FIVE
Saturday. Noon. Pulling into the venue.
Obsession. Noun. "The state of being obsessed with someone or something."
Obsess. Verb. "Preoccupy or fill the mind of (someone) continually, intrusively, and to a troubling extent." Synonyms: preoccupy, possess, haunt, consume, plague, torment, hound, bedevil, beset, control, rule, grip...the list is endless.
Addiction. Noun. "The fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity."
Addict. Transitive Verb. "To devote or surrender (oneself) to something habitually or obsessively."
I think I have a problem.
No, I didn't look up these definitions last night after the show like I said I would. The text I got threw me for a loop and I wasn't right for the rest of the night. Sure, I purposely left my number in her phone, but I didn't expect to hear from her so fast--or so little, for that matter. I tossed and turned over it all night. Not only over the text, but over the fact that I gave her my number in the first
place--or even that I asked for hers. It was one hundred percent completely out of character for me and what scares me the most is that my wife never once crossed my mind during the entire exchange. I'm happily married and I love my family--but I turned around and gave my number to a fan.
No, I looked the definitions up just now as we pulled into the venue, after a night of restless sleep. Something is definitely wrong with me and I'm having an extremely hard time with succumbing to temptation. I'm afraid it may only get worse with time.
But how bad can it be if I never see her again?
She hasn't posted that she's attending any more shows and that comforts me a little. If I don't see her again, it might not be so difficult for me. She hadn't seemed that interested in talking to me last night and after the texts she sent me, she likely deleted my number out of her phone herself. She may have already taken care of the situation for me.
And so what if I like to cruise a little social media every now and then? It's not like I'm actually talking to anyone. Because I'm not. There's nothing wrong with checking in and seeing what everyone is up to.
I smile as I am satisfied with the silent pep talk I've just given myself. I don't have an unhealthy obsession or addiction with anything or anyone. That would be absurd.
My relief is short-lived when I look out the window and spy her friends in line at the venue. My fingers immediately fly to the app wall.
_________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:37pm. Walking.
I have yet to see HER. I guess I assume since I see her friends that she would be here, too. But I guess just because they were traveling didn't mean she would be, as well.
She hadn't posted on any of her social media when I checked earlier, either. What happened last night? Did I really freak her out that much? I've racked my brain all night and all day wondering at what part was the moment that officially did it for her? Was it the picture with the phone? Was that too much for her?
Hell, it was too much for me. I never should have done it.
I find myself purposely seeking out her friends so I can walk near them and maybe overhear what they're saying. I hope that her name comes up but it never does.
She is definitely not here. I truly think I'm making this entire thing to be much bigger than it actually is.
_______________________________________________
Saturday. 8:10pm. Opening act onstage.
Today has been a busy one so I've managed to stay off my phone. It makes me feel good that I didn't look at it all day. Maybe it's helping me to not be addicted or obsessed.
But then moments like this happen when you're alone and you're bored and--well, what do you do? You take out your phone and you pull up the app wall.
I'm getting a little tired of nearly ending up in the hospital each time I open the app lately. Really, I am. My heart nearly explodes out of my chest as I see HER post from three minutes ago. "Got here late but I'm already on an Mmmhops run! See you at the front!"
I'm sweating bullets. I seem to do that a lot lately. But shit, she's here! I was sold on the fact that yesterday was the only show she would be at! And she said, "See you at the front!" What did that mean? Was she talking to the app in general? Was she targeting me? She has to be targeting me. She just has to be. "See you at the front?" Well of course she'll see her friends at the front, I'm sure they already know she's here. Who else could she mean?
SHIT! We're sold out of Mmmhops! We sold out twenty minutes ago! I hate for her to be disappointed. I could text her, but I suddenly have a better plan, more devious than last night's, and I don't even feel close to guilty about it.
_________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:15pm. Thieving.
Addiction drives you to do strange things. Wait, is that a confession? Am I an addict? I think I might be. I know I keep going back and forth with it but I just can't decide. It's HER. It's all her. That's where I'll lay my blame.
For now, though, I'm going through bags backstage, collecting bus keys. It's easier than I thought it would be. Everyone is so trusting back here, it's not even funny. I find them on tables, in bags, in clothes pockets...
I'm pretty sure I have everyone's bus keys and I shove the metal collection in my pockets before putting a jacket on and attempting to sneak out into the venue.
__________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:20pm. At the bar.
I'm still wondering if maybe she targeted me because it's been thirteen minutes since she posted on the app and she's still standing at the bar. My heart pounds as I successfully make my way through the back of the venue, unnoticed. She's dressed simply in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt, her untamed sex hair as her only accessory. She's alone and my eyes dart around to see if I've been noticed. So far so good. I thank god the lighting is dimmer than normal at the bar.
The opener is onstage and the crowd seems to be really into him and I barely feel the need to worry about being noticed right this second. This relaxes me a little.
I walk up beside her and rest my arms on the bar as the bartender slides a beer to her. "You don't want to drink that," I say to her.
It's obvious that I've startled her, because she looks at me with the same surprised eyes she wore last night. I'm not understanding
this and I need to address it once and for all, before it officially drives me to the nuthouse. "Why are you acting like that?" I ask her,
unable to stop myself.
Her eyes darken quickly. "Acting like what?"
I find myself smirking at her. "Come on. For the second night in a row you've targeted me on the app wall and for the second night in a row, here I am. Why do you keep acting so surprised?"
She looks back at me, her expression stone cold. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You do know what I'm talking about because you're not fawning over me and trying to engage me in mindless chatter right now. It's been thirteen minutes and you're still standing at the bar."
She shakes her head. "It's been busy and the bartender's slow."
I narrow my eyes at her. "I don't think so."
She looks back at me in silence. It's apparent that she has no comeback and I smile at my victory. Except is that a victory? To render her speechless? Maybe things aren't going as they played out in my head...
"Why would I not want to drink this?" she asks, interrupting my thoughts and changing the subject.
I quickly try to recover and snap back into reality. "Uh, because it's not Mmmhops."
A smirk flashes across her lips. "Well then I guess I'm shit out of luck, seeing as it's sold out."
"What if I told you I could hook you up?"
"I guess I should be paying you, then, instead of him." She motions to the bartender.
I smile at her. "I wouldn't charge you anything."
"Who am I to turn down free beer?"
I glance around quickly and my eyes fall on a side door close to the bar. I nod toward it. "Go out that side door right there and give me a few seconds' head start."
She shakes her head. "If I walk out of the venue I can't get back in."
I look back at her, feeling the expression of skepticism on my face. "I can get you back in," I say matter-of-factly.
She looks back at me with a blank expression. "Okay, then."
____________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:25pm. Outside of the bus.
I can't believe how easily this is working. I'm ecstatic but at the same time I'm nervous as hell and calming down doesn't seem to be an option. I have a moment of clarity--what the fuck am I doing? Inviting a fan onto the bus? In secret? Is this me? Is this what I do?
But then, as I stand by the bus door, I see her walk up and I can't decide if my nerves have disappeared or if they've heightened. She's so incredibly sexy and there's really no one feature on her body that I can single out. I don't know what it is. She isn't perfect. She isn't gorgeous. She's pretty but my wife is prettier. She...has an aura about her. Is that a cheesy word? Aura? I don't care, that's what I'm going with. When I say she must have sex running through her veins, that's about the only way I can describe what she does to me.
She stops in front of me and looks at me expectantly. Without a word, I unlock the bus door and open it up for her. She doesn't move. "Um, after you," I urge her.
And then she speaks. "Seriously? What is this?"
Suddenly I'm confused. "What is what?"
"This." She points to the bus. "You're inviting me into your bus?"
"Um, well, that's where the beer is..."
"I just assumed you'd bring it out here."
I pause and I try to think fast. She has a point. A very valid one. That would be the logical thing to do. However with the position I find myself in now, logical pretty much flew out the window a long time ago. A response finally pops into my head. "If you're seen drinking it out here, there might be some issues...I mean it's not like we have enough to go around in there."
She glances back at the venue and then back at me. "Pretty sure nobody's gonna come out here anytime soon..."
Shit. There she goes again. Being logical. I mean, damn, she met me out here. What the hell is she expecting? The words fall out
of my mouth and I immediately regret sounding like such an idiot. "Well, you never know..."
She narrows her eyes at me and I brace myself for the words to follow. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
This question should have shocked me. Really, it should have scared the shit out of me. But instead, I don't skip a beat. "What if I
am?"
She also doesn't skip a beat. "This never was about beer, was it?"
"It was."
She studies my face for another moment and then, without a word, she boards the bus.
_______________________________________________
Saturday. 8:27pm. On the bus.
I double check to make sure I've locked the door behind me before following her into the common area of the bus. It's dark and I turn on a single light, enough to see what's going on around me. The light is dim but I don't dare turn on any more so as to not raise any suspicion from outside.
I expect to watch her look around the bus with curiosity but instead she acts as if she's unimpressed. Is she nervous? Is this a defense mechanism?
I reach into the refrigerator and retrieve two beers, popping off the caps with a bottle opener I find nearby. Handing her one, I attempt to make small talk, as my nerves have returned in full force. "So, what do you think?" I ask her.
She smiles. "I haven't even taken a drink yet."
"No, I mean about the bus."
She looks incredulous and my heart begins to pound. "The bus?"
"Yeah."
She smirks at me and finally takes a swig of the beer. "This isn't my first bus."
The statement floors me a little. I don't know how to take that. What I do know, however, is that the nerves I was just feeling
are now replaced with that old familiar thrill I love so much. "So...how many buses have you been on?" I ask, my curiosity killing me.
"I'm not a groupie or anything, if that's what you're thinking."
This is the first time I'm noticing how seductive her voice sounds. She doesn't sound any different than I've heard in the past--which
wasn't enough to base anything on, really. I can tell she isn't trying. It's completely natural. I think it might be turning me on...
"I wasn't suggesting you were," I respond to her.
"But you were thinking it."
She had me there. Of course I was thinking it. Who wouldn't be after a statement like that? "Enlighten me," I challenge her.
"We have friends who own tour buses. RV's, if you will. We travel with them sometimes on vacation."
"Who's 'we?' "
"My boyfriend and I."
"Tell me about him."
She swigs her beer again, this time longer than before, never taking her eyes off of me. "This is really good," she says.
"Don't dodge the question."
"Is it really necessary?"
"Just making conversation."
"How long have you been watching me?"
"What?" I'm dumbfounded. Completely caught off guard. I never, in a million years, expected this conversation to go in this direction. Well, maybe I did a little, but I never thought she'd be the one to initiate it.
At this moment I realize that we're still standing, but before I can invite her to sit, she takes it upon herself as if reading my mind. I choose to sit beside her, keeping a safe distance.
"Don't act so surprised," she responds. Then she chuckles. "That sounds familiar, doesn't it? Anyway, I know what's going on. I'm not an idiot, you know. I noticed how you played the song I asked for. You answered when I asked how a show went. And the roses? That was a nice touch. Not to mention I posted how I was at the bar and now here we are. You catch on fast. I'm impressed."
My mouth feels numb. My tongue has lost the will to live. Speaking is becoming difficult. "Uh, when--"
"Oh, if it makes you feel any better I didn't put two and two together till last night. When I realized that you didn't delete your number. Especially after I discovered that you deleted the number to my boyfriend's hotel room instead."
"I didn't know--"
"I know you didn't. But it still amused me."
"You didn't text back."
"What did you expect me to say?"
I don't know the answer to that question. I try to change the subject once more. Things aren't going as planned--I'm losing control here. She is completely controlling me and this entire conversation right now. I can't allow it. I attempt to change the subject. "Your
boyfriend's hotel room?"
She smiles and swigs her beer again. "He's a surgeon. Sometimes he travels for work."
"He was there yesterday."
"And now he's not."
"What do you do for work?"
"What did you think of my beach picture?"
________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:38pm. Temptation prevailing.
She has me. She has me so tightly wound around her finger that there's no getting out of it. She knows that I know exactly which picture she's referring to. I'm slowly losing my mind as I realize that she knows. She knows my secret. She knows that I watch. She knows that I wait. She knows that I depend on her.
I realize then that she shares the same secret with me and I can no longer respond to her verbally. My body won't allow it. I've lost all the control that I could possibly possess and I can't stop myself because the thrill caused by the adrenaline rush is too powerful for me to defeat.
Setting my beer down on the adjacent table, I take hers out of her hand and I kiss her. There is no hesitation on either of our
accounts and I feel the want instantly taking over and it becomes impossible to keep my hands off of her.
I let her guide me as she grips my shirt and lays back, pulling me on top of her. At that moment I am so desperate to be in that position that the only thing my mind has room for is my hands on her body and within seconds there isn't an inch of her I haven't explored.
As I kiss her, the thrill is insatiable. I feel like a fourteen-year-old boy again, feeling up a girl for the first time. I want nothing more right now than to strip her down and fuck the hell out of her but there's just something about feeling her body through her clothes mixed with the knowledge that neither one of us are supposed to be there that makes me want to savor the moment a little longer.
She moans in my mouth as I kiss her and my hand runs the length of her leg bent beside me. Her jeans provide a substantial barrier, but I don't care. I'm touching her and that's all that matters.
Suddenly needing more of her, I lift her shirt and lower myself so that I can taste her stomach. She gasps and I feel her stomach suck in and I can't help but smile at myself because she's obviously ticklish. As my mouth explores further up her body, and my hand creeps closer to her bra, she groans in pleasure and a loud banging on the bus door interrupts any intimate thoughts either of us were having.
_________________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:43pm. Interrupted.
I stop what I'm doing and look up toward the front of the bus as the banging continues and I hear Ike's voice loudly saying, "Tay, are you in there?"
The moment is sadly over as she begins to scramble out from underneath me and straighten her clothes out. She fixes her hair with
her hand and snatches her beer up off of the table.
Standing, I fix my clothes as well and I clear my throat as I head for the bus door. Stepping down the couple of steps to the door, I unlock it and open it up to a visibly annoyed older brother. "Didn't mean to be so loud, but I can't find my keys," he says to me.
I pray that my guilty face doesn't give me away. "Um, I haven't seen them. Did you need something?"
"I was looking for you."
"Well, you found me."
Ike narrows his eyes at me in suspicion. Fuck. I just know he's found me out. I just know it. "Is everything okay?"
I begin to fidget. I fidget when I get nervous. I can't help it and I wish I could control it. "Uh, actually..." I fight for an answer. "I'm kinda Skyping with Natalie right now. We're kinda going through something..."
Ike's expression immediately changes and he nods, knowingly. "Oh, okay. Okay, no problem. Uh, if you see my keys will you let me
know?"
"Yeah, no problem. I won't be here much longer. I know they're about to wrap it up in there."
He seems satisfied with my lie as he leaves the bus and I would normally seem disgusted with myself, except that it's completely dominated by the proudness of myself that I feel for pulling off the lie so well. When did I become this way? When did I become a liar and a cheater?
I hate that word, cheater. It's so harsh. I decide I won't use it again.
Nerves begin to become present as I walk back to the common area of the bus where SHE is still sitting. I stand there and look
down at her and, to my surprise, she smiles up at me and says. "So that was cutting it pretty close, huh?"
It's obvious to me now that she's getting off on the very same adrenaline rush that I am.
Saturday. Noon. Pulling into the venue.
Obsession. Noun. "The state of being obsessed with someone or something."
Obsess. Verb. "Preoccupy or fill the mind of (someone) continually, intrusively, and to a troubling extent." Synonyms: preoccupy, possess, haunt, consume, plague, torment, hound, bedevil, beset, control, rule, grip...the list is endless.
Addiction. Noun. "The fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity."
Addict. Transitive Verb. "To devote or surrender (oneself) to something habitually or obsessively."
I think I have a problem.
No, I didn't look up these definitions last night after the show like I said I would. The text I got threw me for a loop and I wasn't right for the rest of the night. Sure, I purposely left my number in her phone, but I didn't expect to hear from her so fast--or so little, for that matter. I tossed and turned over it all night. Not only over the text, but over the fact that I gave her my number in the first
place--or even that I asked for hers. It was one hundred percent completely out of character for me and what scares me the most is that my wife never once crossed my mind during the entire exchange. I'm happily married and I love my family--but I turned around and gave my number to a fan.
No, I looked the definitions up just now as we pulled into the venue, after a night of restless sleep. Something is definitely wrong with me and I'm having an extremely hard time with succumbing to temptation. I'm afraid it may only get worse with time.
But how bad can it be if I never see her again?
She hasn't posted that she's attending any more shows and that comforts me a little. If I don't see her again, it might not be so difficult for me. She hadn't seemed that interested in talking to me last night and after the texts she sent me, she likely deleted my number out of her phone herself. She may have already taken care of the situation for me.
And so what if I like to cruise a little social media every now and then? It's not like I'm actually talking to anyone. Because I'm not. There's nothing wrong with checking in and seeing what everyone is up to.
I smile as I am satisfied with the silent pep talk I've just given myself. I don't have an unhealthy obsession or addiction with anything or anyone. That would be absurd.
My relief is short-lived when I look out the window and spy her friends in line at the venue. My fingers immediately fly to the app wall.
_________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:37pm. Walking.
I have yet to see HER. I guess I assume since I see her friends that she would be here, too. But I guess just because they were traveling didn't mean she would be, as well.
She hadn't posted on any of her social media when I checked earlier, either. What happened last night? Did I really freak her out that much? I've racked my brain all night and all day wondering at what part was the moment that officially did it for her? Was it the picture with the phone? Was that too much for her?
Hell, it was too much for me. I never should have done it.
I find myself purposely seeking out her friends so I can walk near them and maybe overhear what they're saying. I hope that her name comes up but it never does.
She is definitely not here. I truly think I'm making this entire thing to be much bigger than it actually is.
_______________________________________________
Saturday. 8:10pm. Opening act onstage.
Today has been a busy one so I've managed to stay off my phone. It makes me feel good that I didn't look at it all day. Maybe it's helping me to not be addicted or obsessed.
But then moments like this happen when you're alone and you're bored and--well, what do you do? You take out your phone and you pull up the app wall.
I'm getting a little tired of nearly ending up in the hospital each time I open the app lately. Really, I am. My heart nearly explodes out of my chest as I see HER post from three minutes ago. "Got here late but I'm already on an Mmmhops run! See you at the front!"
I'm sweating bullets. I seem to do that a lot lately. But shit, she's here! I was sold on the fact that yesterday was the only show she would be at! And she said, "See you at the front!" What did that mean? Was she talking to the app in general? Was she targeting me? She has to be targeting me. She just has to be. "See you at the front?" Well of course she'll see her friends at the front, I'm sure they already know she's here. Who else could she mean?
SHIT! We're sold out of Mmmhops! We sold out twenty minutes ago! I hate for her to be disappointed. I could text her, but I suddenly have a better plan, more devious than last night's, and I don't even feel close to guilty about it.
_________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:15pm. Thieving.
Addiction drives you to do strange things. Wait, is that a confession? Am I an addict? I think I might be. I know I keep going back and forth with it but I just can't decide. It's HER. It's all her. That's where I'll lay my blame.
For now, though, I'm going through bags backstage, collecting bus keys. It's easier than I thought it would be. Everyone is so trusting back here, it's not even funny. I find them on tables, in bags, in clothes pockets...
I'm pretty sure I have everyone's bus keys and I shove the metal collection in my pockets before putting a jacket on and attempting to sneak out into the venue.
__________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:20pm. At the bar.
I'm still wondering if maybe she targeted me because it's been thirteen minutes since she posted on the app and she's still standing at the bar. My heart pounds as I successfully make my way through the back of the venue, unnoticed. She's dressed simply in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt, her untamed sex hair as her only accessory. She's alone and my eyes dart around to see if I've been noticed. So far so good. I thank god the lighting is dimmer than normal at the bar.
The opener is onstage and the crowd seems to be really into him and I barely feel the need to worry about being noticed right this second. This relaxes me a little.
I walk up beside her and rest my arms on the bar as the bartender slides a beer to her. "You don't want to drink that," I say to her.
It's obvious that I've startled her, because she looks at me with the same surprised eyes she wore last night. I'm not understanding
this and I need to address it once and for all, before it officially drives me to the nuthouse. "Why are you acting like that?" I ask her,
unable to stop myself.
Her eyes darken quickly. "Acting like what?"
I find myself smirking at her. "Come on. For the second night in a row you've targeted me on the app wall and for the second night in a row, here I am. Why do you keep acting so surprised?"
She looks back at me, her expression stone cold. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You do know what I'm talking about because you're not fawning over me and trying to engage me in mindless chatter right now. It's been thirteen minutes and you're still standing at the bar."
She shakes her head. "It's been busy and the bartender's slow."
I narrow my eyes at her. "I don't think so."
She looks back at me in silence. It's apparent that she has no comeback and I smile at my victory. Except is that a victory? To render her speechless? Maybe things aren't going as they played out in my head...
"Why would I not want to drink this?" she asks, interrupting my thoughts and changing the subject.
I quickly try to recover and snap back into reality. "Uh, because it's not Mmmhops."
A smirk flashes across her lips. "Well then I guess I'm shit out of luck, seeing as it's sold out."
"What if I told you I could hook you up?"
"I guess I should be paying you, then, instead of him." She motions to the bartender.
I smile at her. "I wouldn't charge you anything."
"Who am I to turn down free beer?"
I glance around quickly and my eyes fall on a side door close to the bar. I nod toward it. "Go out that side door right there and give me a few seconds' head start."
She shakes her head. "If I walk out of the venue I can't get back in."
I look back at her, feeling the expression of skepticism on my face. "I can get you back in," I say matter-of-factly.
She looks back at me with a blank expression. "Okay, then."
____________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:25pm. Outside of the bus.
I can't believe how easily this is working. I'm ecstatic but at the same time I'm nervous as hell and calming down doesn't seem to be an option. I have a moment of clarity--what the fuck am I doing? Inviting a fan onto the bus? In secret? Is this me? Is this what I do?
But then, as I stand by the bus door, I see her walk up and I can't decide if my nerves have disappeared or if they've heightened. She's so incredibly sexy and there's really no one feature on her body that I can single out. I don't know what it is. She isn't perfect. She isn't gorgeous. She's pretty but my wife is prettier. She...has an aura about her. Is that a cheesy word? Aura? I don't care, that's what I'm going with. When I say she must have sex running through her veins, that's about the only way I can describe what she does to me.
She stops in front of me and looks at me expectantly. Without a word, I unlock the bus door and open it up for her. She doesn't move. "Um, after you," I urge her.
And then she speaks. "Seriously? What is this?"
Suddenly I'm confused. "What is what?"
"This." She points to the bus. "You're inviting me into your bus?"
"Um, well, that's where the beer is..."
"I just assumed you'd bring it out here."
I pause and I try to think fast. She has a point. A very valid one. That would be the logical thing to do. However with the position I find myself in now, logical pretty much flew out the window a long time ago. A response finally pops into my head. "If you're seen drinking it out here, there might be some issues...I mean it's not like we have enough to go around in there."
She glances back at the venue and then back at me. "Pretty sure nobody's gonna come out here anytime soon..."
Shit. There she goes again. Being logical. I mean, damn, she met me out here. What the hell is she expecting? The words fall out
of my mouth and I immediately regret sounding like such an idiot. "Well, you never know..."
She narrows her eyes at me and I brace myself for the words to follow. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
This question should have shocked me. Really, it should have scared the shit out of me. But instead, I don't skip a beat. "What if I
am?"
She also doesn't skip a beat. "This never was about beer, was it?"
"It was."
She studies my face for another moment and then, without a word, she boards the bus.
_______________________________________________
Saturday. 8:27pm. On the bus.
I double check to make sure I've locked the door behind me before following her into the common area of the bus. It's dark and I turn on a single light, enough to see what's going on around me. The light is dim but I don't dare turn on any more so as to not raise any suspicion from outside.
I expect to watch her look around the bus with curiosity but instead she acts as if she's unimpressed. Is she nervous? Is this a defense mechanism?
I reach into the refrigerator and retrieve two beers, popping off the caps with a bottle opener I find nearby. Handing her one, I attempt to make small talk, as my nerves have returned in full force. "So, what do you think?" I ask her.
She smiles. "I haven't even taken a drink yet."
"No, I mean about the bus."
She looks incredulous and my heart begins to pound. "The bus?"
"Yeah."
She smirks at me and finally takes a swig of the beer. "This isn't my first bus."
The statement floors me a little. I don't know how to take that. What I do know, however, is that the nerves I was just feeling
are now replaced with that old familiar thrill I love so much. "So...how many buses have you been on?" I ask, my curiosity killing me.
"I'm not a groupie or anything, if that's what you're thinking."
This is the first time I'm noticing how seductive her voice sounds. She doesn't sound any different than I've heard in the past--which
wasn't enough to base anything on, really. I can tell she isn't trying. It's completely natural. I think it might be turning me on...
"I wasn't suggesting you were," I respond to her.
"But you were thinking it."
She had me there. Of course I was thinking it. Who wouldn't be after a statement like that? "Enlighten me," I challenge her.
"We have friends who own tour buses. RV's, if you will. We travel with them sometimes on vacation."
"Who's 'we?' "
"My boyfriend and I."
"Tell me about him."
She swigs her beer again, this time longer than before, never taking her eyes off of me. "This is really good," she says.
"Don't dodge the question."
"Is it really necessary?"
"Just making conversation."
"How long have you been watching me?"
"What?" I'm dumbfounded. Completely caught off guard. I never, in a million years, expected this conversation to go in this direction. Well, maybe I did a little, but I never thought she'd be the one to initiate it.
At this moment I realize that we're still standing, but before I can invite her to sit, she takes it upon herself as if reading my mind. I choose to sit beside her, keeping a safe distance.
"Don't act so surprised," she responds. Then she chuckles. "That sounds familiar, doesn't it? Anyway, I know what's going on. I'm not an idiot, you know. I noticed how you played the song I asked for. You answered when I asked how a show went. And the roses? That was a nice touch. Not to mention I posted how I was at the bar and now here we are. You catch on fast. I'm impressed."
My mouth feels numb. My tongue has lost the will to live. Speaking is becoming difficult. "Uh, when--"
"Oh, if it makes you feel any better I didn't put two and two together till last night. When I realized that you didn't delete your number. Especially after I discovered that you deleted the number to my boyfriend's hotel room instead."
"I didn't know--"
"I know you didn't. But it still amused me."
"You didn't text back."
"What did you expect me to say?"
I don't know the answer to that question. I try to change the subject once more. Things aren't going as planned--I'm losing control here. She is completely controlling me and this entire conversation right now. I can't allow it. I attempt to change the subject. "Your
boyfriend's hotel room?"
She smiles and swigs her beer again. "He's a surgeon. Sometimes he travels for work."
"He was there yesterday."
"And now he's not."
"What do you do for work?"
"What did you think of my beach picture?"
________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:38pm. Temptation prevailing.
She has me. She has me so tightly wound around her finger that there's no getting out of it. She knows that I know exactly which picture she's referring to. I'm slowly losing my mind as I realize that she knows. She knows my secret. She knows that I watch. She knows that I wait. She knows that I depend on her.
I realize then that she shares the same secret with me and I can no longer respond to her verbally. My body won't allow it. I've lost all the control that I could possibly possess and I can't stop myself because the thrill caused by the adrenaline rush is too powerful for me to defeat.
Setting my beer down on the adjacent table, I take hers out of her hand and I kiss her. There is no hesitation on either of our
accounts and I feel the want instantly taking over and it becomes impossible to keep my hands off of her.
I let her guide me as she grips my shirt and lays back, pulling me on top of her. At that moment I am so desperate to be in that position that the only thing my mind has room for is my hands on her body and within seconds there isn't an inch of her I haven't explored.
As I kiss her, the thrill is insatiable. I feel like a fourteen-year-old boy again, feeling up a girl for the first time. I want nothing more right now than to strip her down and fuck the hell out of her but there's just something about feeling her body through her clothes mixed with the knowledge that neither one of us are supposed to be there that makes me want to savor the moment a little longer.
She moans in my mouth as I kiss her and my hand runs the length of her leg bent beside me. Her jeans provide a substantial barrier, but I don't care. I'm touching her and that's all that matters.
Suddenly needing more of her, I lift her shirt and lower myself so that I can taste her stomach. She gasps and I feel her stomach suck in and I can't help but smile at myself because she's obviously ticklish. As my mouth explores further up her body, and my hand creeps closer to her bra, she groans in pleasure and a loud banging on the bus door interrupts any intimate thoughts either of us were having.
_________________________________________________________
Saturday. 8:43pm. Interrupted.
I stop what I'm doing and look up toward the front of the bus as the banging continues and I hear Ike's voice loudly saying, "Tay, are you in there?"
The moment is sadly over as she begins to scramble out from underneath me and straighten her clothes out. She fixes her hair with
her hand and snatches her beer up off of the table.
Standing, I fix my clothes as well and I clear my throat as I head for the bus door. Stepping down the couple of steps to the door, I unlock it and open it up to a visibly annoyed older brother. "Didn't mean to be so loud, but I can't find my keys," he says to me.
I pray that my guilty face doesn't give me away. "Um, I haven't seen them. Did you need something?"
"I was looking for you."
"Well, you found me."
Ike narrows his eyes at me in suspicion. Fuck. I just know he's found me out. I just know it. "Is everything okay?"
I begin to fidget. I fidget when I get nervous. I can't help it and I wish I could control it. "Uh, actually..." I fight for an answer. "I'm kinda Skyping with Natalie right now. We're kinda going through something..."
Ike's expression immediately changes and he nods, knowingly. "Oh, okay. Okay, no problem. Uh, if you see my keys will you let me
know?"
"Yeah, no problem. I won't be here much longer. I know they're about to wrap it up in there."
He seems satisfied with my lie as he leaves the bus and I would normally seem disgusted with myself, except that it's completely dominated by the proudness of myself that I feel for pulling off the lie so well. When did I become this way? When did I become a liar and a cheater?
I hate that word, cheater. It's so harsh. I decide I won't use it again.
Nerves begin to become present as I walk back to the common area of the bus where SHE is still sitting. I stand there and look
down at her and, to my surprise, she smiles up at me and says. "So that was cutting it pretty close, huh?"
It's obvious to me now that she's getting off on the very same adrenaline rush that I am.