Chapter 1 – Lola

I kick my red cowboy boots together anxiously as I stare up to the stage. It might only be a small little bar in a tiny little town at the moment, but I always imagine myself in Madison Square Garden with hundreds of people cheering my name as they love my music. Maybe it’s a bit of a far-off fantasy, but I always have been a bit of a dreamer. Plus, I don’t think that I’ll ever get anywhere in life if I don’t visualize where I would ideally like to be. What’s the point of doing anything if I don’t give it my all.

“You got your guitar there, Lola Boots?” asks Doreen, the friendly faced older bar maid that practically loves in this joint. I don’t think she helps my super star fantasies since she already treats me like I am on. “You look good today, girl. Those denim hot pants are going to kill the crowd. You’ll drive them all wild.”

I smile ironically at that comment. It’s been a long time since anyone looked at me like I’m someone desirable. I did have a long-term boyfriend in school, someone who was supposed to become my husband, but when the time came around for us to go off to college together, for me to do music and him business, my mother got diagnosed with life threatening cancer and I just couldn’t leave. We were supposed to stay together but despite that, I got overwhelmed with caring for my dying mother and he got sucked in by his brand new world. It just couldn’t work. We drifted apart and became two different people. It was sad, but not shocking. We both knew that it was coming for a long time before it did.

Still, we split up four years ago now, there’s no reason for me still to be alone. I’m sure Rory moved on a long time ago, but I’m still stuck here in the small town where nothing else changes. No new guys move here and everyone my age has pretty much gone. Maybe I should be gone too, but despite the fact that my mother died a while back I still have responsibilities here. I cannot leave at the moment, so I just need to accept my life as it is.

“Yeah, I think I’m just about ready. Should be fun, right?”

“Ooh, it always is.” Doreen grips onto my arm and she gives me an intense look. “We all enjoy your sets, you know that. Everyone says you should be on the big screen.”

“Maybe if I could afford to leave,” I joke, blaming it on my lack of funds rather than anything else. “Fingers crossed, hey? Maybe one day I will be.”

“Well, I suppose you spend most of your days so busy at the farm, it’s hard to find time for yourself.” Doreen knows why, but thankfully she doesn’t voice it. I don’t need that distraction while I’m just about to sing. “But I have to say you do a great job.”

“Yeah.” I nod enthusiastically. “That’s true. It is hard, but I’m trying my hardest.”

She rubs my arm and smiles reassuringly at me. “You’ll get there. I don’t know when, but you will do one day. We all believe in you, you know that, right?”

“I hope so.” I don’t know if it’s just a dream, it probably is. I can’t really imagine myself leaving this town and doing anything amazing, but I also can’t let go of the idea completely, just in case. “We’ll see. I appreciate all your support anyway, it means a lot to me.”

Doreen claps her hands loudly and grabs the attention of the few people scattered around the bar. They all turn to look at her, knowing what’s going to happen. Like I said, nothing ever changes in this town, it’s the same routine every single week.

“Right everyone.” Her commanding voice rings through the bar, grabbing everyone’s eyes. “It’s time for Lola so shut your ugly mouths and listen, will you?”

Everyone cheers and claps, making me feel amazing. This is why I do this, because it’s a boost. It allows me to live out just some of my fantasies without leaving my responsibilities. I step up onto the stage and smile around at everyone. The usual faces look back at me, the lonely old men who have lost their wives, the families out for dinner, the younger crowd out for a drink after a day on their own farm… the same people in the same bar, waiting for the same show…

Oh! As I scan my eyes I spot a brand new face. Any new people stand out a mile, but this guy is particularly attention grabbing. Not only is he tall, dark, and very handsome, he’s in a crisp business suit that doesn’t belong here. It makes him look a big city business man which we just don’t get here. Something about this new, exciting person causes a thrilling bolt to race through my system. I haven’t had anyone to be interested in for a very long time, so this is fun. I can almost feel my cheeks heating up as he stares into my soul.

“Right everyone,” I say into the microphone with a bit of a stammer. He’s making me nervous, even though I don’t know him at all. It has to just be his new face. “It’s good to see you all again.” Someone whoops. “Thank you, Lenny,” I say gratefully, especially because it breaks the ice and makes me feel a little less uncomfortable. “It’s good to see you all again, I appreciate your support as always. So here we go.”

I take my seat and glance down at my guitar, trying to lose myself in the music. Usually I’m fully immersed, this is my only form of escapism, but today I have something else that wants my attention and I desperately want to see him again.

But I can’t. I need to focus. I can’t let this stranger distract me.

My shaking fingers move over to the guitar strings and I suck in a few deep breaths to calm myself down before I begin playing. The last thing I want to do is make a fool out of myself in front of this awesome new person. Just because he’s new, I want him to like me.

“A midnight stroll,” I finally burst into song. There’s a bit of a tremble in my voice, but I quickly get over it as I delve into the country song that I wrote a long time ago when I was a lot happier and more content. “And I’m only with you. Your hand in mine”

Singing a love song is hard when I’ve been single for so long. As I’m writing I remember the thrilling sensation of falling deeply for someone, but the rest of the time I’m numb to it all. It’s just something that I’ve given up on for the time being. I’m sure the time will come around when I feel like I need to find someone again, but for now I’m okay just doing me.

But then my eyes drag upwards and I find him again. It’s like there’s a magnet between us, drawing me in. His eyes are only on me and he’s looking at me like I intrigue him, which is nice. I haven’t had anyone show me even a glance of interest, so this is incredibly exciting. I continue to sing, luckily I can do that on autopilot without thinking much, but my mind is all on him. He’s consuming me in every way possible.

Of course, being the dreamer that I am, my mind conducts a brand new fantasy. Only this one has absolutely nothing to do with my career. It’s more the sort of thing that would happen back stage, in the dressing room. My eyes fall closed as I picture me grabbing him and pulling him into my private room without even asking his name. I continue to sing as I think about what it would feel like to kiss him. It’s been so long since I’ve kissed someone who’s sparked such a passion inside of me. Since Rory, I’ve kissed a couple of frogs, but that’s been out of boredom than anything else and it’s never gotten any further.

I sing louder as I picture his hand slowly trailing up my leg. A shiver tears up and down my spine, as I almost feel him edging closer and closer. In my fantasy my head rolls to one side and my eyes fall closed. My breaths are desperate and needy as he roughly tugs my panties to one side. He takes me, he claims me, he has complete control of me and I’m more than happy to let him do so. This sexy stranger has me as putty in his hands and I love every second of it. I’m jelly, I’m a mess, and he’s making me feel this way.

I hope that I’m still performing well as I imagine the man at the bar spinning me around and slipping into me from behind. His fingers wrap around my hair and he pulls my head back towards him so he can kiss me all over the neck. I have to cross my legs underneath my guitar because I’m afraid that the obvious desire that I’m feeling inside will become clear o the audience, but that doesn’t stop my mind from reeling. The man at the bar sends me wild, he has my heart pumping faster, my lungs squeezed tightly and my body buzzing with sheer desire. I can almost feel myself driving towards the point of orgasm just from my crazy mind. It’s insane and something I cannot have happening while I’m in front of so many people. People I’ve known my entire life. That’s wrong on so many levels.

I really need to get laid. Either that or I need some time alone so I can touch myself. Maybe once I’ve finished this set I’ll race off to the bathroom for some ‘alone time’.

Once I glance up again, I meet his eyes once more and judging by the way he’s biting down on his bottom lip he can see the thoughts racing through my mind. My entire body heats up, like a fire has been lit inside my belly. In his eyes, there’s a cheekiness there, which makes me wonder if he’s thinking something similar. I wonder if he’s imagining thrusting into me from behind, just like I am him. I wonder if he’s imagining what my body will feel like. I want him to be, in all honesty, I want to feel desirable.

Then again, he probably isn’t. He doesn’t look like the sort of desperate freak that I am. He is absolutely, overtly gorgeous and obviously he comes from somewhere else where there are probably women in their hundreds. He probably gets laid all the time. He’s probably got a girlfriend or a wife and hundreds of lovers too. I’m just a random red haired girl from the middle of nowhere. There’s no way I’m pretty enough for him.

I fix my eyes on the guitar and try to concentrate. I need to lose the fantasy, but I can still feel it there inside me, swirling through my whole body. I haven’t realized how much I’ve missed a man’s touch until this very moment, now I’m craving it desperately like a drug addict who needs a fix. If I could, if I didn’t think it would make me the craziest woman alive, I would run across this bar and jump into his arms. I’d let him hold me until he got absolutely sick of me, but of course I can’t do that.

I have to behave.

I need to sing, that’s what I’m here for. He’s just a fleeting thing, this singing gig is my permanent.