed, too." Letting go of her is hard and I think it's harder knowing that she's headed straight into the lion's den. I wish she'd let me go with her and be by her side, but she's right to tell me to stand down. Her parents are evil and I can already tell they'd do anything to keep their hooks in her. We have to tread lightly until we figure out what to do next.

At our cars, it takes twenty minutes to stop kissing and trying to start new conversations, holding back the inevitable goodbye that's coming. When we run out of time, I close her door, telling her I'll miss her and reminding her to call me when she's home. My stomach twists as I climb into my Jeep and watch her drive away.