No Tomorrow: An Angsty Love Story

One minute I’m eating a hamburger and fries and the next I’m walking down a long corridor toward Blue’s hotel room with my hand tightly clasped in his. The zig-zag pattern of the carpet makes me dizzier and dizzier with each step.

Or maybe it’s from walking up four flights of stairs because Blue doesn’t do elevators.

But most likely it’s because I’m having an anxiety attack. Because I haven’t told him about Lyric yet. Not before he asked me to come up to his room to talk, and not as we hoofed up the stairs.

And certainly not now, standing in front of the door as he swipes the card reader. It doesn’t exactly feel like the right time. He’s happy. I’m happy. Feelings of awkwardness, heartache, and guilt have been shoved into the closets of our minds, waiting to jump out again during a fight someday in the future like emotional boogie-men.

Once we’re on the other side of the door, he releases my hand and cups my cheek with his warm palm. His smoky eyes linger on mine, then lower to my lips. His thumb moves across my cheek to the target of his gaze.

My breath catches when he pushes his thumb past my lips, forcing my jaw open. His mouth comes down on mine, kissing me deeply, filling my mouth with his tongue with his thumb still pressing my bottom teeth. Weakening, I lean back against the door and his hard body leans perfectly into mine. Familiar calloused fingers dig into the flesh of my waist under the material of my shirt.

I missed this so much. All of this that’s him. The rough demands of his touch, his passion, his torment and his words. His scent—oh how much I missed his woodsy, smoky, mint-tinged scent. I love how his touch instantly jump-starts my body back to life. My heart is racing. I’m practically panting with want for him. I want him to throw me on the bed and brand every inch of me. I want to touch him, explore all his new tattoos and his thicker body.

As he slowly drags his thumb from my bottom lip to my chin, his eyes burn with lust watching the wet path of his finger.

“Been waiting all fucking night for that,” he says hoarsely.

My legs are wobbly with desire when he tugs me farther into the large, posh room, and I’m still intoxicated from his kiss when I teasingly ask, “Was it worth the wait?”

I didn’t know my comment was the equivalent of giving a hungry wild animal even the tiniest taste of meat.

With mind-spinning speed, he captures me in his arms and throws me down on the king-sized bed. He lands hard on top of me, his size and weight nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs.

We kiss like two people who have been doing nothing but thinking about kissing each other for the past five years—rough, wild, desperate and wet. We’re a tangle of lips and tongue and hands yanking off clothes.

In the midst of it all I manage to gather my wits and separate my lips from his long enough to attempt to tell him what I came here for.

“Blue, we should talk….”

He hovers above me with his messy hair hanging down into my face and stares at me with a veil of denial already in his eyes.

“Don’t say it, whatever it is, Piper. I don’t want to hear it if you have a boyfriend or a husband—”

I reach up to stroke his stubbled cheek. “No. Not at all. It’s not that—”

His lips touch mine again, soft now, almost pleading. “Good. Me either. We’ll talk later….”

“But—”

His warm lips slip across my throat, and his teeth nip a trail, leaving his mark. “Shh….”

I shouldn’t give in to his shushing me, no matter how much we want each other. I should sit up and force him to listen to me so I can tell him about our daughter before we go any further physically or emotionally. And if the realization that he has a child doesn’t wreck him and cause him to have a meltdown, then we can ravish each other all night long, and hopefully move forward.

I open my mouth to protest, but he moves his lips back up to mine, kisses me in that desperate way that weakens me.

“I can’t talk, Piper. Or think,” he says softly, then brushes his lips across mine again. “Just let me get lost in you… please.”

I’ve never been able to resist or deny him. My body craves his. My heart beats in perfect tune with his. My soul meshed with his the day we met. I need and want to get lost in him, too. More than anything.

So I give in, and I shush.

For now.

My silence doesn’t last long. Faint sighs and throaty moans soon drift from my lips in response to his hands and mouth reclaiming every inch of my body. Each time I reach for him, he pins my hands back down on the bed and immobilizes me with deeper kisses, imprisoning me between his strong thighs. I ache to touch him, dig my nails into him, to feel that he’s real and not another one of my many dreams.

“Don’t move,” he says gruffly, climbing off the bed. I’m all eyes and quivers watching him unbuckle his leather belt and kicking off his black combat boots to step out of his jeans.

“Do these expire?” he asks, holding up a crumpled foil condom he just pulled from his wallet. The same wallet he had when we first met.

“I’m not sure. How long has it been in there?”

“Years. Since us.”

I lean up on my elbows. “You haven’t used it?”

“For what?”

“Um, for safe sex?”

He grabs my foot, lifts it up to his bare chest, and removes the strappy heel. Heat floods between my thighs when he bends down to plant an open kiss at the arch of my foot.

“I haven’t touched anyone,” he says, repeating the same erotic actions with my other foot. “Don’t you get it, Piper? You’re it.” Placing the condom between his teeth, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my jeans and yanks them over my ankles.

I blink at him, disbelieving. It’s been easy for me to not be with another man. I’ve dated very little over the past few years and none of those dates ever led to sex. Sure, a few guys tried, but I always sabotaged the moment. Besides, I work long hours and spend all my free time with my daughter or walking Acorn. I don’t have time to start a serious relationship. As unconventional as it is, Josh and I have a friend-lationship that works for us on a non-physical level.

But how could Blue possibly be celibate for so long? It’s unthinkable. He’s a guy. A very good-looking and extremely sensual one. And he’s a musician. Women love musicians, especially sexy, dark, brooding ones like him. We’re inexplicably drawn to them, like chocolate or coffee or diamonds. We want to fix them. We want to be the one. The one to change them, the one to win their hearts and stop their wandering ways. The one who makes them forget all other women. We want to be the it, as he said.

I have no idea how four-foot-eleven, one-hundred-pound, boring me could possibly be anyone’s it.

“You’re serious?” I ask.

Standing at the foot of the bed, he tears open the foil and rolls the latex over his shaft with the city lights from the window behind him illuminating his shape in the dark room. Wild and wavy hair tumbles over his shoulders and the feather catches the light, glinting with iridescence. Such a bittersweet symbol of his beloved bird, tethered to him, without the freedom to soar.

He leans over my body, between my spread thighs, and grabs my throat, pulling me up to him.

“Shhh….” He kisses me, one hand still closed around my throat, while the other reaches between my legs to stroke my wet lips. He hums with desire when I spread my thighs wider, inviting him in.

Begging him, is more accurate.

His name is all over my lips when two skull-ringed fingers thrust inside me and begin expertly stroking, zeroing in on all the right places, just like he used to. The span of his hand clenched over my throat tightens slightly, capturing the vibration of my moans against his palm.

“I missed you so fucking much, Ladybug. Every day. Every night.”

I’m close to delirious with want—wanting to give him everything, wanting him to take everything. Wanting him to never leave again. Wanting to stay in this moment forever. Wanting to forget, wanting to hope.

I drop my head against the bed when he releases his hold on my neck so he can grab my legs and swiftly flip me over. I’m dragged to the edge of the bed, lifted up onto my knees, and spread wide before him. He inches his hand lightly up my back, skimming over the goosebumps, and grabs my hair, twisting it around his hand and tugging my head up and backward to meet his mouth. His hips slam hard into my ass, driving his cock balls-deep into me. He growls against my mouth like a wild animal when I arch my back, angling myself to take him deeper. My walls stretch around his thick cock, my fingers clench the bedspread. He sucks my tongue into his mouth, moving his free hand across my belly, up to cup my breasts, squeezing my nipples into the channel of his fingers. The heat coming off his body is like a fire enveloping us and our bodies, slippery with sweat, slap against each other. I’m spinning into euphoria, falling fast down the rabbit hole, going back to that exquisite place where there’s no time, no place. There’s just us.

I break away from his lips, gasping for breath and whimpering as orgasms quake through my body. His ab muscles tense deliciously against the small of my back, his breath quickens, and I feel his body pulse inside me.

Leaning his forehead against the back of my head, he rests there, catching his breath before slowly pulling out and rolling onto his back next to me. I crawl into his outstretched arm and rest my head against his chest. I trace small circles over his stomach with my fingertips and watch his muscles dance beneath my touch.

His voice, soft and deep, is melodic in the dark quietness of the room. “I know I show it in messed-up ways, but I really do love you,” he says.

“I know, Blue. I never doubted that.”

His heart beats wildly under my head. He moves his hand lazily up and down my arm. I can feel him thinking.

“Do you love me, Piper?”

I sit up to face him, even though we can barely see each other in the dark. “I love you more than words can say. I never stopped, not for a minute.”

He gently squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” He rises from the bed, disappears into the bathroom for several minutes, then comes out with a white towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Next he goes out on the balcony and lights up a cigarette, and I watch him smoking and looking out over the city.

I wonder what he’s thinking about.

I wonder what I’m doing here.

I wonder why I’m so afraid to tell him why I came here.

I wonder where we go from here, and from there, when I tell him.

I have to tell him.

While he’s smoking I find my way to the bathroom and wash my face and fix my major bed-head. I sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub and stare down at my shiny pink-tipped toenails, trying to regroup my brain. I didn’t think we’d go from zero to sixty tonight. I should have slammed on the brakes before things careened straight to his bed.

When I come out of the bathroom, he’s lying on the bed, propped up on a pile of stark white pillows. It’s odd seeing him in a room surrounded by lamps and furniture and television remotes.

“You have a glass shower and a huge jet tub,” I say.

“Weird, huh?”

I crawl onto the bed next to him and he pulls me up against him, wrapping his tattooed arm around me as if we’ve never been apart.

“You deserve to have nice things.”

“To me it’s just stuff that water comes out of.”

I giggle and turn to kiss him. “You’re adorable.”

“I want to try again.”

The smile slowly fades from my lips. Not because I’m not happy, but because I’m confused and unsure.

“What do you mean?”

“Us. We could try again, right?”

“Yes. We could.” I swallow hard over the lump of cautious excitement in my throat. “I mean, I want to. Really. Things are a lot different now though…”

I place the first breadcrumb down and hope he follows it.

“I know. But we could do it. I could stay with you when we’re off tour. And we could still see each other when I’m touring. We could fly to each other.”

I went from dating a guy who lived in a shed to a guy who now tours and flies around the world. It’s hard to grasp he’s the same guy. I wonder if I would fit into his new, exciting life, or if I’d feel totally out of my element with him.

But when I move the layers of his new lifestyle to the side, Blue is the same. He’s still quiet, honest, and passionate. He still makes me feel like I’m the only woman on the planet that exists in his eyes. He walked away from a room full of paying fans to be alone with me—just like he walked away from the listeners in the park to come sit with me years ago.

In his own way, he’s incredibly romantic.

He’s still my Blue.

Having money, a band, fans, and a busy schedule hasn’t changed who he is or the things I love about him. I don’t see any sign of a man who has turned into a player or who hops from woman to woman. It might take a while, but I could accept his career and everything that comes with it as long as it doesn’t change him.

“That’s true,” I finally say. “We could find ways to make it work. Lots of people do it.” My mind tries to wrangle how I’d work that out between my job, a four-year-old, and two pets. Blue isn’t the only one who’s living a different life now. My life is completely different, too, and he knows absolutely nothing about any of it. Just as I would need to accept his new life, he would also have to be willing to accept mine.

And most of all, he would have to accept our daughter. Unconditionally.

“My drummer’s got a long-term chick. They work it out.”

We reach for each other’s hands at the same time and entwine our fingers together. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Piper. I was blown away when I saw you tonight. It’s like fate brought you back to me. I even dreamt about you a few nights ago. And now you’re here and it’s like we were never apart. I think I can do it right this time. I’m flat out with the band and writing new songs and all that other shit, but I’ll make time. I can be better now.”

“There was nothing wrong with you before,” I interject.

“No, there was and I know it. I was tumbleweeding all over the fuckin’ place. I had all kinds of shit in my head and I could never get the words or the notes right and everything else just spiraled and it was just too much and that’s why I got headaches and felt sick. But it would be better now and we could be together. I’m leaving tomorrow night for the next show, but you could come with me.” The frantic speed of his words and his overly excited tone is sweet yet equally alarming. “I’ll make sure we have a room with a big tub and lots of soap and towels and we’ll have a big bed like this one. And you can come to the show every night and watch me like you used to in the pub, remember? I used to love that, looking out at the crowd and seeing your big beautiful eyes watching me. We could have cheeseburgers every night and we can fall asleep together in a real bed, just like you wanted.” His arm tightens around me, as if he’s pulling me into this scenario with him. “We could be together again, me, you, and Acorn.”

When he finally pauses to take a breath, I jump in.

“I wish I could do all that but I have to work, Blue. I can’t just take time off without any notice. I want to. More than anything. But I’d have to put in vacation requests with HR. I have over a month of vacation time but I can’t just take off whenever. We can still make plans, though. You’ll have to let me know your schedule and we’ll see what we can make work and talk about everything else.”

“Oh. I forgot about all that.” His tongue piercing clicks his teeth. “It’s okay. As soon as we can, we’ll get together. And I can call you. Every day. I have a phone now.”

I nod enthusiastically, trying to figure out how I can bring up Lyric in this conversation without ruining the moment. “Definitely. We’ll take it day by day. No pressure.”

Squinting, he rubs his fingertips across his forehead. “My head is killing me. I’m so tired. I can’t remember when I slept.”

“You need to get some rest. It’s late.”

He rolls onto his side and curls his body around mine. “Sleep with me and we’ll get you home in the morning. I won’t be able to sleep if you leave.”

Shit. I should have gone home hours ago, or at least called Josh, who must be worried out of his mind right now. I feel like the worst mother in the world. I’ve never let Lyric go to bed without telling her I love her. Ever.

“I need to call my roommate.”

He nods, already drifting off to sleep, too tired to ask questions. “Okay, then come sleep with me,” he mumbles into his pillow.

I use the phone on the desk across the room rather than the one closer to the bed, and Josh answers on the second ring.

“Jesus Christ, Piper, where the hell are you? It’s two a.m.”

I cringe from the receiver. “Calm down, please? I’m with Blue.”

He scoffs down the line. “What a surprise. I saw this coming a mile away.”

“Josh, please,” I whisper loudly. “Is Lyric okay? Is she awake?”

“She’s fine, and no, she’s not awake. I put her to bed hours ago. I’ve been sitting here watching Project Runway for hours worrying about you.”

“I didn’t get to say goodnight to her. Was she upset?”

“No, she just kept asking when you were coming home and if she could have more ice cream.”

“Shit. I feel terrible.”

“When are you coming home?”

“Tomorrow.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Nope. Not at all.

“So I guess he took the news well?” he prods.

“I didn’t tell him yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“Yes. In the morning. This is really hard, Josh. He’s so happy to see me. You don’t know him, not much makes him happy and excited like this. I just wanted us to enjoy some time together.”

“I have a bad feeling about this. Don’t make me regret getting you those tickets, Piper.”

“Ugh. Really? Why are you being like this? I’m an adult.”

“Yeah and the first night you go out to see your ex you don’t come home and completely blow off your kid. This guy just fucks you all up.”

“He doesn’t fuck me up. And I didn’t blow off Lyric. How dare you say that to me? This is the first time I’ve gone out at night in months! I just lost track of the time.”

“I’m not going to argue with you—I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. “And don’t worry about Lyric, I’ll make her breakfast and keep her busy until you get home.”

“I do appreciate you taking care of her for me. I’m sorry I made you worry. I just need a little more time with him.”

“Just be careful.” He ends the call and I slowly put the phone down, feeling my happy bubble slowly deflating.

Sighing, I crawl under the covers with Blue and cuddle up against his warm body. He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Don’t go,” he says sleepily.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” I whisper, rubbing my hand back and forth across his warm back.

Tomorrow morning I’ll tell him about Lyric. After we’ve both gotten some sleep and have absorbed our decision to be together again. To try again. I don’t let my mind wander too far into the future. I won’t let myself worry about being in a relationship with a rock star. Blue is the same person he used to be. He’s humble, unfazed by his new life. I can see it so clearly—our future—as I envisioned and hoped for. We can be a family. We can be happy. We can put the past behind us, leave his demons in the dust.

We are the myth, of love and lore

Of visions and gem-painted bugs, forever and evermore

We are faith and hope and dreams come true

We are one and two and there is no one but you.

No one but you….

The lyrics of Ladybug drift through my exhausted mind. Blue is a poet, a dreamer. Loyal to love and forgiving of its madness. We’ll be fine, the two of us, and our whimsical little girl.

Mend my shredded wings, lend me your heart

Fly with me, there’s nothing to tear us apart….