Chapter Six
Tristan
Brooke clutched onto me as I weaved the bike in and out of traffic. I figured she’d ever been on a bike before. Then again, being on a bike in a small town in Ohio would be a different world than being on one in L.A. on I-405. I’d found out with girls that a motorcycle ride on the freeway could go one of two ways: they hate it and never want to see you or your bike again or it turns them on and they are like sex machines afterwards. When we made it back to my place, she jumped off with a huge grin on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool wind and she said, “That was amazing!” She was breathing hard. She was ready for sex.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” I said. I bypassed the elevator and took the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor. It took Brooke a minute to catch up with me and she was even more winded when she did.
“No wonder you’re in such good shape,” she said. I was surer by the minute that I was going to get to tap that ass before the night was over. I unlocked the door to the apartment and watched her look around. Unless I brought them home already high or aching for it, it was always the same. They’d look around, shocked at the way I live. The truth was I didn’t give a fuck what they thought. She could stay or go; I’d find another one in a heartbeat. While she was adjusting to her surroundings, I went over to the cabinet and took out my box of weed. I stuffed the bong and I could see her watching me out of the corner of my eye as I did.
“You smoke?” I asked her.
She hesitated, but only for a second and then she said, “Yeah, sure.” I raked the shit off the couch and said,
“Have a seat.” I lit the bong, and sucked a long hit into my lungs.
I handed it to Brooke then and held the lighter on it while she took her hit. As soon as it hit her lungs she had a coughing fit. When she finished she said, “Sorry, I’ve never used a pipe before.”
“That’s cool,” I told her.
“Can I ask you something?” she said. Fuck, here we go. I went about taking my turn with the bong and didn’t answer her. Typical fucking woman, she didn’t wait for one. She said, “What’s the deal with that girl in the bar? She works for the show, right? She’s one of the interns or something.”
“It’s nothing. Not even worth talking about,” I told her.
She let it go for minute and said, “Do you have your song ready for next week yet?”
I told her what I was singing and then said, “I still have some work to do to it though. I never just sing it the way it is written. What about you?”
“Yeah,” she said with a smile, “I’m doing a Tricia Yearwood song.”
“Country? Trying to get on the good side of the country star?” I kid her.
“No,” she said, “It’s more of a soft rock song. I think I might even have them pick up the tempo on it a little. I have a lot of work to do between now and then on it. I want to win this so badly that I can taste it.”
I took another hit. I did too, but I wasn’t planning on sharing that with her. I handed her the bong, but instead of putting it to her lips she said, “That girl…Elly, are you sleeping with her?”
“What difference does it make? The answer is no, but what the fuck difference does it make?”
“It would just be weird, Tristan…if we slept together and that girl really liked you and I had to see her all the time until this show was over. Besides, aren’t there rules against that? Couldn’t you both get in trouble?”
“I’m not sleeping with her, Brooke. She’s got a thing for me. She’ll get over it. Let it go!”
She didn’t let it go and it was pissing me off.
“She seemed like she really liked you,” she said. “I could see it on her face. She was hurt to see us together. You may not have slept with her, but she wants to, Tristan.”
I stood up, angry. “Fuck! Did you come over here to advocate for her or what? I don’t want to talk about Elly. I want to fuck you. Isn’t that what you came here for, Brooke?” I was staring into her eyes. I could tell that she was torn. She wanted to stay, but her conscience was tugging at her to leave. I really didn’t give a fuck either way. In about two seconds, I was going to make the choice for her and show her to door. Suddenly, she made up her mind…I guess. She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. Before I knew it, her tongue was tangling up with mine and my hands were sliding up her sides and finally getting a hold of that amazing rack. I could feel her hard nipples pressing through her clothes into my hand. Her nipples felt big and I couldn’t wait to get my lips around them. I started working her shirt up and her hands were on my belt when my fucking phone started ringing.
She stopped what she was doing, “Do you need to get that?” she asked me.
“No, ignore it, it’ll stop.” After about five rings, it went to voicemail. I had my hands underneath her shirt, on warm skin and she was just getting warmed back up. I was working on the latch for her bra when the phone started ringing again.
“Shit!” I broke the kiss and took a hand out of her shirt and reached for it; it was Elly. “Fuck!”
I pulled back away from Brooke and pushed the button for voicemail. I waited a few seconds and I heard Elly say, “Tristan, please do me this one favor: don’t make the mistake of sleeping with Brooke until we have a chance to talk. I really need to talk to you. Please don’t sleep with her.” I could hear a little catch in her voice. I don’t know if it was nerves or if she was sad.
Suddenly my hard-on was gone and I had no desire to fuck Brooke any longer.
I put down the phone and told Brooke, “I think you should go.”
“What? Why? Is this about Elly? I really hope you’re not risking a million dollars and a record contract for her. I mean, she’d have to be like the world’s best piece of ass.”
Close. “It’s none of your business, Brooke. I want you to go.”
“Tristan…”
“Go home, okay? Fuck!” She grabbed her purse and stormed out, pissed off. I didn’t give a shit. She’d get over it. At least she could feel better about the fact that she didn’t sleep with me before I kicked her out.
I picked up the phone and looked at it again. I considered calling Elly just to see what the fuck was so important. I decided that I didn’t want to hear it. It was probably just babble about me being with Brooke. That was none of her fucking business. I failed to see why people had such a hard time minding their own shit and staying out of mine. Whatever the fuck she wanted to say, she should have said it the last week, after she finished getting me off.
I got up and packed the pipe again and got a beer out of the fridge. I turned on some music and spent the rest of the evening getting high. Women were too much fucking trouble sometimes.