Everything I Need (14 page)

Rolling his head around his shoulders, cracking his neck, he agitatedly gestures with his arms.

“Yes. It. Is. What do you want, Sophia? What the fuck do you want?”

As if I could just say to him, “I missed you,” or, “Please love me and never hurt me again.” I grind my teeth together. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to go through that hell with him again. I have to keep some kind of wall up. So instead, I protect myself.

“I want you to get out!”

At that, Tristan gives me one last glare before stomping by me and slamming the door, hard.

I need to get off this fucking island.

I take a longer than necessary shower. After I wash every inch of my body, I sit in there with the spray falling on me ‘til it goes cold. With a towel wrapped around me, I pull out another pair of the ridiculous shorts Frankie packed. The damn shorts are so fucking tiny that I’m going to have to put some makeup on my fucking thighs to cover Tristan’s marks on me. Another thirty minutes pass and I’m wearing white shorts with a tight, light blue, v-necked t-shirt. My hair is loose today, and other than the makeup to cover the hickeys, I didn’t bother to put anything else on.

I missed two phone calls while I was getting ready. I feel like shit because I know at least one of them was probably Benny and I’m not quite ready to pretend a normal conversation with him yet.

Placing a couple of knitted bracelets on my wrist, I head downstairs to the kitchen before going into the studio. I’m not even hungry, but I know I should have something in my stomach. I grab a pre-made fruit bowl and a bottled water. I think it would be nice to eat outside this morning, so I step through to the patio.

The first thing I notice is the broken bottle that Tristan threw down last night. Taking a seat at the table, I take a bite of pineapple and slowly chew it, blankly staring at the soft ripples of the pool water.

“Morning.”

I hear a low, raspy voice behind me. Peeking over my shoulder, I see Gunner walking out with a bowl in his hands, wearing black shorts and nothing else. His long hair is tangled and in his eyes. Taking a seat beside me, he places his bowl down.

“Good morning,” I say back.

Oh, gawd! I feel kind of awkward, but thankfully he’s nothing like Roger. Roger would be throwing what happened last night in my face. Gunner is just playing with his phone in one hand and shoveling cereal into his face with the other. I don’t get any awkward vibes coming off him, either.

We continue our meal in comfortable silence. When I’m done, just as I stand up from the table, my phone starts vibrating in my back pocket.
Shit.
I know I have to take it.

Setting my bowl back down, I pull my phone out. Sure as shit, it’s Benny. I let it ring one more time before sliding my finger across the screen.

“Hey, babe!” I answer timidly.

Gunner looks up from his phone with a shit smirk on his face.

Chapter Thirteen

Tristan

By the time I reach my room, my anger is spills over. Throwing my clothes against the wall, I slam the door shut. The damn thing actually bounces back and I realize that I just broke the fucking latch.

Frustrated, I pull my hair back out of my face, yanking at the scalp when I do, trying to steady my breathing.
That fucking female is driving
me crazy.
She has to make everything so damn difficult all the time. I want her; I fucking need her so damn bad that I can’t see straight.

Why doesn’t she just let go? I know she feels the same exact way. I can feel the heat radiating off of her. I know I fucked up, but damn it! I shouldn’t be punished anymore. All the suffering I’ve been through these last two years was punishment enough. Right now, I’ll let her be. I just need to focus on getting some actual fucking work done today. I’ll let her cool down right now, but I swear to God, I’m not giving up on her. Never . . .

It takes over five hundred pushups before I begin to calm the fuck down again. After I’m done, I grab a shower before heading down. I don’t even give a fuck if they’re waiting for me to cover more material. The guys can do their own shit right now. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I step back into my room, taking sight of Caleb sitting at the edge of my bed. He’s rubbing the back of his shaved head with one hand, looking up at me. I stop and clench my teeth. I’m about two seconds away from punching that stupid fucking, shit-eating grin off his metal face.

“What the fuck do you want?” I spit out, glowering down at him.

The motherfucker actually has the nerve to chuckle at me. I go over to the dresser to pull out some jeans, busying myself so I don’t lay out my best friend.

“We’ve got a lot of shit to go over today. Lux called this morning when you were um . . . busy.”

I glance over my shoulder at him and he’s standing beside the bed now, still wearing a fucking smug look.

“So?” I turn back around and grab the first shirt that’s on top of the pile and make my way back into the bathroom. I don’t have time for this shit. Cackling, Caleb continues.

“Yeah, whatever. He wants us back the day after tomorrow. Some shit about getting the promotions ready for the tour. We all still have a ton of shit to go over before it starts and Lux wants us back in the studio Friday morning to go over the final details of the album. Same with Sophia and her band. I guess he’s scheduled a press conference for Monday morning. Some reporters and shit.”

“Fine,” I say back to him before slamming the bathroom door with less force than when I came in, but enough to give him the hint to get the fuck out.

Slipping the belt through the loops of my jeans, I can’t stop the image of Sophia’s tight, sweaty little body, wearing my marks. Fuck. My dick twitches and I can still hear her whimpering and screaming my name last night as I fucked her. I shouldn’t be going down to the studio with this much tension in me.

Pulling my t-shirt over my head, I head downstairs. As I get closer, I hear the faint sound of Sophia’s sweet voice through the studio doors. Pushing them open, I see that she is once again in the booth. Gunner is chilling over on the couch with Dave, twirling his drumstick in his hand. Caleb’s not around and I wonder where that fucker is, since we have to get rest of the song finished soon.

I take the seat beside Gage. He pushes up his glasses that have slid down the bridge of his nose, and plays around with controls. Leaning back into the leather chair, I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself in check. Sophia is layering over some of our vocals, but what surprises the fuck out of me is how she sounds. This is softer than the rest of the lyrics and I think she’s singing in Italian.

My knee starts to bounce as if I’m irritated or bored, but it’s because Sophia has no clue that she’s fucking killing me. Does she even fucking know how damn sexy she is? This new idea of hers isn’t really done in these types of songs, especially ours, but I can only imagine when it’s all finally put together how fucking killer it’s going to sound.

She goes over a couple lines, then stops while Gage presses a few buttons. She does it again and again.
What the fuck is she singing?
“Io sono niente per te.” After she’s done with that and Gage tweaks some controls, she sings, “Il mio cuore apparterra sempre a te.” 

After a few more times, Gage gives her the thumbs up. She nods once before slipping the headphones off. Gunner stretches and stands up.

“My turn,” he says before going to sit behind his drums. Sophia steps out without even glancing in my direction. Really? We’re going back to this shit now? Rubbing my hand down my face, I keep reminding myself she needs a little time. But I’m an impatient man. Sophia has, oh I don’t know, about a fucking hour before she hears it from me.

Gage gestures her over with his hand, looking down at his laptop. She hesitates for only a moment. I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face when I notice she actually put makeup on the marks. She notices it, too. Her big blue eyes quickly scan down her body then back up to glare into mine. She’s a little feisty right now; that’s a good sign. She looks down at Gage.

“Yeah?” she asks him.

“Honestly, Sophia, I think I pretty much have everything I need from you. Later tonight, I’ll be working more on this. If by any chance I need you to redo something, I’ll let you know tomorrow morning. But I think it’s pretty safe to say you’re done.”

“Really?”

They’re both smiling at each other and giggling. Give me a fucking break! I glare at them both.

“That’s fucking nice,” I bark at Gage. “But we still have a lot of shit to be covered in the next couple days. Get back to it.”

Gage nods swiftly and clears his throat.

“Right,” he mumbles back to me before giving Gunner the go-ahead. Sophia rolls those angelic eyes of hers before going back over to the couch. I press my lips together. I don’t want to show her my smile yet, but I think the damn thing slipped.

We are kicking some major ass today. All the guys are on top of their shit. After a while, Caleb comes in with some pizzas and we munch out, have a few beers, and smoke a little weed.

My girl is so fucking cute when she’s stoned. She’s not blocking herself off from being around me now like she did when I first came in here. She’s giggling with a mouth full of cold pizza. Dave, being Dave, keeps asking her to French braid his hair. Moron.

“Come on, Sophia. Aren’t you Indians really good at braiding and shit?” He’s laughing at her, giving her a hard time.

“I believe the correct term is ‘Native Americans’, Dave,” Ryan speaks up, just chilling in the corner by himself.

“My people are good and bad at a lot of things, white man.” She winks at him. Even I laugh a little at that one. 

It’s hard to tell that we’ve been in here for almost eight hours already. I’m kind of surprised that Gage ain’t a little bit stoned himself from being stuck in this room all day.

“Okay,” he finally says, tossing his pen down on the board. “I think that’s a wrap. If I need anyone to redo something, I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Sweet!” Ryan exclaims.

It’s pretty much the only thing he’s said all day, other than the Native comment. Caleb heads in my direction, rubbing his hands together and wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“Let’s celebrate!”

Yeah, that does seem cool. I nod to him and rest of the guys all start hollering, “Fuck yeah!” Sophia’s still sitting down, nodding her head ‘yes’ as well.

“Why don’t you guys get out of the house so I can work a little better on this?” Gage asks over the noise of everyone and I think that’s a pretty damn good idea.

“Yeah okay, cool,” Caleb says, then sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling for everyone’s attention. We all stop and I can’t help myself from staring at Sophia, who is giving Caleb all of her attention at the moment.

“It’s . . .” Caleb looks down at his phone real quick before looking back up at everyone. “. . . Six o’clock. How about in one hour we go to this little bar about twenty minutes from here? I’ll call the cab.”

Sophia slowly gets up from the couch. She peeks over at me as she’s walking out and I can’t help myself. I give her a quick wink. Her stoned eyes widen a little before she walks out the door. I can’t believe I fucking winked. But damn it, her reaction was entertaining. A deep throaty laugh escapes from me and I can just tell tonight is going to be fun.

Sophia

Damn Tristan! It’s really hard to be pissed at him when he shows his playful side, which by the way, is not very often. Running my fingers through my hair, I calm myself down at the flirty episode Tristan just displayed. I can’t help it; when he does sweet shit like that I get all girly, weakening in the knees and shit. To keep my mind moving forward and not stuck on pause with Tristan, I think I’ll call my boys and let them know we’re pretty much done.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I hit call on Roger’s number. While it’s ringing, I traipse over to my bed . . . my sex-sheeted bed that’s still a mess from earlier.
Shit.
I shove the blankets and sheets over before lying down on my side. Propping my elbow up, I rest my head into my hand while the other lazily holds my phone up to my ear, barely keeping it in place with just my index and middle finger. Right as I’m about to hang up, Roger picks up.

“Sophie!” he answers excitedly. I know it’s only been a few days since I’ve talked with him, but I can’t help the smile that’s splitting my face right now at hearing his voice again.

“Hey there!”

“So how’s it fucking going?”

“Good. Real good . . . We’re pretty much done and I’ll be home a couple days sooner than expected,” I tell him.

“That’s cool. Hey, I heard we have to go over some shit before the tour. But, um . . .” Roger trails off. My guilty conscience starts kicking into overdrive, my smile fading.

“What, Roger?”

There’s no fucking way he would know something happened. Is there? I can hear Roger close a door behind him with the faint sound of a latch. He must be in another room now. Oh no! He clears his throat and whispers into the line.

“I heard there’s going to be reporters and shit. Shit, Sophia! Will you do the speaking? I don’t I have a fucking clue about how to deal with that crap. I mean, I know I’ve done it before, but that was after little gigs, and to just one person. . . not a room full of thirty or more people all asking a bunch of questions and shit.” 

Roger actually sounds a little nervous and relief floods over me. Oh, thank God! For a second there, I was damn nervous. Stupid me. I’m just being paranoid; which I have every right to be, since I fucked up. No one, other than Undead, of course, will never know what Tristan and I did. Not even Frankie.

I’ll have to make the breakup quick and easy so Benny won’t suspect anything. I figure it’s better to let him go with another story rather than tell him the complete truth and destroy him. Hey, it’s not like I’m still going to be in a relationship with the guy and carry on a lie forever! Roger pulls me back out of my fucked up head.

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t care, Roger. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Sweet! I mean, I’m not going to be a fucking mime or anything.” he chuckles down the line. “I just want to be in the background. You know what I mean?”

We end up talking for a few more minutes. I tell him how beautiful this place is, and that we all need to come out here sometime and hang out together. He lets me know all of the horrible shit he and the other guys are putting poor Jeff through before the tour. He calls it ‘initiation’. . . like making the guy do his final recordings with a fucking bondage mask on, or wearing a shirt that says “Jared’s Bitch” on the front every day, and not changing it when they go out. I can tell that last one was totally Roger’s idea. Only he would think of something to tease Jared about that humiliates Jeff at the same time.
That fucking guy.
Ending the call, I stretch out before making my way into the bathroom.

Lux’s tub is completely, fucking incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it before. On the other side of the impressive shower set up sits this marble tub that looks like it was hewn from a single block of marble, carved into this colossal bowl shape. It’s going to take the whole damn hour I have just to fill it up. I turn the levers over and the tub slowly begins to fill.

Staring at the water as it flows into the tub, I glance up and notice that there is a small jar on the wall behind the tub filled with what looks like bath salts. I place one hand on the wall for support and lean in, wrapping my fingers around the jar with the other and pulling it to me. I remove the top and raise the jar to my nose, breathing in the scent. The salt crystals are soaked in rose oil and infused with actual rose petal pieces. The effect is instantly calming.

Scooping the salt into the tub, I watch how the crystals break apart once they hit the warm water. The rose petals come back to life, expanding and floating to the surface as the water rises.

While I’m waiting for the bath to fill, I decide to save a little time and lay out what I’m going to wear tonight since I still have to wait another ten minutes at least before I can get into the water. I’m not going to wear shorts or a kid shirt out tonight.

I noticed before that there were a couple of dresses packed in my suitcase. Among all of the ridiculous pieces Frankie has packed, I spot a racer front mini dress. Just by touching the fabric, I can tell it’s going to be very form fitting. It’s made of red heather patterned cotton and spandex, but the length is good. Holding it up to my frame, the dress falls about six inches above my knees. A little short, but nothing compared to these damn shorts I’ve been parading around in.

Smoothing out the dress, I place it on a hanger and walk back into the bathroom to hang it up behind the door. I take a deep breath. The sensual scent of the steam rising off the crystals is taking over. The bath is almost ready for me to get in. Checking my phone for the time, I notice that I still have half an hour.

I quickly strip off my clothes beside the tub. I want to enjoy this luxurious soak, but I don’t want to keep the guys waiting. If Jared were here, I know I would have an extra twenty minutes, at least. Aw, my. Poor Jared.

Grasping the side, I slowly sink my toes into the water. Then, swinging my other leg over, I ease myself into a seat.

“Ah. . .” I moan as the sultry water washes over me.

Resting my head back, I close my eyes and enjoy the tranquility and serenity that’s all around me. After this morning and last night, I fucking need this shit. I remain like this, with my eyes closed, for a while. After all the weed I smoked earlier and my morning run, I feel like I could pass out. I have to shake myself out of it. We’re done with the track and I just want to hang out with the guys.
Even Tristan.
Shit! I just can’t fucking stop myself.  

Why can’t you just fucking admit to yourself what you fucking want?

Tristan’s words slowly creep back into my head. What I want? Hmm . . . that’s a good fucking question. I don’t even have the answer to that. I don’t want to hurt Benny, but I’ve already done that. I don’t want to be with him either, though, and I hate how I’m going to have to end it. I can’t be with Tristan because I don’t think I’m strong enough to go through all that shit again. I feel a painful jab deep in my heart and a sink in my stomach at the thought of not being with him.
Fuck me!
What in the hell is going on?

Opening my eyes, I bring my knees into me and reach for one of the towels that are folded beside me on a wall shelf to my right. Grabbing one, I stand up too quickly. My head swims from being submerged in the warm, soothing water for too long.

Quickly, I place my palm on the wall beside me, resting for a moment. Small drops of sweat form on my forehead from the intensity of the rush I just experienced. Carefully stepping out, I wrap the large, soft towel around my body and catch my breath before padding back to the room. I sit at the edge of the bed to get a hold of myself and cool down.

Right then, my phone starts to ring. Hesitantly, I make my way back into the bathroom where I left it. It’s Benny. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I hold my breath as I slide my finger across the screen. I’ve been avoiding Benny’s calls because . . . well, because
I’m a whore.

Damn it! I’ll text him back and maybe tomorrow, I’ll be able to call him. I can’t keep up this façade that everything is fine. If he was here, I would end it, but I just can’t do it like this. He deserves a respectful end to our relationship, even though my actions last night spoke greater volumes of disrespect. My heart drops as I open up Benny’s text.

Sophia, are you all right? Please get back to me. Anytime, don’t worry about it.

Yep, I’m definitely shit. I know he tried calling in the morning, but when I check my phone, I see he tried calling a few times again in the afternoon, leaving voice messages after every call.
Fuck!
I text him back.

Sorry, babe.

I instantly cringe at myself for typing that and playing him along like everything’s okay, with him not knowing what I’ve done and what I have planned when I get home. I quickly type up another text.

Long day but the good news is, I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. A couple days earlier. Going to bed. Call you tomorrow.

After pressing send I feel like I want to stand in the middle of the street, wearing a large, fucking red letter A. Bearing a scarlet cross to the bitter end. I deserve to burn. How can I cheat on someone that’s treated me so well and then lie to him on top of it all? Staring up at my reflection in the mirror, I let out a defeated breath. I tip my head to the side, remembering what Tristan said to me last night.

I’m not going to lose you again.

I shiver as goosebumps ripple across my skin as heat rapidly courses underneath it, causing my stomach to flutter and my core to ache. Closing my eyes, I exhale softly, replaying our conversation from this morning again in my head.

“It’s not that fucking simple, Tristan!”

“Yes. It. Is. What do you want, Sophia?”

Lifting my heavy eyelids, I step away from the mirror, holding onto the front of my towel as if it were a life vest. The words fall faintly from my lips.

“I want you, Tristan. . .”