Love Lust (10 page)

My eyes stung. I fought to steady my choked breathing. To calm the riot in my chest.

He tugged on his jeans, zipped them and shoved his hands into the pockets. They hung low, showing off the deep ridge of each hip muscle tapering down. “And then there’s part of me screaming that I’ll regret not saying something.”

Justin came to me. He cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Maybe I don’t have to tell you.”

He didn’t. I could feel it, too. I could sense it in the change of my hunger, the nature of my repletion. The way I suddenly felt whole, even if temporarily.

How was I supposed to keep this? Fate was a cruel, bitter cunt. A relationship with a regular guy challenged me enough. I could only imagine how much more difficult fame would make love. Then factor in what Dr. Santos had theorized. Impossible.

Completely impossible. Love plus honesty.

How could I ever tell him what I am? I love you and by the way, I also feed off of you like a sexual leech. Oh, no, not crazy. Prove it? Uh, yeah, can’t. Sorry.

I put my clothes on. I needed to get out of there. I needed to think.

“We’re driving back today,” I said.

Justin nodded. “I have a flight out to L.A. tonight.”

“Fly safe, I guess,” I said.

He pulled me close and kissed me hard. “Not goodbye, okay? Not yet. Okay? If I only get days or weeks. I’ll take it. You know that, right?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew there’d be so much hope and love shining in them that I’d tip off the precipice and into his arms, a love-lost fool. A succubus couldn’t run pell mell into the oblivion. Paula had shown me that many times over. Justin could so easily be my overdose.

I hugged him tight instead, nodding, memorizing his scent and the feel of his arms around me. Then I left. I could feel him watching me from the open door as I made my way down stairs that blurred from fat, popping tears.

Paula was still in the car, chatting on her phone. Thank God, I still had her. And always would. She hung up and squeezed my knee, but didn’t ask. I blew my nose as she hit the freeway. My phone rang.

I picked it up, clearing my throat. Justin’s name wasn’t what showed on my screen, though. Seth’s did.

Chapter Ten

“Maybe we should get matching tattoos to commemorate the occasion,” Paula said.

“To commemorate what, exactly?” I said, breaking my three-hour silence.

“The trip. Progress.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to call it progress.” Part of me suspected she was needling out what was really going on. Not talking wasn’t helping, though. If succubus was part science, why the whole glow thing? Why was love part of my curse? How was getting more information we couldn’t do anything with progress? What if this was like some sort of HIV and couldn’t be cured? If we were a sort of energy vampires, were there other breeds of it? Fear suckers? Hate suckers? I’d thought myself into circles and only felt more sick and fearful.

“Of course it’s progress. We found the doctor, he knew what we were, has studied succubus or succubi or whatever we’re called. I mean, a regular doctor would call us crazy and send us to sex rehab.”

I had mixed feelings about the sign we passed. Las Vegas 58 miles. “He didn’t tell us anything new.”

“He confirmed what we already knew, though, and has theories. I don’t understand reciprocity, but he does.”

“There’s more than one
theory?”

“Well, maybe. He’s working on the quantum physics of the whatever. He’ll keep us posted.”

“When did you—oh. Never mind.” I should have realized Paula had fed on Dr. Santos. The signs of intimacy had been there. And Paula hadn’t complained once about hunger.

“And don’t forget, too, you found Justin.”

“He’s a rock star.”

“And he’s a rock star. Excellent. See? Progress. I wonder if there’s a cool Chinese symbol we could use. I was thinking on opposite hips so that we—“

“No. I mean, he’s actually a rock star. Or will be. He has a record deal and a song on the radio and everything.”

Paula’s mouth hung open. “Oh. Wow.”

I jogged my eyebrows up. “Yeah.”

She twitched her mouth side to side. “Okay. Another great reason. What do you think? Chinese symbol?”

“I think I have nothing to commemorate, Paula. That’s what I think.”

“You know what, Liv? I’m done. Either spit it out and tell me what the hell is going on with you or go back to the silent treatment. As far as I can tell, you have zero to pout about.”

“Zero? Are you kidding me? You seem to be forgetting that my particular bent of this curse needs love. And that love will eventually enslave the person I love. So, I have to go in every time knowing I will have to hurt them. I will have to leave. I don’t want to love Justin. And him about to be famous only makes it that much clearer.”

“That’s completely insane. Why does his occupation have anything to do with it?”

“Because it reminds me of Jimi and when he first turned me. The chaos, the celebrity lifestyle. I hated it. I don’t want to be under a public microscope because I’m with him.”

“That was Jimi, and being the head incubus doesn’t equate to being a rock star, Liv. Try again. It’s that he isn’t safe. Remember Seth? Remember how scared you were to care about Seth? And then you end up breaking his heart, anyway.”

“This isn’t like with Seth, alright? And Seth will be okay. Seth will land back on his feet. His humiliation factor is nothing compared to someone who will be world famous.” I crossed my arms. “Get it?”

Paula shut her mouth for a moment. “I get that you’re scared. But when you allow yourself to really figure out why, I think you’ll see that a song on the radio has nothing to do with it.” She rolled down her window. The wind whipped my hair around. “You should have seen the way he looked at you. Justin’s nuts about you. Alejandro said real love is rare. What most of us experience is infatuation, chemicals that feel a lot like love.”

But aren’t. Reaffirming as it was of my own theory or not, her sleeping with Dr. Santos—Alejandro—diminished his already shaky credibility in my eyes. Shouldn’t matter. Paula’s needs were just as important as mine and who cared who fed her, right? “Real love takes time. I don’t even know Justin’s middle name. That’s how much conversation we’ve had. That’s not love.”

She sighed heavily. “Well, seeing Seth again won’t help matters. I think it’s a bad idea, Liv.”

Said the expert of bad ideas. “Yes, well, I’m going to see Seth, anyway.” My heart ached and my craving for more Justin would soon set its claws in me. “I know how to be careful.” With my lust, as well as with Seth’s heart.

Rainbow strobes and black lights lit the bowling lanes. Eighties rock music pumped out the speakers. I hummed along to “Cherry Pie” by Warrant, filtering above the ring of pins and balls and gutter. I remembered carefree days from when foreplay tactics and ruling the dating game didn’t dictate my life.

Spotting a sliver of normal lighting, I headed to the bar where Seth agreed to meet me, missing Justin more than words could say. He hadn’t called. Ten long days and nights and he hadn’t called me.

Of course, neither had I. I’d googled him, youtubed him, found out his last name. Sharpe. My lust remained in content lassitude from our last encounter. My heart did not. It worried.

I spotted Seth right away. His smile sent a ripple down my belly.

He stood from the stool and embraced me into a bear hug. How could Alejandro claim I’d never loved before? Even now, Seth made my chest squeeze in adoration.

Not like Justin did. Nothing like he did, really, but everyone I loved affected me differently. Even Paula had admitted as much once she stopped insisting Alejandro was right.

“You look amazing,” Seth said, releasing me so I could join him at the bar.

We ordered beers. “How’ve you been?” I took in the familiar features of his face. He looked pretty amazing, too.

“Good, actually. Don’t take this wrong, but being single has been good for me.”

“It shows. And don’t worry, I’m not insulted.”

He grinned sheepishly.

“Hurt. Wronged. But, not insulted.”

He chuckled. “So, what’s new? Or should I say, who?”

My chest panged. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You aren’t the kind of girl who stays single for long, Liv.”

“I’m not?” I took a swig off my beer, batting my eyelashes. “Okay, okay. So, I’m not.” But I didn’t think he really wanted to know. And to be honest, I wasn’t certain what the answer was. I’d taken to a wait and see as to how violently my body ended up needing Justin.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to actually tell me.” He winked at me. “I can see whoever he is, he’s giving you something I never could.”

“Seth, you gave me plenty.” Reliable, consistent attention I wished I could still count on.

“I know. I’m not saying anything like that.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. His hands glowed in amber.

That look, that glow, reminded me of when we first met. Which reminded me of how he kissed. Seth was an outstanding kisser. I uncrossed my legs, leaned forward to give him a better look down my shirt. “Hey, want to see my tattoo?”

“Tattoo? Sure.”

I stood up, teased my jeans open and revealed the newly inked butterfly on my hip. Seth traced a finger over the pink and violet wings.

“Very sexy,” he said. He took his hand away fast. As though touching me burned.

I let my hands linger at my zipper, drawing his eyes to my fuchsia lace panties. He tore his gaze away. Disappointed, despite knowing I couldn’t take any flirting far, I sat back down. “It was Paula’s idea. Symbolizes metamorphosis.”

He picked at the label on his bottle. “Not flitting away?”

I winced. “That bad, huh?”

“No. Not bad. Just you being you. You know, from the very start, every day seemed like you were preparing yourself to tell me goodbye. When it finally came….”

“I’m sorry, Seth,” I said, hating what I was. How could I do this to Justin? Justin who did wild things to my heart like no one ever had. Justin, who I wanted to call. Who I wanted banging down my door, demanding I choose him, forcing me to risk it all.

Why was he leaving it up to me?

“Hey, none of that. That’s not why I asked you out.” He socked me softly in the shoulder.

I gulped back the ache. “Oh? Why then? Hard up?” I couldn’t not flirt.

“No.” His eyes met mine and I saw it before he said it. “I met someone.”

My mouth opened, but I didn’t quite have the words. “Wow. That’s…that’s….”

“Fast. I know. But she’s incredible. And if it’s weird that I’m telling you, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to run into us or hear something third-hand. I guess I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“No, yeah, sure. It’s wonderful, Seth. I’m happy for you. And thank you for telling me. I mean, I wish it could have been me, but I’m also glad that we can not hate each other, too.”

“Exactly.” His smile glowed almost as much as his eyes. “I never believed in that kind of thing. How can you meet someone new, and suddenly be so happy, right in the middle of a broken heart? No offense.”

“None taken.” It hurt nonetheless. Yet, I was honestly happy for him, too. I suddenly, intensely wished I’d rolled the dice and told Justin everything. I wished I’d told him I loved him. I wished I hadn’t run. “So,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “When do I get to meet her?”

Chapter Eleven

I tossed my cell phone onto the Hobby Lobby break room table and put my hands on my face. Justin’s phone number no longer worked. My heart swam in misery, I retrieved the phone, dialed it a tenth time to prove it to myself. Yep. Bad number. At some point in my remaining ten minutes of break, Opal gave my back a small rub and said something about this, too, passing.
This, too, would not pass. I needed him.

I loved him.

And I had no clue as to how to get a hold of him. Yellow pages had no rock star listing. Paula suggested I leave a comment on his MySpace. I’d settled for a not-so-easy-to-write email message. He’d yet to reply or call as I’d nearly begged him to.

I should have spelled it out in the email. But telling someone about love didn’t belong online. Not for the first time. Not when they might balk. But how would I get to him in person? The Java Jungle manager had no information. Neither did any Santa Fe radio station.

A part of me had started wondering if he existed. If it all hadn’t just been a dream. Then, in the middle of ringing up four bundles of yarn and a new set of knitting needles, my craving had awakened. No doubt remained. He was the one that I wanted. And I might die a slow painful death trying to get what I wanted. Beautiful.

“Liv, honey, why don’t you take off early today,” Vera said, two hours later, likely noticing the heavy sweat I had to keep mopping off my forehead. She gently took the candles I’d been stocking from my hands. “You look beat.”

I almost refused. Home held nothing but more anxiety, more waiting. More wondering how I could find him and if I had lost him.

Paula ended her phone call with a smooch sound as I trudged in our apartment door, wet from the rain and exhausted.