to me. When he touches me or smokes or…
I have to stop. But I can’t. I love him and that tattoo is making me crazy.
The bike rumbles as we wait for the light to change. Usually he’d touch my hand or rub my leg. Sometimes he’ll grab my hand and slowly bring it to his cock. This morning, nothing. He’s sitting straight, hands resting on his thighs.
Great.
I want to rewind time, go back to Sunday. He woke me up at 5:00 a.m. to watch the sun rise on Los Angeles Crest Highway. We laughed, held hands, talked about performing. The rush of being in front of a crowd. I told him about the New York City Ballet, and he talked about his music and how songs come to him. As all the colors burst upon us, it was magical, and all I wanted was to lean into him and tell him I think he’s wonderful, that I want to stay.
He revs the engine and leans low and I follow his movements, my daydream disappearing. We roar into the busy parking lot. I was hoping to have a minute with Charlie. He lets the bike rumble as he waits for me to get off at the curb.
Swallowing back the urge to punch his black cut, I take the helmet off and use the Disciples logo as a bull’s-eye. Gracefully, I swing my leg off and hand him his helmet. He takes it and our eyes lock. Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “I need to know who MJ is.”
He smirks and shakes his head. “That’s what this is all about?” His eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses, but I hold my breath because I know what’s coming.
“MJ is my one true love.”
If he wanted to slam home the fact that I’m betting on a lost cause, he did it. I almost scream, Liar, but he has her name on his hand. See, he does have a heart; but he’s given it to someone with the initials MJ.
“I told you, Cookie, ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”
I can’t look at him. I refuse to let him see that his words have made me want to start screaming and never stop. He doesn’t get to do this, at least not today on my birthday.
“Thank you,” I spit out. “You’ve been abundantly clear this morning.” I nod at him and then spin to go into the diner saying over my shoulder, “Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll have Cindy bring me ho—back to the clubhouse.” I almost plow straight into a couple coming out.
“Sorry.” I frantically move around them, heading toward the office.
“Hola, mi amour.” Victor, my favorite daytime cook waves at me from the kitchen. He’s one of the nicest men. Last week he brought in his three-year-old daughter who recently started ballet. So darn cute. He and his wife had her all decked out in a pink tutu. He loves his wife and family. He was the one who planted the seed about me maybe teaching dance. I was gonna ask Axel what he thought. But I guess now I need to put my focus on getting an apartment. Maybe Charlie can take pity on me and give me an advance?
“Hi.” Despite the concerned look on his face, I run past him into the office. Looking around, all I want is a small spot to cry. My heart hurts, head throbs, it feels like he’s taken my soul without me even knowing that I gave it to him the first time I looked into his beautiful eyes. Choking back the lump in my throat, I snort. I’ll never be me without him. I want to double over and sob until I can’t cry anymore.
Walking over to the leather couch, I sink down into it. I’m about ready to let it out so that I can pick myself up when the door bangs open revealing a concerned Charlie and an angry Cindy.
“What’s happened?” Charlie sits next to me. Her long dark hair falls over one shoulder like a waterfall and I wish I was her.
Sweet, beautiful, Charlie.
“Are you hurt? Call Axel and have him come get her,” she informs Cindy who looks like a cop that just caught me stealing.
“I’m fine.” My voice is loud. Though I try to smile, instead, I wipe under my eyes like that will stop the tears.
“You’re not fine. What happened?”
I sigh and look up at the ceiling. “Oh, I did the