Bullet(53)

I was overwhelmed with so many emotions, the first of which was my feelings of love for this man that had intensified. Before, yes, I had felt love for Ethan, but nothing like this. It was multiplied now and heavy, stretching into the deep caverns of my soul. I wasn’t sure how to process it.

And then I was also almost giddy that I had just made a passage. I was no longer a girl. Truly, I’d been moving to womanhood already. I’d been responsible for my own care for more than a year, what with living on my own at school, but somehow losing my virginity not only symbolized that process but affirmed it.

Lying there thinking about that, I then thought about my dad of all people. I was no longer daddy’s little girl. I was no longer his precious pearl, and he could no longer protect me from the world, from the beauty and wonder nor from the pain and torment. I wondered what he and my mom would think if they knew. I knew from the experiences over the past summer that they trusted me. Whether that was due to realizing that they had to let go and let me make my own mistakes or if they just thought I was a young woman of incredible self-restraint, I didn’t know.

There was no clock in that hotel room, so I had no idea how long I lay there. Ethan rolled over after a long while, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Between them and the pain, I lay awake until what I was sure was early morning…all by myself.

* * *

I heard that annoying ringtone. It wouldn’t stop. And then I realized it was my cell phone on the nightstand next to the bed. By the time I had my bearings and sat up, the ringing stopped.

Oh, the bed was too soft. I didn’t want to get up. I noticed Ethan wasn’t in the bed anymore, and I wondered where he was until I heard him running water in the bathroom. I blinked a few times and picked up my phone to see who was calling. I didn’t recognize the number, so I wasn’t going to worry about it, but then I saw that I had a message. I listened to it and found it was a man from a sub shop I’d applied to the week before, wanting to schedule an interview with me.

I smiled. No, I didn’t want to work for a sub shop, but I did want a job. Sexually, I might have started my journey to womanhood less than twenty-four hours ago, but in terms of worries and the need to survive, I’d become a full-fledged adult the week before. A job, no matter what kind of job it was, would make me feel like I had more control over my destiny. Until we were earning serious money making music (which might never happen), I wanted a backup plan, and I was starting to wonder why I was the only one—aside from Brad, of course—who seemed concerned about it.

I decided I’d call when we got back to the apartment. I wasn’t anywhere near being in a state of mind that would allow me to sound professional or capable. I was still half asleep and emotionally charged.

Ethan came out of the bathroom. “Was that your phone?”

“Yeah. I need to schedule a job interview.” I stood up…slowly. I felt better than I had the night before, but the pain was still raw. I’d want to take my time, but I wanted to brush my teeth, wash my face, and put on some clothes. Yes, clothes first. My body wasn’t used to being bare, and the air on my skin felt strange. I found my bag on a chair near the front door and picked it up.

“You okay, Val?”

I stood up and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?”

As I made my way toward him (and the bathroom door behind him), he met me halfway. “I’m fine, but I didn’t go through what you did. Maybe we should get you some Tylenol or something.”

I let out a small chuckle. “I’ll be fine.”

He grabbed me around the waist. Unlike me, Ethan had jeans on again. And, truth be told, he didn’t know how desperate I was to get clothes on. He kissed me on the forehead. He looked worried. “You sure?”

“Yes. I just want to get cleaned up a little.”

While in the bathroom, in spite of the discomfort, I allowed my mind to drift back to the night before. I knew it was an experience I wouldn’t soon forget. I’d seen a side of Ethan that I’d never seen before and that, frankly, I doubted very many people ever had or would. It was a sweet, tender side, one that was okay with being a little vulnerable. I didn’t anticipate seeing it very often either. That was all right, though, because I’d seen it and wanted to hold that memory in my heart.

And, so, while I brushed my teeth and finger-combed my hair, I found myself smiling more and more. I was glad I’d done it and glad it was with Ethan. Somehow, I knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey.





Chapter Twenty-three



I WAS LOOKING out the windshield at the red light. Ethan had asked if I wanted any breakfast. I told him I didn’t, but coffee would be great, so he’d just pulled into a drive-through at a McDonald’s and ordered two coffees. I was blowing on it because it was crazy hot, even with the creamers I’d poured in.

“Hey…I wanted to ask you about something.” God, he was beautiful in the sunlight filtering through the windshield. His eyes looked like a paler green than they usually did, and he had gorgeous stubble on his face.

I was still in a partial dream state. “Hmm?”

“How would you feel…” His foot touched the accelerator to start the truck rolling through the green light. “Uh…how’d you feel if we just kinda kept it low key for a while?”

I cocked my head and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Just…with all of us under the same roof. Just…I think maybe we shouldn’t say anything to the guys for a while.”

“Oh…you mean…about us?”

“Yeah.”

I thought about it for a few moments. “Why?”

“Why not? If we make a big deal about it, then they’ll give us shit about it.”

“So?”

“So…I’m not in the mood to deal with it.” He sighed. “Wouldn’t it just be nice to explore things without being under scrutiny?”

“You think it would really be that way?”

He grinned and looked at me. “Let’s just say I’ve known these guys a lot longer than you have.” He turned the corner at the next block and said, “Besides, I don’t really want to slap Brad in the face with this right now.”

I thought I was okay with that. I was still in a state of hormone-induced happiness. As long as I knew we had days, weeks, months ahead of us to explore our relationship, he could be as under the radar as he wanted. And he was right. I too didn’t want to have that awkward exchange with Brad…even though the guy had seen it coming a mile away.

And it wasn’t hard, at least not right then. Brad wasn’t even there when we got to the apartment, and the other two guys were still sleeping. Ethan squeezed my hand and then I walked to my room. I wanted to shower. I felt like I needed it. As I unpacked the bag, I came across the bottle of vodka Ethan had barely touched, and I set it on the kitchen table before I went into the bathroom. Ethan was nowhere to be found, so I thought maybe he was in the big bedroom doing something—composing music, maybe.

I felt free and alive as I stepped into the tub…except for that one area, but even that was starting to feel a little more normal. I didn’t know if I should just rest and take it easy or if I should push through the pain. I knew I didn’t want to walk around the neighborhood, though, but I’d let life dictate what I’d have to do, based on a tiny phone call.

When I got out of the shower and into clothes, I called the manager of the sub shop. Lucky me. He scheduled the interview for the next day, so I decided to take it easy and hope my body felt better the next day. I lay on my bed, writing out new lyrics, and drifted off to sleep, and I knew it was because I hadn’t slept well the night before. When I awoke later, I heard Nick, Zane, and Ethan talking in the kitchen, so I got up. I debated about going out there and then decided to walk as normally as I could, and our place was small enough that I thought I could pull it off.

Zane was talking. “I think he actually started work today.”

“That’s stupid. He’s set up so many f*cking dates for us to play, if he’s working too, when does he plan to practice?”

“You know Brad. He’ll figure it out.”

Ethan said, “Nick, you should talk to him. You’re always able to reason with him.”

“The f*ck I am. That’s your bag, Ethan. Brad does what Brad wants.” Nick looked at me and acted guilty that I’d overheard him. He shouldn’t have, though, because I knew that Nick—although quiet—didn’t say to Ethan and Zane anything he wouldn’t say to Brad. Nick might have been quiet most of the time and obnoxious and out of control when drinking, but he’d always seemed upfront and honest in all his dealings with his friends. So I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders and sat at the other empty chair at the table.

“It’s probably my turn to cook dinner, right?”