The second we pull up to the hospital, if you could call it that, Grant it jumping out of the car and heading for the front doors. His Jaguar is taking up two spots, but thankfully the lot is almost completely empty and we don’t appear to be in anyone’s way. Frankly, I’m blown away by the fact that this island even has a hospital, regardless of that fact that it appears to be no more than one story, with only four rooms, and is located on a small piece of property at the edge of town.

I follow briskly behind Grant, tightly wrapping my coat around my body as the wickedly cold air whips across my skin. Amber is with us as well, and she glances over at me with a strange look that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Where is she?” Grant demands to know as we enter the lobby, a question that would probably be met with confusion anywhere else, but makes perfect sense thanks to the fact that there’s currently only one patient.

“Just down the hall and to the right,” the nurse tells us from behind her desk.

The three of us continue onward, quickly ending up in the doorway of a small hospital room where a doctor is waiting. Jessica’s lying next to him in a tiny white bed, covered in thick blankets and looking pale. There’s a massive, red welt on her forehead, so bruised and bloody that it’s swelled into a massive bump.

It would probably be worse if it weren’t for the fact that Jessica is gently holding an ice pack against it.

During the car ride, Amber was only able to give us a vague description of what happened, her story quickly cut short by the fact that the hospital was less than a mile away. All we know is that Jessica fell in the water, and Amber had to drag her out.

“What happened?” Grant asks Jessica, but the doctor interjects.

“I’m Doctor Kent,” he says, extending his hand. “You must be Grant.”

Grant ignores the doctor completely, continuing towards Jessica and taking a seat on the stool by her bed. “Are you okay?”

Jessica nods and smiles. “Of course, baby.”

Finally, Grant turns his attention back to the doctor. “I’m sorry about that. Yes, I’m Grant.”

“Good,” the doctor offers with a smile. “Jessica had a pretty bad fall, as you can see from the bruise on her head. I did an x-ray and her skull is fine, but she suffered a rather large concussion, so I’d recommend a lot of rest.”

“Aren’t you supposed to not sleep after a concussion?” I question.

“That’s actually a myth,” the doctor explains. “After a blow like this, the brain needs rest. That’s not all she’s been through tonight, though.”

“I slipped on the dock,” Jessica finally croaks. “I’m so stupid. We shouldn’t have been down there in the dark. I was just walking along and then suddenly I was falling. I can’t remember anything after that.”

“Back on the beach and I heard a loud crack,” Amber continues, picking up the story from there. “When I called out for her, she didn’t respond, so I walked out onto the dock to look. I didn’t see Jessica at first, and then I suddenly spotted her floating in the water. I thought she was dead, honestly.”

“Oh my god,” Grant blurts.

Amber can’t help but smile at this outburst, loving the attention but trying her hardest not to let on. It doesn’t slip past me, though.

“I dove into the water,” Amber continues. “It was so cold. I couldn’t get Amber up onto the dock, so I had to drag her all the way back to the beach.”

“That’s where I woke up,” Jessica replies dramatically.

“They’re both going to be fine,” the doctor affirms, “but rest is very important at this point. Jessica was in the water for quite a long time, but there doesn’t appear to be any permanent hypothermic damage.”

“I’m just so lucky Amber was there,” Jessica says, laying it on thick.

The girls look to one another and exchange glances in a way that the men don’t seem to notice or mind, but makes me immediately start to question the validity of their story. Sure, it’s believable enough that someone could’ve slipped and fallen on that dock in the dark, but there’s something about the way these events are laid out that doesn’t quite add up to me.

Not to mention, the timing of everything is just a little too strange to ignore. Jessica threatens me over Grant, but I go out with him anyway, and the next thing I know she’s in a life or death situation that demands his attention. All the while, Amber gets to look like a hero for once, which is just the icing on the cake.

Of course, there’s nothing I can say or do about any of this without looking jealous, insane or both.

“I’m so sorry,” Grant sighs, leaning over the bed and hugging his wounded bird.

Jessica and me make eye contact over Grant’s shoulder as this happens, and for a split second her expression changes to one of smirking arrogance. She gives me a mischievous wink, but it disappears just as quickly as it arrives.

“I want to go home,” Jessica coos in Grants ear.

The muscular and protective rocker turns towards Doctor Kent. “Is that alright?”

The doctor nods. “She’s ready to leave, just make sure to keep her warm and give her lots of fluids. She needs to sleep immediately after arriving home, and should spend the next few days in bed.”

“Not a problem,” Jessica offers, a perfectly reasonable commentary on just how exhausted she is, if it weren’t for the fact that she reaches out and brushes Grant’s hand when she says this.

The next few minutes are spent signing Jessica out and helping her to the car, painstakingly assuring that everything is set up exactly how she likes it. She ends up riding in the black Jag with Grant, while I’m forced to transfer over to the disgusting yellow two-seater that I swore I’d never ride in.

Amber takes the wheel and we head back to our respective cabins in total silence, our eyes completely transfixed on the winding road before us while wading deep in our own very separate thoughts.

 

 

For the first time since I arrived here on the island, I actually want to leave.

Sure, I was frustrated, and upset, and angry. I went from thinking Grant was a complete asshole, to a handsome troublemaker, to a lost cause. But at no point did I actually want to leave this place that I knew was destined to eventually inspire me.

Ironically, now that the words have started to flow, I want to get as far away from here as possible. There’s no comfort for me on the island, no ease, but I suppose that’s a small sacrifice to make for art.

I still haven’t come up with anything that’s good enough for Taylor to take a look at, but it’s coming. The characters have all started to fall into place; conniving, awful people that will eventually create the most beautiful drama once my story unfolds. Now, I just need to build the structure of this story in my mind, and after that it’s just a matter of letting them loose to play.

Meanwhile, I’ve been avoiding any contact with Grant’s cabin, and they seem to be avoiding any contact with me. It’s only been a few days since Jessica’s accident, but things have been relatively quiet, not a single note of thunderous music floating up from down below.

This afternoon, I’ve decided to get out of the house and take a hike up into the hillside. I’m not far from the cabins below, but just one or two steps past the tree line will transport you into a place of lush wilderness, thick trunks shooting up from all around you while massive, dark green ferns spill over from every rocky crevice.

My path is steep, taking me directly up the hillside in a series of switchbacks that are just barely visible. It’s not until I’m half a mile in that I realize I’ve been following nothing more than a rugged deer path, and it’s unlikely any other human hiker has been out here before me.

I’m an outsider in this majestic place, but I see that as a privilege. This is a secret moment that I’ll never share, something that can forever remain between the trees and me.

At least, that’s what I thought.

Suddenly, there’s a loud snap from behind me, a branch cracking into pieces under a heavy foot.

I spin around to find Grant walking up the path. He stops when our eyes meet.

“What are you doing out here?” I finally question. “Something tells me this isn’t a coincidence.”

Grant laughs, his boyish smile immediately getting to work on my cold exterior. I can sense my initial defenses already melting away, no match for his rugged charm. He’s wearing black pants and a heather grey T-shirt that seems perfectly crafted for his incredible, muscular body, hugging his broad chest in just the right way.

“You’re mad at me,” Grant finally offers.

I draw in a deep breath, taking my time as I determine how to react to this. Truth be told, I’m absolutely angry with Grant, but I’m not exactly sure why. The man makes no secret about how difficult he is to deal with, and any emotional attachment that I’ve developed is my responsibility, not his.

I’m well aware of this, and yet for some reason the idea of him lying around down there with those two awful bitches makes me frustrated to the very core.

Instead of saying that, however, I change the subject. “How’s Jessica?” I ask.

“She’s… okay,” Grant offers. “Seems like she should be doing better by now, but then again she was in that water for a pretty long time.”
“You don’t say,” I reply, trying my best to hide my disdain, but doing a terrible job of it.

“I’ve been working,” Grant informs me, his eyes suddenly flickering with excitement. “Your talk the other day really helped me. Honestly. I saw you hiking up this way and I needed to come thank you.”

“Our talk?” I question.

“In the car,” Grant continues. “You told me to channel my frustration into my art. I mean, it’s seems so obvious, but for some reason I could never really do that before. Any time things got too personal, I’d just shut it down, but you encouraged me to push through.”

“The acoustic song?” I ask.

Grant nods, smiling wide. “I finished the arrangement and tracked some vocals on it. They’re not finished, but it’s a good start.”

Finally, my cold exterior breaks. “That’s… wonderful,” I tell him.

Grant steps towards me, closer and closer until we are right up next to each other. He takes my hand and then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a tiny thumb drive that he places in my palm. I close my fingers around it.

“Be very, very careful with that,” Grant explains.

I nod. “What is it?”

“A rough draft,” the muscular rocker informs me. “Just a quick recording of that song. I’m calling it Moonbeam for now.”
“Sounds nice,” I tell him, immediately remembering the way that the yellow light of the moon had reflected off of the water while we had dinner together, the shimmering beauty of it’s form stretching across the waves.

I put the thumb drive into my pocket.

“Is that it?” I question.

I suddenly realize that our bodies are just barely touching one another now, the tension between us hanging heavy and thick in the air.

“I don’t know,” Grant replies with a smirk. “Is it?”

My breathing heaving, I suddenly find my body surging with lust, completely taken by the rock and roller’s powerful, masculine presence. He may be endlessly frustrating, but right now that’s the last thing on my mind.

“What are you waiting for?” I whisper, unable to make the final move myself.

Suddenly, Grant is kissing me deeply, or lips meeting in an explosion of passion. Before I can even fully comprehend what’s happening, my hands are roving across his body, tracing the curves of his muscular chest that I’ve spent so long mapping with my eyes. His large frame is even more impressive under the palms of my hands, every single inch of the man toned to absolute perfection.

“What am I doing?” I gasp.

“Taking what you want,” Grant informs me.

I have no idea if this is the truth. I’m not interested in joining the man’s rockstar harem, and I’ve made that abundantly clear, but the cravings bubbling up within me would say otherwise.

Of course, one moment of passion doesn’t have to be anything other than just that, and all these things can be sorted out later. Right now, consequences are the last thing I want to think about.

I push any logic out of my mind, instead focusing on the powerful cravings that continue to build within me. I’m completely overwhelmed with animalistic desire, wanting nothing more than to give myself over to Grant completely.

I quickly pull the man’s shirt up over the top of his head, tossing it to the side and revealing his brawny torso in all of its glory. Moment’s later, my top is coming off too, revealing the cute neon sport’s bra underneath.

Pushing him backwards, I continue to make out with Grant until his rear comes to rest against a massive tree trunk, spiraling up above us in a cascade of long, sweeping branches. I’m clawing at the man now, my fingers drifting lower and lower until, eventually, they reach his belt buckle and tear it open. I swiftly move on to Grant’s zipper, dropping to my knees and yanking down his waistband.

Suddenly, Grant’s enormous manhood has erupted out into my face, a rock hard shaft with a thickness unlike anything I have ever seen. It’s so enormous that it actually startles me, staring down this rock and roll python as it sways in the fresh forest air.

Without a word, I open wide and take Grant’s member between my lips, bobbing my head up and down across his length while the man above me moans loudly, his voice echoing out across the woods. I’ll be perfectly honest, it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this, but I pick things up again quickly.

Grant is clearly enjoying himself, his head tilted back as a long, satisfied groan escapes his lips. With the large tree positioned firmly behind him, the man has nowhere to squirm to, nowhere to pull back and release the pleasure that is now bubbling up within. I can feel his gorgeous abs flexing and releasing above me, struggling to adjust to the cascade of sensations that are now being thrust upon him.

Suddenly, Grant takes me by the shoulders and pushes me back a bit, then helps me to my feet. “You’re too good to me,” he coos. “Let me be good to you.”

“But you’re a bad boy,” a reply with a laugh. “You’re telling me you can be good, too?”

“For you, I can try,” Grant affirms, his tone momentarily shifting towards the serious.

The man takes me with his massive hands and carefully slips my hiking shorts down, along with my panties. I step out of them as Grant looks me over, smiling wide at the thought of whatever he has planned.

Suddenly, Grant is using his enormous, muscular arms to lift me up in the air, spinning me around so that now my back is pressed up against the tree. The only difference, of course, is that I’m five and a half feet or so off of the ground.

My legs over both of Grant’s shoulders, I now find him with his face buried deep in my crotch, the man’s wet tongue softly lapping at my most sensitive areas.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, my face flushed red from the incredible sensations that are pulsing through my body.

Grant appears to know exactly what he’s doing, alternating between long, slow licks and a series of staccato flicks from the tip of his tongue. He somehow knows exactly how my body is going to react, pushing me forward and then pulling me back in a never-ending series of tension and release. I grab the back of his head and pull him even closer, desperately running my fingers through the rockstar’s messy brown hair.

Up here in the air I feel even more disconnected from responsibility or consequences, completely free to sexually express myself with the help of this beautiful lover. While the woman I used to be still haunts the forest floor below, I’ve graduated to the trees. My animalistic desires have brought me even closer to nature than ever before, the fresh influence I’d been so desperately looking for.

Or maybe I’m just having a really good time. Sometimes, as a writer, it’s easy to get carried away with the metaphors I see in the world. A good fuck is beautiful, and sexy, and sensual, but it’s also fun.

Maybe it took a guy like Grant to help me fully realize that.

By now, the first simmers of orgasm have already started to bubble up within me. I push into them, allowing these feelings to consume me as Grant keeps up the pace with his lapping tongue.  It’s a lot to take, but I refuse to turn away, forcing myself to accept these powerful sensations head on.

The beautiful orgasmic warmth starts a the pit of my stomach, then slowly begins to make it’s way out across my body, blossoming with tendrils of aching pleasure. I’m trembling wildly as it moves down my arms and legs, filling me up with a potent ache and causing my eyes to roll back into my head. I’m breathing heavy, my heart slamming hard in my chest as I edge closer and closer to the edge of climax.

“Oh my God,” I groan, my voice cascading down the tree covered hillside. “Oh my God! Oh my God!”

The pressure continues to build until, finally, the dam breaks. I throw back my head and let out a howl of pleasure, my scream echoing out around us and causing a plume of nearby birds to erupt from their tree.

In this moment, Grant and I are fully connected to one another; I single entity drawn together by forces much bigger than ourselves. Sure, our paths have twisted and turned to get here, but they make so much sense once they finally meet.

When the sensation finally passes, Grant begins to lower me down, but we’re not through with each other yet. Before my feet have a chance to touch the ground, my muscular lover allows me to wrap my legs around his waist, hovering with expect precision above his enormous rod.

Now at the same height, our gaze is locked together, eyes burning deep into one another’s soul. We’re so close that our foreheads are touching, the sweaty hair tangling as our heavy breathing starts to sync. Moment’s later, Grant lowers me down, impaling my slender body across his mammoth shaft.

The first thing that strikes me is the incredible feeling of fullness. I’ve been with plenty of men before, but never had their member fit so perfectly within me. If I was any less aroused, in fact, it might be too tight, but in this state of belligerent lust the insertion is exactly what it should be.

Grant immediately gets to work grinding up into me, using his hips in a series of rhythmic swoops as I hold on tight.

The sex is incredible, but even more incredible is the feeling of closeness that I get when our bare skin is pressed so tightly. As emotionally intimate as me and Grant have grown, our physical connection has been completely barren up until now. Suddenly, I’m receiving it all at once, and the overwhelming sensation of Grant’s touch is everything that I hoped it would be.

Our heaving bodies start slow and then gradually begin to speed up, connecting in ways that I never could’ve imagined possible. The man has a beautiful confidence to his rhythm, a true musician even when his instrument is sexual gratification.

It’s not long before the orgasmic sensations begin to blossom up within me yet again, only this time the feeling has spread out across a second body. Grant and me have merged into a single entity, the movements of our writhing frames perfectly in sync as that familiar, warm feelings continues to build within us.

I can immediately tell that this moment is not just another random fuck for Grant. There is something else brewing here, something that can only be attained when two opposing, but equally powerful, forces collide.

“It’s so good,” I begin to stammer, the words falling limply from my mouth in a blissed out mantra, repeating over and over again as they escalate in volume.

Soon enough, Grant is moaning as well, our cries blending in perfect harmony. The man doesn’t let up for a second, slamming into me now as my fingers dig deep into his back.

Suddenly, the two of us throw our heads back in unison, letting out parallel screams of passion that go on and on for what seems like forever.

When the feeling of orgasm finally passes, Grant sets me down once more.

I begin to gather my clothes, pulling them on while my eyes remain transfixed on Grant’s perfect, tattoo covered physique. I’m still having trouble believing that this man is real.

“That was incredible,” the muscular rockstar tells me as he finishes clothing himself.

“Just the workout I was looking for,” I joke, still high from my recent orgasm.

The two of us finish getting dressed and then pause, standing for a moment as we continue to come to terms with what just happened. Without saying a word we come together again, only this time we do nothing more than hug.

Our arms wrapped around one another’s bodies, we simply exist in each other’s presence for a while, listening to the wind as it pulses through the trees and the soft, distant sound of the ocean as it laps along the shore.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” I finally inform him. “I’m still not interested in being a part of your little crew.”

“I know,” Grant tells me with a halfhearted smile.

“Do you care?” I question.

Grant sighs. “Yeah. I do.”
“And?” I continue.

The single word goes unanswered, drifting away in the wind.

Eventually, Grant and me release one another and turn to head back down the hill. The purpose of that hike was to get my heart pumping and my inspiration flowing, and although the route I’d planned remains incomplete, that’s exactly what has happened. I’m ready to create, ready to take these feelings that swirl around inside of me and spill them out onto the page.

When Grant and I exit the tree line, we instantly spot two figures standing over by his cabin. It’s Amber and Jessica, the latter wrapped tightly in a warm blanket while she stares daggers deep into my soul. It’s clear they’re trying to be intimating, to stake their claim after hearing what must’ve been a hell of a commotion from up in the woods. I don’t mind.

“Hey there!” I offer with a wink and a wave.

The women refuse to respond.

I turn my attention back to Grant as our path’s split. “I can’t wait to listen to this song,” I tell him, loud enough for Jessica to hear. “I’ll let you know what I think.”

Grant nods as the expression on Jessica’s face sinks to an even more depressing depth. I can see now that she’s barely holding herself together, but before Jessica has a chance to collapse completely, the furious woman turns and heads back into the darkness of their cabin.

I continue on my way, waiting until I’ve gotten back inside before breaking out in a full on smile. I know that what just happened between Grant and I will only serve to complicate things, and it was probably a terrible idea from the start, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t enjoy myself.

My biggest concern, of course, is that no matter how hard I try, Grant continues to work his way deeper into my heart. There’s a connection between us that refuses to come undone, slowly pulling us closer and closer together.

Now that we’ve had sex, will that fascination finally be quelled? Or will things just continue to grow even more heated than before?

I sit down at the kitchen table; letting these romantic thoughts bloom out across my mind. I picture a myriad of different futures with Grant, what it would be like to travel the world with him, or to settle down and start a family.

It only takes a moment for me to snap out of it.

Of course this will be the end of it, I realize, because Grant and me can never truly be a real item. Regardless of how attracted I am to the man, or how much he tries to release the sweet soul hidden behind his bad boy exterior, he’s currently not in any position to have a functioning, adult relationship.

And I’ve got a book to write.

Still, I can’t ever seem to push Grant out of my mind entirely. Even when I’m deep in the zone, my fingers flying wildly across the keyboard, Grant is still hidden somewhere deep down within the subliminal recesses of my brain.

I get a few paragraphs in and then stop abruptly, realizing now that the new character I’ve created is even more like the arrogant, depraved rockstar next door.

Suddenly reminded of the song he gave me, I pull out Grant’s thumb drive and push it into my laptop’s USB port, watching as the file suddenly appears on screen. I double click the icon, then lean back into my chair as sweet sound begins to wash over me.

I recognize the first few acoustic guitar chords immediately, their pattern stuck firmly in my mind ever since hearing them down by the water on that cool evening not long ago. The sweeping tones send chills through my body, drawing me in.

Usually, I like to listen to music while I’m doing something else, whether it’s writing or cleaning or driving in my car. This track, however, demands my full attention. It’s sparse and beautiful, pulling the listener in without making a big scene about it.

The second that Grant’s singing starts, my breath catches in my throat. Up until this point, I’d only known this tune as an instrumental piece, but now that it’s presented with a soft, delicate vocal over the top, the song takes on a completely new life. Honestly, I can barely believe this is Grant.

Listening to the song is like staring directly into the core of this rugged bad boy’s inner self, that part that existed long before all of the arrogance and sleaze began to pile on in layer after thick layer. This is the part of Grant I’ve caught slight glimpses of over the past week, a vulnerability now dragged out into the light and beautifully exposed.

It’s a love song, I realize, focusing now on the lyrics. The words are vague and mysterious, but I think it’s about me.

When the song finally finishes, I wipe a single tear away from the corner of my eye. I had no idea I was crying, my mind elsewhere as the song flowed over and through me. Although it’s clear from the recording that this is nothing more than a rough sketch of the track to come, I can already tell that it’s exactly what Grant needs if he wants to push Bad Blue Medicine back into the limelight. It’s one of those songs that is utterly undeniable, regardless of who created it or where it comes from. It’s pure, distilled emotion.

Immediately, I find myself compelled to head back over and give Grant my thoughts, but before I get a chance to do so, I sentence pops into my head.

I smile, writing down the words and staring back at them as they stand proudly in beautiful black pixel. Another sentence comes, and then another, and another. Before I know it, I’m off and running, the words flowing freely from my hands in a way that I dare not second-guess or stop.

I’ve created plenty of character sketches, and I’ve mapped out structures and scenes, but this is something entirely different. This is something that I haven’t felt in ages, Grant’s open expression pushing me to do some creative bleeding of my own.

I’m writing my book now.

By the time I come back up for air, it’s late in the evening, only a sliver of sun left over the distant oceanic horizon. I’ve somehow blown through fifteen thousand words, a lot of writing by any standard, and more than enough to send Taylor’s way.

I’ll talk to Grant about his song in the morning, but right now, I’m exhausted.