I kicked my flip flops off and settled myself under a shady tree on one of the grassy public areas around campus and lost myself in the story of your not-so-typical love triangle. I was instantly caught up in the emotions of the threesome that they all loved each other and their struggle to find happiness. Normally, I didn’t read books about ménages and people who claimed to be in love with two people at once, but this book was a part of a rock band series that I absolutely loved, so I thought I’d give it a chance. That way of thinking really never made sense to me before, but the further I read the more I found myself cheering for all three characters to be together. It didn’t hurt that the author did such an amazing job of writing sex scenes that got me so hot and bothered, I had to pack up early to go home for a cold shower before I could go into the store. I could not wait for Mason to return home the following afternoon.
Just as I was getting ready to stand up and fold the blanket, I felt a light tickle on my calf. Sitting up to investigate, I saw a huge orange and yellow Monarch butterfly that had landed on my leg, centimeters from the tattoo of its tribal-inspired twin. My heart began to pound and my palms got clammy as images of Ash and the sound of his voice overwhelmed me. My chest physically ached as my heart swelled at the happy memories and shattered at the devastating one. I was frozen sitting there watching the beautiful creature walk up and down my leg, almost as if it didn’t even notice my presence. Tears soaked my cheeks as I realized that I was never going to be free of the hold he had on me. Time wasn’t healing my wounds and being happy with someone else who showered me in love and adoration didn’t weaken the enigmatic connection that bound our hearts. Instead of feeling blessed that I had found my soul mate, who was supposed to complete me and make me feel whole, I felt cursed because all mine did was torment my mind and leave me feeling ruined and hopeless.
Forced to pull myself together so that I wouldn’t be late, I swatted at the butterfly forcing it to move on and dried my cheeks with the back of my hands. I rushed back to my apartment and jumped in the shower. As usual, Tessa wasn’t there. She practically lived at her boyfriend’s, and where at times I missed having some company, I was glad to have the place to myself then to regain my composure and not have to answer any questions about my splotchy face. After I was dressed and ready to go, I shot Mase a quick text, partially out of the longing I felt for him after the numerous days apart, but more out of guilt for my earlier thoughts.
Me (4:47PM)—Headed out to work, miss you terribly. Hope you are getting everything taken care of.
Mason (4:50PM)—Miss you too Angel. All is done, can’t wait to come home tomorrow. Call me when you get home tonight.
When I got to the store, I clocked in and put my purse up. I checked with my boss to make sure there wasn’t anything that he needed me to do, but he said that all was good so I walked around doing a quick inspection that everything was where it should be. After cleaning up some sheet music that had been littered about, I took advantage of the lack of customers and sat down at one of the keyboards in the side room. Still distraught over the afternoon and unable to pull my mind from Ash, I allowed myself to sing for him for the first time in nearly a year. From the moment my fingers felt the keys under them, I was imprisoned to the lyrics of Sara Bareilles’ Gravity. The song so perfectly portrayed the power that he had over me—it was a force of nature, a law of physics that couldn’t be broken, despite how much I wanted to be free from it. I closed my eyes and poured all of my heart and soul into my private performance, allowing the instrument and my voice to be my therapy. As I finished the song, applause from the doorway startled me and my eyes flew open.
“Breathtaking, as always, Butterfly.”
ASH
Fate was the only possible explanation that led me to her that day. I was on my way to my mom’s apartment for our weekly Wednesday dinner, a date I had yet to miss since she had left my dad just a few months before, when I noticed a guitar shop tucked away in a shopping center just a few blocks from her house. It reminded me that I needed some new strings, so I pulled in the parking lot, fully intending to make a quick stop.
I walked into the store on a mission and quickly found the pack I needed and headed to the register to check out. It was only then that I noticed I was the only person in the room. I did a full three-sixty to make sure I hadn’t missed anyone possibly bending down or hidden behind an instrument when I saw an entrance to another room. About halfway en route, I stopped mid-stride as I heard the first few notes of the song that would unknowingly change my life. When I heard her voice follow, I nearly dropped to my knees, overwhelmed with emotions. I quickly but quietly made my way to the doorway; my brain needed visual confirmation that she really was there.
Thankfully, her back was to the door. I knew she’d stop if she saw me, and I wanted to savor every moment before she realized I was there. Her performance was devastatingly beautiful, impressively heartbreaking. I knew without a shadow a doubt she was singing for me; it was almost if she could sense my presence. Every word . . . every fucking lyric tore at my soul. Piece by piece it ripped me apart until I was left completely exposed.
When she concluded the piano solo, I began clapping and commended her.
“Breathtaking, as always, Butterfly.”
Her body tensed at the sound of my voice and at first, she didn’t turn around to look at me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly.
“I just stopped in to grab some strings and there wasn’t anyone out there, so I came to check for someone in here and I found you,” I replied. “What are you doing here? Are you going to turn around and look at me?”
“I work here and I’d rather not.” She could be so damn stubborn. Unfortunately, that was one of the things I loved most about her.
There were so many things I wanted to say to her. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to tell her and show her how much I loved her and how sorry I was. I decided to not waste any time.
“Was that about me?” I asked.
“What do you think, Ash?” she snapped.
“You still feel it, don’t you?” I knew I was pressing my luck, but I had to ask her.
She didn’t say anything so I took advantage of the silence and poured my heart out to her. There was nothing more hurtful that she could say that she hadn’t already said to me, so the way I figured it, I had nothing to lose and everything in the world to gain.
“Scarlett, please listen to me. I am a mess without you in my life. I think about you all day, every day. For the last ten months I have been a damaged, broken person just wandering through life without purpose or motivation. You . . . you give me reason and hope. You make me feel like I deserve to be loved. You weren’t the only one that lost a best friend the day Evie died, you know? I need you; you are the key to my sanity,” I confessed without reservation.
Finally, she turned around and I instantly fell deep into those big brown eyes. Her chestnut hair was thrown into a loose bun and she had on a pair of loose jeans paired with an old Beastie Boys t-shirt. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.
“See, that’s the thing, Ash. Instead of being the key to my sanity, you are reason I feel insane all of the time.” She kept her voice calm and her stare cool. “I can’t escape this hold that you have on me and I hate it. All I want is to be able to move on, but I just can’t . . .”
“Then don’t,” I offered. “Let’s try and make us work. I know I was stupid before and I didn’t treat you right. I’m so sorry, Scarlett . . . so fucking sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to tell you to live your life without me, when I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, that you were mine forever.”
As I began to walk toward her, I could see the tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks. “Don’t cry, Butterfly. Please, no more tears.”
I reached her in three quick strides and wrapped my arms around her shaking body, pulling her to my chest. Neither of us said anything. We stood in the middle of the
room full of instruments for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, simply holding one other. Feeling her lithe body up against mine . . . smelling her sweet citrus smell . . . was downright euphoric. For months I had dreamed about touching her again, and I was going to hold her as long as she would let me.
“Scarlett?” A guy’s voice interrupted our private nirvana. “Is everything alright?”
She jumped back out of my arms and nervously began straightening her clothes. “Yeah, Joe. Everything’s fine . . . just an old friend.”
“Okay, well you need to get back out to the main room. There’s a girl here needing some help,” he said. He looked me up and down disapprovingly before turning around and exiting the room.
Scarlett looked up at me and smiled weakly. “I’ve gotta go. Keep the strings . . . they’re on me.” Then she walked away.
Still in shock and disbelief, I stumbled through the main area of the store. Just before I opened the door that led outside, she called out, “Ash!”
I twisted around to see her across the room.
“I never stopped feeling it.” She smiled, a genuine smile this time, and my heart jumped in my chest. She went back to helping her customer and I left the store with more than just hope. I had fate on my side.
DREAMS
SIDEWAYS—CITIZEN COPE
THE ONLY TIME—NINE INCH NAILS
ONLY PLACE I CALL HOME—EVERY AVENUE
SCARLETT
After Ash left the shop, an unexpected peace settled over me. I wasn’t sure exactly what happened during our encounter, but at some point, I made the decision that I didn’t want to hate him anymore. Hearing the hurt in his voice softened my outer shell, but it was when his body crashed into mine, that all of the good memories came rushing back. As he held me against his chest, I couldn’t help but think back to all of the nights I spent curled up next to his body, the way he smelled, the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck when he slept, the feel of his hand wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled in mine . . . all of it. I missed the nights we spent in his room—talking about everything and nothing, laughing at our favorite television shows, teaching each other how to play new songs. I had been completely consumed by the pain and feeling of abandonment, that I had blocked out all of the reasons that made me fall in love with him in the first place. The days surrounding Evie’s death, I lost not just one, but two best friends.
For the rest of my shift, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I tried . . . Lord knows I tried, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Ash. Right before I clocked out for the night, Joe came up to me and said, “Make sure to tell Rat that I got the new amp he ordered. I’ll have it delivered to Empty’s tomorrow.”
That was when the guilt began to creep in. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I knew Mason would not be happy that Ash had been there and that he would be downright pissed that I allowed him to hold me for a good while. But I had to tell him the truth. I didn’t want to hide anything from him; I had already decided that if we couldn’t survive on the truth, than the relationship wasn’t meant to be.
I loved Mason, and I wanted to be with him. From the day I had met him, he had been there for me no matter what, and I really wasn’t sure why. He had pretty much dropped his social life except for Jobu’s Rum, and dedicated himself to me, even though I never asked him to. And even after I left him the awful way that I did, he took me back without reservation the minute I showed up in his bar. No matter what connection my heart felt with Ash, I knew that Mason was the better guy for me. I owed it to him to give our relationship everything I could, and I hoped that by forgiving Ash, I could finally move on.
When I returned to my empty apartment, I took a quick shower and changed into my pajamas. Crawling into bed, I grabbed my phone, getting ready for a long conversation. I hit the top name in my favorites list and waited for him to answer. Unfortunately, after just three rings his voicemail picked up. I left a quick message for him to call me back, and then grabbed my e-reader to pass the time.
Two hours later I finished the book I started earlier that day, and I was overjoyed for the three main characters that all ended up with their happily-ever-after’s. Sure, relationships like that didn’t exist in the real world, at least not in my world, but that was the great thing about fictional books—they were meant to be an escape from reality. The damn thing also left me all hot and bothered, and accompanied by the fact my phone still hadn’t rang, I was frustrated and annoyed.
Not wanting to call and leave another message, I decided to text Mason instead. I hoped that maybe he had just forgotten to turn his ringer on or something and would see the text. I laid my head down and not-so-patiently waited to hear from him. Lingering thoughts of the book characters, Trey and Ethan, morphed into Ash and Mason in my head, and I wished that real life could be as easy as it was in the books. I couldn’t wait for Mason to get back the next day; things were always better when I was with him.
I hurried up the stairs to Mason’s apartment, anxious and excited to see him. He opened the door before I even had a chance to knock and picked me up into his arms
“Get your little ass in here, Angel. I’ve been so excited to see you all day,” he said as he carried me through the doorway.
Instead of responding with words I claimed his mouth with mine, open and demanding. I wasn’t wasting any time with pleasantries and “how-do-you-dos;” I needed him and had no problems showing him just that. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to either. As soon as he closed the door behind us, he slammed my back up against the adjacent wall and returned the desperate kisses in kind. After several minutes of pawing at each other and tasting every inch of exposed skin above the waist, he pulled back slightly and I growled in frustration.
“Hold on. We need to slow down . . . otherwise we will be finished before I give you your surprise,” he said teasingly.
“Surprise?” The word tweaked my interest. “What kind of surprise?” I asked.
He slid me down the front of him until my feet reached the ground. I couldn’t help but wiggle a bit as my crotch rubbed against his hard cock on my way down.
“You little tease . . .” he joked and swatted my ass as I walked past him further into the apartment.
“Oh, I’m not teasing,” I replied playfully. “Now where’s my surprise?” I looked around the living area and dining room but didn’t see anything out of the norm.
He walked up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. Leaning down to kiss under my ear, he whispered, “There are a few things we need to discuss before you can get it.”
“Oh-kay . . .” He continued to kiss and bite at my earlobe and neck, which made it hard to concentrate on anything he was saying.
“Do you trust me, Angel?”
“Of course I do,” I replied without hesitation. “Especially if you keep doing that with your mouth . . .”
He laughed and took a step back. Grabbing my waist, he spun me around so that we were face to face. He bent down and lightly brushed his lips across mine. “Are you okay with being blindfolded? It’s necessary for your surprise.”
Drowning in desire, I nodded and said, “Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.”
The huge smile across his face told me that I said the right words, and I had no doubt that he would take good care of me. His next kiss was much more brash, and I felt his eagerness and enthusiasm for whatever he had planned. He led me to the kitchen where he had a line of six shot glasses already filled with a clear liquid. He grabbed one and handed it to me, then grabbed one for himself. He looked directly into my eyes with a hunger that demanded my attention.
“Angel, this is all about you and everything that makes you happy. All I ever want is for you to be completely satisfied, so tonight I’m going to try and give you just that—total euphoria. All you need to do is relax and enjoy, okay?”
All I could do was nod yet again, as my mind raced through hundreds of possibilities that Mason could have planned. I had no idea what t
o expect, but I trusted him and was open to trying new things.
“The shots aren’t to get you drunk, but it will help take the edge off in the beginning. Being blindfolded can be a bit nerve-wracking at first, especially if you aren’t used to it.
I raised the small glass in the air in a silent toast and threw the chilled liquid down the back of my throat. Mason followed suit and we then repeated the motion twice more, polishing off the drinks. The warmth of the liquor amplified my already elevated body temperature, as the anticipation of what was to come had me more turned on than I could ever remember being.
He grabbed my hand and led me into his bedroom. Immediately I noticed the three strips of black fabric lying across the bed. Confused, I asked, “Why three?”
Once we reached the side of the bed, he stopped and faced me. The yearning in his gaze made me feel so wanted and sexy.
“One for your eyes and one for each of your wrists.”
The nerves in my stomach began to come to life when I realized that he intended to blindfold me AND tie me to the bed. I would be completely vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to me. Internally I was battling my brain cycling through all of the possible consequences by allowing him to do that and my hormones screaming just how fucking hot the entire situation was. Either Mason heard the scuffle or my apprehension was evident on my face, because he leaned down into me and fired the winning shot with a kiss so sensual it nearly dropped me to my knees.
“Do I get a safe word?” I asked.
Laughing, he shook his head. “You won’t need a safe word, Angel. I’m not gonna torture you. If you want me to stop, just say so and I will. Now strip for me and climb onto the bed.”
A little relieved that he wasn’t planning anything too crazy, I quickly did as he asked. Minutes later I was lying in the middle of the bed, stark naked, and waiting for him to restrain me. My exposed body shivered with excitement as he straddled me on the bed, still fully clothed.