A Song For Julia Part 32

"I need a pack of Marlboro, and um ..." I looked around, frantically, for condoms.

"And ... what?"

"Um ..." c.r.a.p. This woman was older than my grandmother. "Do you carry condoms?"

"Sure," she said. Then she pointed to a rack. They were mixed in with the aspirin and tampons and hemorrhoid creams. No frickin' wonder I didn't see them. I grabbed a box and threw it on the counter, and she rung me up.

"Bless you," I said. "You've saved my life."

The lady one-upped me. She winked, her expression lewd. "Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

First time ever a sixty-year-old woman made me blush. I smiled at her and said, "Um ... thanks," and ran for the elevators.

I wasn't tired now. I was bouncing on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet, ready to get the h.e.l.l upstairs. The Musak was playing in the background of the atrium, hideously soothing. I could see a fountain splas.h.i.+ng. I was immune to the serenity. I wanted upstairs now. And the elevator was taking forever. I could have taken the stairs quicker than this.

Finally, the bell rang, the elevator doors opened, and I was inside. I hit the number eight and turned around, looking out through the gla.s.s.

It was nice-I'll admit that. Never stayed in a hotel before, though I'd hung out in the alley behind the Charles Hotel and gotten high with my friends. The lobby here was huge, with the big fountain in the center, and rooms facing inside. We were on eight. I needed to be on eight. Now.

Door finally opened, and I almost sprinted down the hall, swiped the keycard, and I was in.

Then I stopped and took a breath.

Julia had undressed, leaving on only a very s.e.xy black lace bra, the blanket turned down. She was stunning. And apparently waiting for me. And while waiting, she'd fallen dead asleep. I sighed. Then I slid out of my jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

I walked over and kneeled down beside the bed, our faces inches apart. She looked peaceful, a half smile on her face. I wondered if she was already dreaming, and if so, what about. I wanted to be inside her head and know everything about her. But for now, I kissed her gently on the cheek, pulled up the blanket and tucked her in.

In her sleep, she looked so innocent. Except I could see the scars. She'd made a pile of bracelets on the nightstand, leaving on only the worn pink and white friends.h.i.+p bracelet. Her lips were slightly curled at the edge of her mouth, and asleep, she looked carefree, young.

My eyes dropped to the scars again. I'd kill anybody who hurt her.

I should wake her up.

No. I shouldn't.

She might appreciate it if I did.

She might not.

She needed the sleep. I sighed and walked to the sliding gla.s.s door, then slipped out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. It was quiet up here, though I could see the traffic on the highway below. I took a drag, and glanced back through the window. She'd rolled to her side, pulling the covers around her.

I didn't know how to do this. I didn't know how to be in a relations.h.i.+p. Especially with someone who didn't believe in love or relations.h.i.+ps. It's crazy. I'm the guy who grabs a girl out of the crowd and screws her, then sends her home in a cab in the morning. If that much. In a lot of ways, I've spent my life being a complete p.r.i.c.k.

I didn't want to be a p.r.i.c.k any more.

Which didn't mean I didn't look at Julia as a s.e.x object. I've not suddenly turned into a saint, and looking at her, it was inescapable. But she was also smart as h.e.l.l and determined, and she took on those record industry guys like no one I know could have. She cared about Sean, and loved music, and even though she wouldn't admit it, even to herself, I was starting to think she might love me.

Plus, as of today, I was officially a rock star. So screw it.

I tossed my cigarette, watching the coal as it flew out of sight and slid the door open. There were two hotel toothbrushes, one of them still wrapped in plastic in the bathroom. I sloshed water in my mouth and slid into bed with her, instead of in the other bed.

I curled up behind her, put my arm around her and went to sleep.

Are you serious? (Julia) An unfamiliar alarm clock was screaming at me. And someone's arm was wrapped tight around my waist.

I struggled to open my eyes and figure out just where the h.e.l.l I was, when it came back. Los Angeles. That was Crank wrapped around me. And the alarm was going off. Which meant we needed to be at the airport in an hour. I stretched out and switched off the alarm.

I groaned, then rolled over and faced Crank.

Twenty-four hours of stubble had sprouted on his face, shading his chin and making me want to miss that plane. But I had cla.s.s on Monday, and he had to work, and there wasn't time, and d.a.m.n it. I leaned forward and kissed him, hard on the lips. His eyes popped open immediately, and I said, forcefully, "You suck!"

He was startled.

"Get up," I said. "We've got to get to the airport."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," he said. "Are we late? What did I do?"

"Left me hanging," I said. "So you could buy cigarettes."

I turned away and sat up. My head was swimming, my body clock all out of whack now.

"Actually," he murmured, very quietly, "I went to buy condoms. But you were asleep when I got up here."

I leaned forward and laughed, but that made my head start hurting. "Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, sheepishly.

"I'm going to get a shower," I said.

I got up and stumbled to the shower, while he groaned and sat up. Then I walked over to my purse near the door and tore open the box inside. His back was to me, so he jumped when I threw the first packet at him, whacking him in the back of the head with a wrapped condom.

"What the h.e.l.l?" he said, jerking. The next one caught him on the side of the face.

"Condoms, punk," I said, throwing another one. That one he caught. He lifted it up and shook his head and groaned.

I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. G.o.d. I couldn't believe he'd gone to buy condoms. Why didn't he just say something?

I turned on the water, fiddling with the temperature until it was right, then slipped out of my bra and panties and got in the shower.

I stuck my head under the stream of water, closed my eyes and sighed, already feeling my headache starting to clear. I needed that. Usually I keep regular hours, and while I'm not p.r.o.ne to jetlag, staying up for 24 hours straight isn't normal for me.

I'd have gladly stayed up a couple more, if he'd made it upstairs. I felt stupid: I'd carefully arranged the room, and myself, as provocatively as possible. Then stared up at the ceiling, getting more and more frustrated, as my eyes became heavier and heavier. Next thing I knew, the alarm was going off.

I pulled my head out from under the water and started to reach for the shampoo when I heard his voice.

"You've got ten seconds to say no, or throw something at me, or yell or whatever. Otherwise, I'm coming in there."

I froze. My heart was suddenly beating heavily, my chest tight, and I felt lightheaded. I hadn't expected this. In the shower? I'd dated Willard for almost two years, and never once had something like this happened. He was straight missionary position, once a week, like clockwork. There were a couple times when I had difficulty staying awake when we were together.

Not now. I felt tingling as the water beat against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and then behind me, the shower curtain sliding.

I didn't move. I couldn't. I literally couldn't move a muscle. Then suddenly, I felt his hands slide around me and his lips against my neck.

I let out a small moan as his lips brushed against my ears, and his right hand cupped my breast. Then his other hand dropped down, between my legs, and I pressed back against him, hard. He pulled me against him, tighter, and I twisted my head to the left and met his lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I closed my eyes, whimpering.

"Hold still," he said and broke away from me. The sudden separation was almost painful. But then he was back, and he whispered, "Got to wash that hair," and he began to rub shampoo into my hair, running his fingers against my scalp, ma.s.saging.

"I love your hair," he said. "I could do this all day."

I could too. My body was slick with the shampoo, sliding against his, as he slowly rinsed my hair, then he began to rub the little bottle of hotel conditioner into my hair. It was all I could do to stay breathing as he nipped at my left ear with his teeth and then began rubbing body wash all over me.

The tension was killing me. My whole body was tingling, and I was breathing in short, rapid breaths. I had to do something to get control, and I whispered, "Why should I give you what you want after you left me hanging last night?"

He growled in my ear, "Because neither of us can stop now."

Oh, dear G.o.d, he was right. He ran his hands over every inch of my body, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, my back, my b.u.t.t ... setting the nerves of my entire body on fire. After he rinsed me, he turned off the water. Immediately, gooseb.u.mps popped up, and he reached out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. Then he stepped out and dried himself quickly while I watched. He was beautiful, not built ma.s.sively, but muscular everywhere it counted. I held my breath as I watched. Then he looked up and met my eyes. "Bed. Now."

He didn't have to ask twice.

I have to go (Crank) For the hundredth time, I found myself wis.h.i.+ng I'd quit smoking a long time ago, as we ran up the terminal for our plane, which was departing in less than twenty minutes. Still I kept up with Julia, who it turns out was a frickin' athlete. I'd had good s.e.x in my day. But, wow.

Before you think I'm a complete pig ... never mind. I am. I was intentionally running behind her as we tore through the terminal.

We arrived at the gate with thirty seconds to spare. Bless her for those first cla.s.s tickets, because that put us in the first row of the plane. Both of us got to our seats, put away our backpacks, buckled up, then leaned against each other gasping for air as the attendants closed the doors of the plane and prepared for takeoff.

I leaned close and whispered, "You're gonna need another shower."

She whacked me on the shoulder. I grinned, pleased with myself.

"So ... what next?"

She made a face at me. "You can sleep or whatever. I've got a paper to finish."

d.a.m.n.

Once we hit alt.i.tude, she had her laptop out. I read the in-flight magazine (boring), watched the movie (also boring, some chick flick), and then I read over her shoulder (most boring, she was writing an economics paper).

On the other hand, when I was reading over her shoulder, I could smell her. And that was nice.

After a few minutes of her typing and me studying her very close up, she asked in a half-amused voice, "What are you doing?"

"Learning about economics," I replied in the smoothest voice I could muster.

She snorted. "What exactly have you learned so far?"

I gave her my best charming smile, and then with a completely straight face, I said, "That some things are incredibly rare and precious. "

Okay. I was hamming it up. But screw it. I wanted more than occasional companions.h.i.+p and s.e.x. I wanted her.

She scrunched up her nose at me and went back to typing. d.a.m.n it.

She finally finished the paper, and the plane landed. Half an hour later, we were in the car, headed back to my place to meet with the band. I'd called this morning and told them all to be there. I didn't say why. Now, riding in the car with Julia, I could feel the antic.i.p.ation building. They were going to completely freak. But as crazy as it sounds, my mind wasn't even on that.

It was on the fact that Julia was driving back to my place. Now. At night.

"What do you have going on tomorrow?"

"Studying," she answered. "Why?"

"Why don't you stay over?"

Her eyes darted to me, then back to the road. And she was silent. For a really long time. Finally she said, "Crank ... I need you to know ... I'm not ... I don't ... s.h.i.+t!"

Oh, no. "Forget about it," I said. "It was just a suggestion."

"I don't want you to get hung up on me."

Too late for that. I didn't answer.

A moment later, she said, "d.a.m.n it! I'm too involved already."

I couldn't help myself. "My Dad used to say, 'In for a penny, in for a pound.'"

"a.s.shat," she said.

"Don't be calling Dad names."

She rolled her eyes. "I meant you."

"So we're back to this, huh?"

"Back to what?"

"You being a complete b.i.t.c.h because I'm nice to you."

She gripped the steering wheel, glared at me for a second, and then looked back to the road.

"You should stop being nice to me," she said.

"Keep this up and I might."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just ... I'm not cut out for that kind of commitment. I've told you that. I don't want to end up hurting you. And you're making it really hard for me."

"I don't understand how. It's not like I'm not great in bed."

She was silent for just a second and then snickered. I grinned at her, and that made her laugh. I loved it when she laughed. Her whole face lit up, it was a complete transformation. If I could make her laugh every moment of every day, I would.

"Better?" I asked.