Limerence (11 page)

The drive back home through the forest is wonderful—much better than the drive out. The uncomfortable air between us has shifted; things seem to be going back to normal. Oliver seems to be more of his usual charming, happy self. It’s refreshing after such an intense week, although he still hasn’t relaxed completely and he hasn’t let me out of his sight all day.

We ate on the beach, talked, and splashed in the sea—even though it was freezing. For the first time in what seems like forever, we had fun together.

I haven’t thought of
him
all day, and it’s only now as we’re getting closer to home that his face flashes into my mind again. I shake him from my thoughts and turn to look at Oliver; his face seems relaxed and carefree. His crooked lazy smile is back, and the dimple in his left cheek showing. He looks over at me, his face thoughtful. He reaches his hand across to me, his fingers gently tracing the outline of my face. I smile at him.

His puppy dog eyes are soft with affection as I reach across and squeeze his leg, reciprocating his feelings. Things are getting back to how they should be, just Oliver and me against the world. I sigh, content in my happy little bubble, as we pull into the garage below our apartment.

We are finally getting to meet Will, Caitlyn’s boyfriend, tonight and I’m excited. She’s never introduced us to any of her boyfriends before; she’s never been serious enough with any of them. Caitlyn is my slightly older sister. Older by two years, younger in maturity by about five. She was blonde the last time I saw her. She is beautiful, graceful, fashionable, and a little bit prudish: the total opposite of me. I love her to death.

Rachael is nowhere to be seen when we let ourselves into the apartment. Not even a note. It stings when she blocks me out, no matter how many times she does this. She pushes her problems on to me, like I had something to do with it, as if I’m the one to blame. I know that she’ll come around; it’s just a matter of time, but it still hurts.

We shower and begin to dress. I pull on some tight black jeans and a silky, low-cut, bottle-green top. I plan to seduce Oliver tonight, to finish off what has been a fantastic day together
.
A low cut top is essential for the seduction process, I think with a giggle.

“What are you laughing at?”

I look at Oliver; the buttons on his shirt are open, revealing his firm chest and toned stomach. It’s strong and defined, with a small splashing of curls running around each nipple and up the middle. He is bronzed and buff and he locks his gaze on to mine and gives me a crooked knowing grin.

“Well?” He saunters over to where I stand. “What are you laughing at?”

His eyes drink me in, and he tips his head to my throat and slowly plants soft kisses from one earlobe to the other.

“I was just thinking…” I exhale as his hand moves round to my behind and cups my buttocks, giving them a squeeze. “I erm…I…”

“I was thinking…wondering, really, what we could do to end such a lovely day on a high note,” I purr.

His hands move around to hold my waist as he looks at me brazenly. He pushes me backwards slowly until the back of my calves find the end of the bed, and he lays me down on it.

“I’ve got one or two ideas.” He looks down at me, slipping his shirt back off his shoulders with a smile. My blood heats, my body hungry for his touch.

I smile and lick my lips, my fingers trailing down his abdomen to unbutton his jeans. Oliver presses his lips to my mouth, his tongue dancing over mine. His hands grip my hair and I moan and wrap my leg around his waist, running my nails up and down his back. He hisses between clenched teeth and paws at my breasts, pulling my bra down to free them.

I close my eyes as pleasure rolls through me from his touch. My hands find his hair as his kisses go lower.

*

The Red Room is loud and bustling when we arrive, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. I’m supposed to be sticking to Coke tonight after last night’s disaster. However, my hangover seems almost nonexistent, and Caitlyn is insistent.

We sit encapsulated in our booth by the stage, listening to the musicians play. It’s open mic night and the place is heaving. We were lucky to grab this booth when we did.

The second act of the night has just finished: two brothers singing and playing guitars together. They were good; I haven’t heard them before.

“So what do you do, Will?” I hear Oliver ask from the side of me. He hasn’t kept his hands off me all night, and right now his arm is resting along the back of the booth behind me. One finger lazily strokes the back of my neck.

“I’m a graphic designer, at the magazine.” Will turns to smile at Caitlyn and she reciprocates almost too eagerly. “That’s how we met, actually. She came to me one day looking for the perfect picture to go with her article.”

Will takes a sip of his beer. His hair is cropped and styled around his face. He’s handsome in an unconventional way. I can see why she likes him, though he’s not her usual type. He appears confident in his own skin, wearing his own style of clothing instead of the usual designer brands, which normally lure Caitlyn in.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t help me,” Caitlyn pouts.

“As I said at the time, the article sounded awful, and I didn’t have time to go searching the archives or editing something up for you.” He kisses her on the cheek.

“But you
did
make time. Didn’t you, babe?” she adds smugly.

I laugh. “She can be very persuasive when she wants to be, can’t she?” I lift my beer bottle up with a shake, to emphasize my point.

He laughs. “Oh, yes.” They look at each other and smile at a secret joke.

The next act is up; it’s a middle-aged woman with short hair. She comes on to the stage with a shy wave and introduces herself to the crowd. She sings a country style song and receives a warm round of applause when she’s finished. I clap along with everyone, and when she’s finished I stand to go the bathroom.

“I’ll walk with you.” Oliver stands. “I’m going to get another drink on the way back.” He looks to Caitlyn and Will. “Do you guys want anything?”

They both nod and we squeeze out of the booth. I head to the toilet, with Ollie trailing after me. He’s been like this all night, I realise—never leaving my side. It’s endearing, especially after feeling so distant with each other all week.

“Mia? Oliver?” We turn to see Danny, one of the bar’s event organisers coming towards us. He greets us and we all hug and shake hands.

“Hey you two, I’m so glad that you’re here. I’ve got a favour to ask.” He looks sheepish as he continues. “I’ve got a spot just opened up for tonight. Some young girl can’t,” he rolls his eyes, “or won’t go on. Stage fright! Can you believe it?”

The club gets a lot of that, and I am beginning to guess where this is going.

“Danny, we’re out with my sister and her partner, I can’t. Sorry, honey. Anyway I thought this place had contingencies in place?”

“Yes, but our contingency is away on holiday. So now you are our contingency!” He looks hopeful. “Come on, just one song—or two, preferably two. Please? Free drinks are on offer if you do.” Looking from Oliver to me, he holds his hands in mock prayer.

“What do you think, Ollie?”

“Sure, babe, we can do it if you want to. We could do a couple of the songs we were going to do from our set at the end of the month. Just have to shuffle things around a touch for that show.” His face goes distant when he talks over the set that we we’re due to perform in a couple of weeks, and I wonder why.

“When are we up?” I beam.

Twenty minutes later and we are on. It’s not going to be my best performance; my vomiting last night has ruined that chance. But hey, it’s late on at the end of the evening, so I’m not too worried.

I step up to the stage, my heart thumping manically, and I grab for Oliver’s hand. It doesn’t matter how many times I get up and do this, it still terrifies me. Those first few seconds when the music kicks in, just before I open my mouth to sing, and all eyes are on me. All I can think is,
what if my voice cracks on the first note
?

Oliver squeezes my hand in his, and I glance back to him. He gives me a reassuring smile, his dimple tugging in, and I relax somewhat.

Oliver takes his seat on his stool, pulling a borrowed guitar into his lap. It’s a beauty. He runs his fingers over it as he gets himself comfortable, and I step up to the microphone. The lights are bright and hot; it’s hard to make out many people. I look to where our table is and see Caitlyn and Will snuggled up together. Oh, how I want to be out there right now and not up here. I hate and love this feeling all at the same time. The emotions after you have performed are unparalleled to anything else, but the emotions before are horrible.

I look at Oliver. Our eyes connect and I breathe out slowly, feeling myself calming under his steady gaze.

“Hi out there, I hope you’re having a good night.” I give a brief wave. “Sorry for the change-up of acts tonight, but I hope it won’t be too much of a disappointment for you. My name’s Mia and that gorgeous hunk of a man over there,” I point to Oliver, who grimaces but smiles, “is my wonderful fiancé, Oliver.”

I feel so proud to be performing with him It’s the same feeling I get every time we do this together. The nerves eat away at me, but when we make music together, it’s like all the pieces of our jigsaw come together. Everything in my world seems right and in its place.

“Tonight we are going to sing you a few bluesy numbers, but we’re gonna start with a song that is really special to both of us. It’s a song that not many people have heard, or you may have heard it but have no idea who it’s by. It’s the first song that we ever danced to. The song we fell in love to.” I turn and smile at Oliver again, a warm feeling rushing over me. Despite my nerves, it is time to get this show on the road.

“I give you: Nina Carray’s—
Flames
.”

Oliver comes in with his part on the guitar and the music flows from the speakers. I open my mouth, take a steadying breath, close my eyes, and let the words flow…

“Take a breath, know my face, know my smile, know my soul . . .”

My hips sway to the rhythm.

“ . . . I’m all for you…”

I open my eyes and am lost in a sea of heat. The lights focus on Oliver and me, the rest of the room darker. I feel so warm under the bright spotlight.

“ . . . feel my lips, see my face, hear my words and know that I’m… all for you…”

My hair falls around my shoulders and I swipe it away and across to one side. My lips touch the cool metal of the microphone…

“ . . . it’s only you that can break out my frozen heart, release me from my shackles. Now you know that I’m forever yours . . .”

This is our song.

This is our love.

This is for us.

She makes her way warily to the steps of the stage, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. Her eyes are as big as a doe’s caught in the bright headlights of a car. She pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks around frantically for something. Finally, her eyes rest upon it, and she seems to calm.

She makes her way cautiously up the small steps, as if there are a hundred, and not just three of them. She stands at the front, holding the microphone closely to her, as if for protection, and clears her throat. It echoes loudly around the noisy room.

She speaks. Her voice is like cream, pouring so smoothly from her rosy lips. Her laugh sends a tingle down my spine. She blushes and smiles, so happy, so beautiful.

Looking to the left to signal for the music to start, she takes a deep, shaky breath and begins. The music comes in first and then Mia:

“Take a breath, know my face, know my smile, know my soul . . .”

Her voice drifts out towards me like the hands of a ghost. Gentle fingers search me out, yearning to hold me and caress me. A wave of calm washes over my fractured heart as her words reach me, clasping hold of every inch of my being. Her words wrap around me, intertwining with my body, singing to me and calming me in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. The blood that raced through my system, the very foundations of my pain and hunger, slows. The fire finally relinquishing control and ebbing away, with relief I lean against the wall.

Her eyes are closed self-consciously, and she poises herself closer to the microphone to sing deeper. Her plump, heart-shaped lips gently press against the cool metal shape of the microphone. The words escape her, betraying her emotions to everyone listening.

“ . . . I’m all for you…”

Her voice is soft and throaty but peppered with her anguish. Every set of eyes are on her as she sings in tune with my heart. The tenderness of the moment is so pure that people have stopped their endless chatter. Just to listen to her. To my beautiful Mia.

They are obviously so taken aback by the feelings that are evident in her voice whilst she sings. Sings to me.

She holds the microphone steady on its stand with both hands, letting the soft waves of her dark hair fall carelessly around her face, framing it as if it were a picture. A picture of angelic beauty. She’s swaying side to side, all sense of her surroundings gone as she is so lost in the music.

. . . feel my lips, see my face, hear my words and know that I’m…all for you…”

Finally, blissfully, her eyes open, as if searching me out of my hiding place. They fall across everyone but the one she is searching for, and she flutters them closed in the torment of the moment, her voice faltering a heartbeat. It’s unrecognisable to anyone else, but not to me. I want to run to her, to shout out her name and fall to my knees before her. She looks so beautiful up there under the spotlight. How I long to touch her skin and feel her warmth next to me.

She is singing to me; I can feel her yearning for me as she delivers the final chorus…

“ . . . it’s only you that can break out my frozen heart, release me from my shackles. Now you know that I’m forever yours . . .”

There is silence for a few seconds as her voice trails off into a whisper. Then the applause begins. It erupts in a loud chorus from the front of the room, echoing around to the back to reach everyone. She opens her eyes and smiles, beautifying the moment even more.

That song. Those words. I am coming for you, Mia.

I feel it too.