But to look at you, that’s a dance with death
He’d written the first lyrics to our duet.
And in doing so, he’d stolen the first part of my heart.
I gave myself ten seconds to stay on his bed, beneath his weight, while I collected as many memories as possible: he’d liked when I tugged on his hair, his sheets smelled fresh and masculine, the moan he’d emitted as he’d come undone inside of me was the single most delicious sound I’ve ever heard.
As soon as the ten seconds were up, I took a breath, and sat up. Silently, I rolled off the bed to find my clothes. Jason mimicked my actions on the opposite side, his eyes cast toward the ground.
“I meant it when I said I don’t want anything serious right now,” he explained, running a hand through his hair, agitated about something he clearly didn’t want to tell me about. Maybe he was just upset he’d had sex with me. Perfect, just what a girl wants to think about after she just had her legs wrapped around a guy like a python in heat.
“Seems to me like you’re the one hung up on it. Like I said, we agree on that subject,” I said, still breathing heavy from our… whatever it was we’d just done. It definitely wasn’t lovemaking, but it wasn’t just sex either. I tried not to mull it over since he’d just nailed home the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me.
“Things are complicated for me,” he started to explain, holding his head between his hands. I wanted to jab my fist into his mouth so he’d stop ruining the moment.
“I get it. So, just let it be,” I said, realizing that I was a simple person. I just wanted good chocolate, my guitar, and maybe some sex every now and then. Maybe Jason and I were perfect for one another.
He looked back at me as I slid on my bra and tugged my shirt overhead. Staring back at him made me realize that the millions of thoughts swirling through my head before we’d had sex were suddenly silenced. I felt calm and sated, and when the lyrics came to me, I smiled because maybe Jason and I had been right after all. A little sex never hurt anyone, especially when it got the creative juices flowing.
I retrieved my guitar from the couch and grabbed a pen so I could record the words he’d whispered into my ear and add a verse of my own. I didn’t overanalyze them or ponder where they’d come from. I wrote them down, gave Jason a nod, and exited his room to give him some privacy.
I’d risk it all,
For you I would
You’d make me fall,
And fall I would
Chapter Seventeen
I woke up the next morning craving Jason Monroe. Not him as a person, I didn’t want his past or his future. I wanted another thirty minutes of heaven. The craving was something I knew I couldn’t fight. I’d never been addicted to anything in my life, save for caffeine, but I’d heard that it only took one time to become addicted to a drug.
Great. I was officially a drug addict.
I rolled over in bed, trying to ignore my trainer’s Skype call ringing out in the background of the room. I should have been up and at it an hour ago, but I couldn’t leave my bed for fear of starting the day. I had wanted a one-night stand with Jason and that’s what I got, but now I wanted more. A two-night stand. Surely, that’s a thing, right?
I decided to get Cammie’s advice about the subject because she never steered me wrong. (Well, most of the time. She did tell me that I wouldn’t regret dyeing my hair black when I was fifteen. Also, she let me try out the bang trend.) I sent her a text in case she was working in the studio.
Brooklyn: Heyyy. Just for conversation’s sake… Would it be wrong to have sex with Jason?
It took her five, long minutes to reply and I was going crazy the entire time.
Cammie: Good morning to you too. It would be wrong not to. Are you going to have sex with him? I didn’t even think you guys were friends?
Brooklyn: Oh, we aren’t.
Cammie: Do it. #YOLO. There couldn’t possibly be any consequences….
Her sarcasm oozed all the way from California.
Brooklyn: You’re right. I should come back to LA and just write with him over the phone or something.
Cammie: No. Just relax and enjoy life for once. Jeez. You’re not allowed to come back yet, and don’t forget that I’m coming to visit you in a few days!
Brooklyn: Okay. Have you talked to Grayson yet?
Cammie: Gotta go. Studio started.
I rolled my eyes at how childish she was being about the Grayson thing. I swore to call him myself as soon as I finished my workout and shower. With a groan, I sat up and stretched, changed into workout clothes, unrolled my yoga mat in the center of the room, and called my trainer back.
“Since you didn’t answer my first call, you’re doing an extra set of everything,” my trainer said with a cheery voice as soon as the video call connected.