Plastic Confidence (Good Bye Trilogy #1) (6 page)

BOOK: Plastic Confidence (Good Bye Trilogy #1)
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I nodded
, making a
poor you
face at him, and grabbed the bottle of wine. With both the bottle and the glass clutched in a one handhold, I slinked into the bathroom and shut the door with the back of my foot.

As I filled up the tub and mixed the lavender bath oil with the water, I thought about how I didn’t miss Johnny at night. I enjoyed the peace. I had my fun
devoid of him. Being alone was calming. It was my time. I could write music and sing to myself without criticism or his voice joining in. I could watch “The Cosby Show” reruns and laugh at Dr. Huxtable’s idiotic jokes without Johnny stealing the remote and shouting obscenities at a Patriots game for an entire afternoon. I was my best friend. I was self-confident in my body around others and in those inaudible times that I made love to myself.

Thirty
minutes later, I heard another knock at the door. I glided out of the bathroom and yelled, “Damn it, Johnny. If you were going to leave, you should have... ” the rest of that sentence was cut off at the sight of Brennan Curtis leaning into the door jam. His large hands on both sides made me feel small and slightly unsteady. I faltered and tripped over my robe as I took him in. His dimpled smile was first. His leathery masculine smell was second. His animal, please come have sex with me, energy was next.

“Uh
... gah... hi,” I offered, trying to regain poise, and maybe relearn the English language.
What kind of douchebag hello was that?
Oh right, this guy made my hearing, speech, and brain to body synapses cease to work properly.

“Ugh, hi,” he
quipped, clearly mocking my lacking use of words. “How are you, Julia?”

His eyes
measured my body up and back down only to settle back onto my face to await my response. He was fascinating to look at. He was the actual tall, dark, and handsome man that all those books and fairy tales dreamed and screamed about. His tattooed sleeve made him less human, more of a super-god, and definitely mysterious. But I liked him. I liked him a lot.

“How
... or who let you... did you get up here?” I probed as I poked my head out the door frame to see that the hotel hallway was empty. On my retreat back inside the room, Brennan tilted his cheek just the most minuscule bit so that my damp hair could graze his cheek. I stilled, frozen in that spot. Yes. Please graze me. Graze away. The barbeque comment came back into my head and I pulled back. He was not a slice of meat. He was a sexy guy. No more animal references to the human body.

“Lizzie. Sean. Sean
... shit. Well, it was Lizzie,” Brennan puckered his brows. He was evidently having a disagreement with himself and I watched with fascination. I could watch Brennan argue with himself all night long. It was, to say the least, adorable.

I just nodded. “Okay. Great! What can I do for you?” I
requested sunnily. Why was I being fake plastic right now? Why did this guy unsettle me? If it had been anyone else at this hour, I would have probably verbally punched them in the face and sent them on their way to hell. Not Brennan, though. No, he did something to me that made me second guess the meaning of life entirely. He had a purpose in everything he did. There was something in the handshake, grazing my wet hair, and searching for who I was with his eye. He was a scientist who was compulsive to answer the equation of Jules Delaney. That was evident since he sought me out on stage, in the back room at the show, and now here, on a totally secured hotel floor. I decided to let him experiment away. What did I really have to lose?

It was then that Brennan’s face went from amusement to pure disappointment. I followed his gaze to my couch where Johnny was passed out cold.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I didn’t know. I thought... ” he began. I quickly shut him up. There was no way in hell that anyone would ever get the impression that I took Johnny back.

“Johnny and I aren’t together. I mean, y
es, he is here but he was drunk. Then I took a bath, while he… shit... that didn’t sound very good either, did it?”

I laughed
as I tried not to fuck up anymore words. What was it about this guy? He made me babble on, like a little school girl.
Unnerving
. He grinned back at me. It was a big goofy grin that made my damp legs a little too warm and I quickly tried to dry off the wetness with my robe, but to no avail. That was the only action that either of us made. I still had no idea why he was here and so we stood there staring at each other like fucking idiots. I didn’t know what the hell to do next.

I cleared my throat and waved him in with the hope that he would make his intentions clear behind the privacy of the door.

“Just... come in,” I finally said on an exhale. He was a human being. A fine human being but nonetheless, he was just a guy. I could have company. Johnny was company and we weren’t doing anything inappropriate. Nevertheless, where was the first place I drew him into?

I led
Brennan back to the bedroom because I might get to fuck him after all. I closed the door quietly, because obviously, I did not want to wake Johnny from his alcohol induced sleep. I was being considerate of Johnny. That was the story I was telling Brennan and myself.

EIGHT

 

Brennan
shadowed me into the big hotel bedroom and as he perused the room he rubbed the beanie off of his head. No flat hair head. In fact when he tore that beanie off, hair sprung to life. A plethora of black curls were shiny, thick, and wrapped around his striking face. I was immediately jealous of his no frizz hair. I spent so much money on products to preserve my straight hair. Some mornings, I had knots that were so bad that I could grow dreadlocks from them. Guys had it so good. Brennan’s hair was the epitome of perfect hair. I itched to run my fingers through those long locks.

I turned into his personal space and placed my hands on his chest. I noticed his
heart started to pump harder at my touch and he smiled softly, as he regarded my hands. He really liked my hands on him. Thank God.

“Why are you here, Brennan Curtis?” I seductively
probed. There could be only one reason why he was here. He wanted to bag the lead singer of LSP and I was ready to let him try. What he didn’t know was that my abilities would make him feel all of me on my own terms. Johnny reminded me only an hour ago just how good I was at taking care of a man.

Brennan looked into my eye
s with confusion taking over his pupils. He placed his hands on top of mine. He wasn’t giving off the horny vibe that I was used to. He was courteous and had better manners than the other guys. I didn’t understand why. I tried to get back into my sexual confident self, as he held my hands, and only my hands. He wasn’t touching me anywhere else. And w
hy the hell not?

“I think there is something special
here,” he said soundly, taking one hand off of mine to motion the space between us.

“Special, huh?”
I smirked, as I started to brush my lips against his. They radiated sweetness and inviting warmth. They were soft, but I could feel the trillion muscles in them as they started to flex upon my lips.

Holy shit.
The. Best. Kiss. Ever.

As I deepened the kiss,
Brennan’s lips were definitely special. The purposeful melding of them made me want more of his muscles. My hand found his abs and as I started to move lower, his hand firmly grabbed my fingers, and he took one full step back from me. I was left there with my lips still lingering into dead space and I was totally fucking confused. What the fuck just happened?

“What are you doing,
Julia?” Brennan asked taken aback.

“What are you doing, Brennan?” I asked, at the same time.
We both smiled in unison. I stepped up and brought my smiling lips back to graze his and hummed. He hummed back into mine and tingles dragged up and down my back. I wanted his hands there. I wanted his hands everywhere.

“Hmm
... I am doing what you wanted to do when you knocked on my hotel room. Lie down on the bed and let me show you how special we are together,” I smoothly cooed. I owned the seductive voice on the stage and in the bedroom. Perhaps, it was from all the voice lessons in college or the summer I took the undercover job at the phone sex company. All the callers wanted “Pony Girl”, which was the first thing that came out of my mouth when the owner asked me my call name. I even had a few female callers that loved to listen to me coo to them as they took care of their business.

Johnny never asked how we
managed to pay our bills with left over cash. He just expected that I would take care of it. When he did have money, he made sure to hand over half of what he had on him, even if it was just a twenty dollar bill. Johnny did contribute, but certainly not as much as the sixty year old in Idaho who said he imagined me riding him like a pony. Ugh, the thought of what I said for money was disgusting.

Brennan pushed back from me a little and shook his head slightly, looking down
at the ground with a frown overwhelming his beautiful face. Dark eyes, lush lips, beautiful straight chin, and dimples that made me want to lick again and again. This man was going to make me beg. Hell no, I never begged.


Did I say something?” I asked, incredulity bleeding from my body.

“I did not come here for sex
, Julia. I mean, I am attracted to you. God, I do want you, but I came here because I have a compulsion to be near you. Maybe I want to get to know you, or understand why I feel this... this pull towards you. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be in your presence. I know you feel it too... or am I all wrong here?”

Brennan was
nervous but the confidence he exuded when he spoke about me was palpable. He knew there was a magnet between us and yes, I did feel it too, but I couldn’t tell him that. I smiled inwardly at his declaration–his words about just wanting to be near me–as he ran his fingers through those silky black curls, I watched the way he moved with pure fascination.

Brennan
looked uncomfortable under my scrupulous and drawn out examination of him. I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to throw him a bone, the poor guy. A small smile on my face got his attention and I almost heard the moment when he exhaled the breath he was holding. I held out my hand in greeting.

“My name is
Julia Delaney. Friends and family call me Jules and strangers call me the singer from
that
band. I grew up in the state of New Hampshire. I tour with my band and I love to have sex. I would like to have sex with you,” I stated, looking his square in the eyes. “So, that’s it. I don’t have any hobbies. I don’t play sports. I don’t remember the last book I read, and I think my favorite movie was released five years ago, but I only saw it once.”

I waited for him to say something about himself
, about what I admitted to, or just anything at all. He watched me in amusement as I started to twirl my hair.


What was your first concert?” he asked softly. He had his easy composure back. His heart wasn’t thumping as badly through the pretty shirt he’s wearing. His eyes, however, still burned fire into mine and my stomach clenched.

I felt like he was
poking at the secret insides of me, that no one ever dared to touch. My heart? My soul? Did I have those? No, my heart is solid rock and so is my band. It has been my mantra for years. But... with Brennan? It didn’t feel truthful to chant the mantra with him around. He was poking at my plastic shield just with his eyes. It was unnerving, threatening, and I was going to get out of this exchange with my shield intact.

“What the fuck are you talking about?
My first concert? Really?” I spat out with incredulity. That was what magazines asked, not guys who wanted to really know me as a person. Brennan smiled easily at my attempt to be forceful and in control. His look kicked my fear down a notch and I was excited to see what happened between us next.


Julia, what was the first concert you ever
went
to–not played at,” he probed. He came closer to take my hand into his. It was like sticking my hand into a warm bowl of bread dough. His hand secured mine and the rest of my body despised my hand in that moment. Shit, now my body was arguing with itself.


Lollapalooza,” I said, in a rush because I still really didn’t want to talk. I wanted to feel the soft comfort of Brennan’s whole body melted around me, thrusting into me.

He nodded his head and took my other hand, intertwining our fingers as he looked down at them in wonder. “Good
show, I went to that festival, too.” he confirmed.

I nodded
absentmindedly while I watched his face. It was lovely. I already knew his different expressions from our ten minutes together. His wondrous look. His offended look. His patient look. His look of... was that adoration? For me?


Which band did you like the most?” he asked me. I pondered that for a moment and tried to remember the lineup. I nodded slowly as memories started to rush back to me. I was in the ninth grade and I was dating a boy, whose name has slipped my mind now. I squeezed my eyes for the name.

Nate, Nathan
Williams.

It was our second
date; he had bribed me with the tickets, so he was motivated to make it past the first two bases. I watched Billy Corgan and The Smashing Pumpkins with rapt attention, while Nate successfully got his hand down the front of my jeans. I didn’t care. We sat off on the side of the lawn and had a great view of the stage. He made it under my panties to play with me, but I was too entranced with Billy to notice. When they had ended their set and we all starting clapping, Nate pulled his hand out of my pants and cleaned himself up. He smiled and kissed me on the cheek, like I was the best date ever.

Now that I think about
Nate, I am revolted at his behavior. At my own ambivalence! What the fuck was I thinking? Nevertheless, I do remember that night to be special for something completely different. That night might have changed my life.

That
was the night I decided that I wanted to be the female version of Billy Corgan and I craved to sing like nothing I had ever wanted before. The next day, I begged Kent incessantly to teach me everything he knew about the guitar. I played day and night. My fingers bled but I didn’t care.

I joined
the high school choir and was basically the only class that I attended on a regular basis. I just wanted to sing. The teacher was impressed, but gave me odd looks as she praised my improvement. I imagined she heard stories in the teacher’s lounge. The gossip was full of “what Jules Delaney had done that day in class” talk. But in choir sessions, I was attentive and I was granted a solo at nearly every high school performance.

“Why are you smiling,
Julia?” Brennan asked softly. He cocked his head to the side in disbelief. I don’t think he had ever seen me smile before, because he stared at my mouth and then my eyes, only to smile right back.


Billy Corgan,” I declared. “You know him? He is the lead singer of Smashing Pumpkins? It was
that
guy that made me the person I am today. He is the whole reason I am a musician and the lead singer of a killer rock band. We are
incendiary
because of him.” I smirked.

Brennan
nodded his head with an appreciative grin. I waited for him to say something about how dumb that was. What was he thinking about me? It couldn’t be good. I had ditched him, jumped him, spaced out on him, and then shared where my inspiration came from–a forty-five minute concert.


You know, one person can’t turn someone into the lead singer of a popular rock band. You might have been motivated to learn but y
ou
actually did all the work when you learned to sing and play the guitar. It came from a deep place inside of you, Julia. Don’t ever give credit to anyone or anything else. It is all you.” He kissed the back of my left hand, and then looked up at me as he blew a black curl from his right eye. It was so sexy and I wanted him... badly.

I
couldn’t accept his compliment about it being all me and shit. I didn’t accept any compliments about my work because I simply learned to play and sing. The rest of it was timing and who Dex and Johnny knew. Yes, there was a lot of pounding the pavement to market our band, but that didn’t feel like work to me. Music–this band–was my life. I didn’t know any other way to live.

“Thanks,” I said flatly. He smirked
at my lack of enthusiasm. Maybe one day I would look back on these years and find the pride.
Maybe
that would happen, but not likely.

Johnny’s voice boomed through the hotel suite.

“Jullliiaaa” he yelled once again, with the Rocky referenced tone.
Jesus Christ
. Johnny needed to leave. The door to my bedroom flew open. Within mere seconds, Johnny’s jaw dropped when he saw Brennan and my hands intertwined. Brennan’s hands squeezed mine, reminding me that he wanted to be there, with me.


So. Being a slut again, are we?” Johnny sneered. I felt Brennan’s posture tighten up at Johnny’s crude question, and I wearily looked at Johnny.

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny
, and go sleep it off. In your
own
hotel room.”

“And don’t you ever called her a slut again,” Brennan
warned.

Johnny stumbled back a little
, probably because of all the booze, and laughed. He bent over and bellowed out so hard, while Brennan and I gave each other random looks of apprehension. I felt the foreboding moment when I looked back at Johnny. He was about to destroy my chances with Brennan forever. It was the train wreck moment that people talked and wrote about. I saw the collision coming and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I prepared my shield for battle. Drunk Johnny always came out firing.

“She is a slut, man. She is damn proud of it, too. Aren’t
ya, Jules?” he sniggered.

I didn’t say anything because he was
spot on. Good one, Johnny. Shield was effectively up and strong. I let my head fall in a moment of humiliation and resolve. I let my hands slip away from Brennan’s. I closed my eyes, and exhaled my guilt, my shame, and my embarrassment out in one breath.

I
considered the scene, tried to find the best way to get out of it, and pointedly regarded both guys. Johnny was an automatic boot. Brennan was just a bad moment.

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