Sweet Temptation
Page 40
Thing is, I’ve been listening to Anna’s voice since she arrived at the club. Hearing her after several weeks has pumped me full of the angel voodoo that makes me go a bit insane. I even feel like smiling.
We take the stage and I look straight up, hungry for eye contact, but she’s not looking.
SHE’S NOT LOOKING.
I’m consumed by paranoia—is she over me so quickly? Has she fallen for another? Is she still mad at me? I shake my head at my own questions and grab my crotch to remind myself I’m a man. The goods are still there. I need to chill the hell out.
Her attention is on Jay as we start his song, and I force myself to focus on the drums. She’s being supportive of her best mate, ’cause that’s how she is. That’s all. I’m not going to look again.
During the brief guitar instrumental where I have to pause a measure, I totally look up again. This time she’s staring right at me. It’s as if the entire room goes silent and disappears. Her eyes are warm. It’s all still there between us.
Marna pulls her away just as it’s time for me to pick up in the song. I feel relieved enough to focus on the music now. Anna seems to be getting on well with the others. I lose myself in the next song, feeling a bit of enjoyment for the first time in weeks.
And then the song ends and I look up again, like a fool.
Anna and Kope are facing each other, leaning against the rail, looking bashful. I shoot my hearing up to them.
“. . . very much like to know your story,” Kopano is saying.
Oh, I bet he would like to know her “story.” On the outside, Kope is a smooth-talking picture of perfection, but I know what he’s like on the inside with his rare double curse. He’s bound by both lust and wrath. I’ll just bet he’s thinking he’s finally met his flawless match and he’d love to unleash all that withheld aggression on her.
When they stare at each other, standing far too close, and she doesn’t move away, I am overcome with deranged jealousy. Naturally she looks down at me at that very moment and I’m unable to school the expression from my face.
She sucks in a breath and looks down at her hands. My eyes move to Kopano as he looks at me, and I glare back. Disappointment seems to flash across his face as he catches my “back off” vibes.
That’s right, mate. Back. Off.
I’m all too keen to get to the party after the gig so I can stake my claim. Before I get out of my car I pull a fifth of Jack from under my seat and drink a healthy bit to hide any bond Marna and Ginger might see between Anna and me. It’s none of their business, and I don’t want to hear any ribbing.
I think of Anna’s voice mail as I approach the party, and I imagine her running up to me, throwing her arms around me.
But it doesn’t happen that way, does it? Girls run up to me, but none of them is Anna. I spot her through the crowd and what’s she doing? LEAVING THE ROOM WITH KOPE.
Bloody hell! The cheek of him!
I am wound tightly with fear and anxiety as the worst possibilities overcome me; did she come tonight, not to see me, but because the others forced her? Worst of all, is it possible she no longer loves me, and she fancies Kopano instead? After all, he’s everything I’m not. Would Kope plan a trip to seduce her, and then toss her off at the airport the moment things get heated?
No.
I don’t want to listen, but I feel compelled. I shove my hearing through the walls and hear Anna and Kope bantering, and then he’s telling her the story of how he abandoned his life as a Neph and got into Harvard.
God damn it, I feel ill. I need a drink.
I’m greeted at the kitchen counter by a platinum blond with a bottle of tequila. That’ll do the trick. The tequila, I mean. It’s loud in here. I glance through the crowd to see Anna hanging on Kope’s every word in his oh-so-charming African dialect. She glances up and sees me as I take the shot handed to me. Then she turns her back to me as if I mean nothing, and my vitals plummet.
I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I let myself care this much for someone. I should be glad she’s out of my hair. She can be Kope’s problem now, not mine, but I’m not glad at all. I’m so fucking sad it’s pathetic.
On the heels of my sadness comes anger, crashing through. I never would have expected Anna to be so fickle. To love me one week and forget about me just as quickly.
I’m going to need a bit more tequila.
“Mind if I take this for a moment, luv?” I ask the blond.
“Only if you promise to come talk to me later.” She smiles up at me.
I touch her chin and say, “Deal.” Then I grab the bottle, lime slices, and shot glasses, and head across the kitchen to where my mates are gathering with Anna and Kope. When I’m standing right next to her I’m struck again by a sensation of betrayal. She’s acting sweet and innocent here with Kope, but I’ve seen her high and desperate for more drugs. I’ve heard her begging me to keep going. I know her. I know her when she’s sweet and I know her when she’s salty. I notice the way her eyes dart to the bottle with longing, because unlike the others, I’m watching for it.
“Tequila, anyone?” I say to her.
She squirms uncomfortably as others call for drinks and I hand them out.
“Kope?” I say, because I haven’t forgotten how he ignored my warning to back off. “Anna?” I want to call them both out for pretending to be perfect when they’re just as fucked up as the rest of us.
We take the stage and I look straight up, hungry for eye contact, but she’s not looking.
SHE’S NOT LOOKING.
I’m consumed by paranoia—is she over me so quickly? Has she fallen for another? Is she still mad at me? I shake my head at my own questions and grab my crotch to remind myself I’m a man. The goods are still there. I need to chill the hell out.
Her attention is on Jay as we start his song, and I force myself to focus on the drums. She’s being supportive of her best mate, ’cause that’s how she is. That’s all. I’m not going to look again.
During the brief guitar instrumental where I have to pause a measure, I totally look up again. This time she’s staring right at me. It’s as if the entire room goes silent and disappears. Her eyes are warm. It’s all still there between us.
Marna pulls her away just as it’s time for me to pick up in the song. I feel relieved enough to focus on the music now. Anna seems to be getting on well with the others. I lose myself in the next song, feeling a bit of enjoyment for the first time in weeks.
And then the song ends and I look up again, like a fool.
Anna and Kope are facing each other, leaning against the rail, looking bashful. I shoot my hearing up to them.
“. . . very much like to know your story,” Kopano is saying.
Oh, I bet he would like to know her “story.” On the outside, Kope is a smooth-talking picture of perfection, but I know what he’s like on the inside with his rare double curse. He’s bound by both lust and wrath. I’ll just bet he’s thinking he’s finally met his flawless match and he’d love to unleash all that withheld aggression on her.
When they stare at each other, standing far too close, and she doesn’t move away, I am overcome with deranged jealousy. Naturally she looks down at me at that very moment and I’m unable to school the expression from my face.
She sucks in a breath and looks down at her hands. My eyes move to Kopano as he looks at me, and I glare back. Disappointment seems to flash across his face as he catches my “back off” vibes.
That’s right, mate. Back. Off.
I’m all too keen to get to the party after the gig so I can stake my claim. Before I get out of my car I pull a fifth of Jack from under my seat and drink a healthy bit to hide any bond Marna and Ginger might see between Anna and me. It’s none of their business, and I don’t want to hear any ribbing.
I think of Anna’s voice mail as I approach the party, and I imagine her running up to me, throwing her arms around me.
But it doesn’t happen that way, does it? Girls run up to me, but none of them is Anna. I spot her through the crowd and what’s she doing? LEAVING THE ROOM WITH KOPE.
Bloody hell! The cheek of him!
I am wound tightly with fear and anxiety as the worst possibilities overcome me; did she come tonight, not to see me, but because the others forced her? Worst of all, is it possible she no longer loves me, and she fancies Kopano instead? After all, he’s everything I’m not. Would Kope plan a trip to seduce her, and then toss her off at the airport the moment things get heated?
No.
I don’t want to listen, but I feel compelled. I shove my hearing through the walls and hear Anna and Kope bantering, and then he’s telling her the story of how he abandoned his life as a Neph and got into Harvard.
God damn it, I feel ill. I need a drink.
I’m greeted at the kitchen counter by a platinum blond with a bottle of tequila. That’ll do the trick. The tequila, I mean. It’s loud in here. I glance through the crowd to see Anna hanging on Kope’s every word in his oh-so-charming African dialect. She glances up and sees me as I take the shot handed to me. Then she turns her back to me as if I mean nothing, and my vitals plummet.
I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I let myself care this much for someone. I should be glad she’s out of my hair. She can be Kope’s problem now, not mine, but I’m not glad at all. I’m so fucking sad it’s pathetic.
On the heels of my sadness comes anger, crashing through. I never would have expected Anna to be so fickle. To love me one week and forget about me just as quickly.
I’m going to need a bit more tequila.
“Mind if I take this for a moment, luv?” I ask the blond.
“Only if you promise to come talk to me later.” She smiles up at me.
I touch her chin and say, “Deal.” Then I grab the bottle, lime slices, and shot glasses, and head across the kitchen to where my mates are gathering with Anna and Kope. When I’m standing right next to her I’m struck again by a sensation of betrayal. She’s acting sweet and innocent here with Kope, but I’ve seen her high and desperate for more drugs. I’ve heard her begging me to keep going. I know her. I know her when she’s sweet and I know her when she’s salty. I notice the way her eyes dart to the bottle with longing, because unlike the others, I’m watching for it.
“Tequila, anyone?” I say to her.
She squirms uncomfortably as others call for drinks and I hand them out.
“Kope?” I say, because I haven’t forgotten how he ignored my warning to back off. “Anna?” I want to call them both out for pretending to be perfect when they’re just as fucked up as the rest of us.
