I gasped. I didn’t know what to say, how to feel. All I knew was that whatever he felt in his heart at that moment, I felt it too. The sincerity in his voice caused me to swallow hard the lump that had been forming in my throat. I looked down at his tattoo as the tears slipped silently down my cheeks. All along, he’d been walking through life, hoping for something. And all along, the hope he sought was me.
Slowly, he leaned toward me. For a split second, we shared the air between us. This moment… it was exhilarating and scary. I felt lost, and yet I felt right at home. Inhaling simultaneously, our lips united, and the world around us disappeared.
The moment his lips pressed to mine, a pulse of electricity throbbed deep down, momentarily taking my breath away. I succumbed to the gentle pressure of his mouth on mine and kissed him back. Softly, his tongue parted my lips and delved into my mouth massaging my tongue with his. Pressing his body flush against mine, he walked me backwards until the small of my back was pressed against the counter behind us.
Chris moaned, grasping the sides of my face and weaving his fingers into my hair. He gently pulled me toward him, kissing me with reckless abandon. My hands found their way to the back of his head as I desperately tugged him closer to me. I felt like my body could take flight with the feelings that were swirling throughout it. The emotion behind his kiss awakened sensations inside of me that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. Or maybe ever. I melted into him, allowing the moment to overtake me. My heart felt full. Everything was perfect.
Chris ended his kiss, slowly pulling away to look at me. “Wow,” he whispered. “That was… just… wow.” He closed his eyes, leaning into me. I closed mine too, appreciating the peace between us as I breathed in the cool, refreshing scent of his cologne.
We held onto each other, savoring the moment for several minutes. Our bodies yearned for more, but our time together had all too quickly come to an end. Gently touching his forehead to mine, he groaned, “Damn, I wish I didn’t have to leave again.”
I peered up at him, staring into those dark windows to his soul. “I wish you didn’t have to leave either,” I said, clutching him to me as if I never wanted to let go. Atlanta could wait. I needed him more.
“Tonight has been wonderful,” he said softly. “Every night before I fall asleep on my rat trap tour bus, I’m going to think of this moment right here with you.”
He leaned in again, softly brushing his lips with mine, and whispered, “You’re everything I’ve been wishing for, Salem.”
I smiled under the heat of his breath and felt myself falling head over heels for Chris King.
The daily routine for me was always the same old, boring rut. Weekends were even more so. Sometimes Alexis spent the weekends at her dad’s house or with a friend. On those days, the highlight of my day was hearing Chris’s voice on the phone.
Concert or no, Chris called me every night. Sometimes, I’d get the call early, before a show. Sometimes, it was late, around two in the morning. Sometimes I’d hear loud, raucous partying in the background. Sometimes I’d hear silence. Some nights he’d be drunk off his ass, chalking it up to ‘life as a rock star’. Sometimes he’d be stone-cold sober. Nevertheless, he’d always call to say goodnight. Every night, it ended the same way.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Chris would whisper into the phone. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Me either,” I’d say, sadness lacing my tone. “Hopefully soon.”
“Goodnight, beautiful. Sweet dreams.”
I’d always slip off to dreamland with a smile on my face.
“Meet me in Jacksonville,” Chris pleaded with me late one night on the phone.
“I can’t… I’ve got Alexis–”
“Bring her too,” he insisted, sounding desperate. “I’ll get two tickets to fly you down here for the weekend. She’ll be back in time to go to school on Monday. I need to see you.”
I debated his offer. God, I missed him so much. “I can’t. Her first volleyball game is this weekend. I have to be here for that.”
“I understand.” The disappointment in his voice was palpable. “Well, maybe I can fly you down to Tampa or out to New Orleans when we get there.”
The ache inside of me grew a little bigger. “I’m so sorry… I’d love to see you. I miss you. I just can’t do it this weekend.”
He sighed, long and loud. “It’s okay. We’ll work something out. I can’t wait to see you again.”
I swallowed, wishing I could reach through the phone and touch him. “I can’t wait to see you either.” We hadn’t exactly defined what we were to each other, afraid to label it, but every day without each other, our longing grew stronger. With every phone conversation, our feelings grew deeper. All I knew was that with each passing day, I felt more connected to him than ever.