Текст книги "The Song Remains the Same"

Автор книги: Kelli Jean

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

Kenna

Impossible! What was I thinking? I can’t plan for a wedding in less than four months!

The administration for the clinic I worked with had asked me to work more hours due to understaffing. When I’d informed them of my intentions of leaving, they’d begged me to give them some more weeks to train the new staff that would be joining at the end of February. Guilt had won out—Phil had had a mild conniption—and I was back to full-time therapeutic work for the moment.

While I was doing that, Phil was putting in serious hours with production, and the guys all came together to sit and write some new material, too.

So, planning the wedding fell to the weekends, and it was driving me crazy. Phil figured we’d just dump the whole burden on Sheri, which pissed me off to no end.

“It’s what we pay her to do!” he said after breakfast one morning.

I dropped a shit-ton of bridal magazines on the table in front of him. Jabbing my finger at the pile, I snapped, “You pick out what you want to wear! Sheri is not responsible for you getting married, Phil. Now, figure out what sort of suit you want, for fuck’s sake!”

“Damn, Baby Girl,” he said, looking truly terrified at my outburst.

“Damn, nothing! You wanted a spring wedding. Well, it’s nearly spring, and on top of everything I already have to do, you’re leaving me to figure out everything on my own! If it were up to me, we’d just do a courthouse quickie.”

Glaring at me, Phil opened his mouth to unleash unholy hell for that when Sheri poked her head through the kitchen window.

“I don’t mind helping out, you know.”

Phil whipped his arm out and pointed at her. “See?”

“Pick out your own damn suit, Phil!” I snarled before stomping out.

The stress of it was turning me into an emotional wreck. With overworking at the rehab clinic, staying up late to write for Mike, planning this fucking wedding, driving into NOLA at least once a week to try to find information on the music scene post-Katrina, I was losing my shit.

All I want is for Phil to pick out his fucking suit! Why can’t he just say what he likes? Is he so clueless? I need to know what his groomsmen will be wearing, so I can pick out the flowers and find bridesmaid dresses that Lili won’t pitch a hissy fit over…

“Hey, Kenna Baby…” He found me hiding in our bathroom, fully dressed, bawling my eyes out in the tub. “Talk to me.”

Climbing into the tub, too, he pulled me into his arms and let me wail and snot all over his chest.

“I don’t know!” I cried. “It just feels like all of this is too fucking much, and I just want it to be over with. I’m so tired all the time, and I’m sick of being at the clinic anymore. I have no fucking clue as to what I’m doing, and it scares the shit out of me that I’ll end up screwing it up, and you’ll blame me for having the wrong whatever it is, and I—”

“Kenna, the only thing that matters is that we’re gettin’ married, okay? That our friends and family will be there to share it with us. Everythin’ else don’t matter. If it’s all messed up, it’ll still be the most amazin’ day of our lives.”

“Will you pick out your own suit then?”

He sighed. “Can Sheri at least help me? She’s gotten me all my fuckin’ clothes for the last seven years. I don’t think it’d be a great idea to not let her help on the one day I actually gotta look good.”

Asshole. He looks good all the time, no matter what.

Sniffling, I nodded. “Yeah, you got a point.”

“Have you found a dress?”

Douche bag! “No!” I wailed, proceeding to bawl all over again.

Phil sighed and gently rocked me. “Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re almost finished at the clinic, and then you’ll join us on tour. When we get back, we’ll devote all our time to plannin’ it.”

The following week boded no better. On top of the stress and worrying, I was looking at a whole week and a half sans Phil, and I kept getting the feeling that I was forgetting something. It would creep up on me at weird moments, too, like when I was popping in an IV or applying acupuncture to help curb nausea.

What the fuck am I missing? I’ve forgotten something. I know it! I’m all sorts of out of whack.

But time never slowed down long enough to let me figure it out.

There was good news though. Phil’s dad and sister were back in their homes in the Garden District, and Phil had surprised me, Connor, Da, and Gloria by buying our parents their very own Garden District home, not more than a block from his dad’s. Fully restored and ready to move in, he’d also sprung for any and every piece of furniture they could possibly want.

“Seriously? No restrictions? We can get whatever we want?” asked Gloria in stunned disbelief.

Handing over the black Amex card Phil had made me take a year and a half before, I told her, “Go nuts. It cuts off at one million.”

“Shut the fuck up!” she gasped.

“Gloria!” barked Da. “Dinna be takin’ advantage o’ our children an’ their wealthy significant ot’ers!”

I winked. “Go for it, Mom.”

We’d be moving back to La Place after the Canadian tour. It wasn’t a long one—just three weeks of clubs with a few arena shows in the major cities. The guys would be flying out on the fifteenth to Montreal, the day after Valentine’s, before meeting up with Mack and the souped-up tour bus along with the roadies who had shipped out with the equipment and their own bus already, giving them a seven-day head start. Alys and I would be meeting up with the guys in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

In addition to ignoring our impending wedding, Phil and I spent the week before the tour packing up most of our crap in Lafayette and shipping it back to La Place.

Since Lili and Lewis had moved out, it had just been Alys, X, Phil and me living in this half. We missed our evil little Pygmy, but we spoke with her nearly every day. She was hoping that when they came back for the wedding, Lewis would want to stay in New Orleans again.

The relationship between Phil and X was much more pronounced as they constantly hung out. They were goofballs, wrestling around the place, playing video games, and having two-man jam sessions. I could see that they were best friends. Before, Flipper and Jason were always in the picture, completing the picture really. But Phil and X were the ones who had founded NOLA’s Junk, just two best friends in a garage with a beat-up acoustic guitar.

What the hell am I forgetting?

On the year anniversary of the clinic blowing up, Gavin and I made plans to meet up in Lafayette to share a quiet dinner. We wanted it to be just the two of us since we were all that was left of that time. Phil understood but kept sniffing me in my black silk wrap dress.

“Why do you keep sniffing me?” I asked, batting his hands away.

“You smell…more.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s like…I don’t know. You smell like more Kenna. It’s drivin’ me fuckin’ insane. It’s like Kenna concentrated or somethin’…”

Weird? “Okay…” I said, heading into the foyer to grab my purse.

“Well, I can’t fuckin’ help it if I like your stink, woman! It’s all over everythin’, too, makin’ me chub all fuckin’ day long. I want to fuck you ten times more and hard, too.”

“Hmm…that sounds like a plan for later, yeah?” I asked, grabbing his crotch and squeezing, a little shocked at how erect he was.

My cunt throbbed, and my nipples ached in response to his blatant arousal. Thinking of it, he smelled pretty strongly himself and in the most delicious way possible. Suddenly, the throbbing between my legs turned into a near-painful ache.

Phil’s hooded eyes went black, his nostrils flared, and he shoved me up against the wall, my arms and legs wrapping around him. As I ground against him as hard as he was grinding into me, we moaned into each other’s mouths, ready to devour—

Ding-dong!

“Fuck!” he snarled.

We were dry-humping in the foyer.

“To be continued…” I panted.

Untwining my legs from his waist, I was a bit wobbly on my feet. Phil slipped his hand under the hem of my dress, his jaw dropping as he felt just how wet I was.

“Kenna,” he growled, pushing aside my underwear and thrusting a burning finger into me. “Oh, fuck me. You’re fuckin’ soakin’…”

“Please,” I got out the strangled whisper. “I can’t take more, Phil. When I get home—”

Ding-dong!

He removed his finger and sucked it clean, his eyes boring into mine. “When you get home then.”

As I scurried off to the bathroom, Phil answered the door for Gavin. I quickly mopped myself up and put on a fresh pair of panties—hearty cotton ones with a panty liner for backup. Ridiculous that I was this fucking horny.

Granted, with all the extra work, we’d slowed down with the sex, too tired and just hadn’t had enough time. Maybe we just needed sex more than normal people, and when we didn’t get it, we would go apeshit.

Just stop thinking about it!

It had been a while since I had seen my dear friend. Gavin was as bald and squat as ever, but he looked healthy and happy to see me, so that felt good.

“You two have a good time,” said Phil, kissing me lightly and handing me off to Gavin.

My libido dried up as we descended the steps. Away from the object of my desire, I was able to concentrate on other things rather than fucking my fiancé’s brains out.

“So, what have you been up to?” Gavin asked as we hopped in his truck.

Besides living in a porn world inside my head?

“A lot of work at the rehab center. I’ve got about a week and a half left before I retire for good. What about you?”

“Still volunteering with cleanup mostly. Been giving treatments, too, for victims and workers. Nothing serious. Just going from here to there.”

“Yeah, I feel bad I haven’t done more back home—”

“Kenna, you work your ass off. I’m glad you’re following your dream. Someone needs to.”

The steak house was a fancy dive and maybe a little on the snooty side. Phil and I had been there a few times, so I knew the menu pretty well.

“You look fantastic, by the way,” Gavin told me as the host seated us. “Like glowing.”

I didn’t know one could glow with exhaustion. “Thanks, Gavin. You look pretty fantastic yourself.”

He smiled. “Well, thanks.”

Catching up with Gavin was wonderful. I told him all about the upcoming wedding.

“I’m freaking out about it,” I confessed.

“I think most people do,” he replied.

“Phil’s not.”

“That’s because, in his head, he’s already married to you.”

“I guess.”

What the fuck am I forgetting?

“So, when do the invites go out?”

“When we get back from Canada. It’s not going to be over-the-top or anything, you know? Close friends and family type of deal,” I told him.

We decided to split the chocolate lava cake for dessert, and for the first time, he brought up our lost coworkers and Rita.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” he said quietly.

“I know. A lot has happened since then.”

“If it never happened, what do you think we’d be doing? Would you still be at the clinic?”

“I am still at a clinic,” I stated. “But really…I think Phil would’ve found out about the contract and bought me out of it, and he would’ve found a loophole if I couldn’t get a replacement.”

“Yeah. Do you still get bouts of tinnitus?”

“Yeah, but fewer and further between as time goes on. You?”

“Mmhmm. I tried self-acupuncture for it. Worked pretty well.”

“What about you, if the clinic never blew up?”

“I would’ve still been there, no doubt. Lonely ’cause you would’ve left me for a rock star, irritated ’cause Lucy would’ve gone back to playing Enya, and hanging out with Charlotte ’cause she’d be menopausal and interested in hangin’ with other testosterone-fueled individuals like myself.”

I spit a mouthful of whipped cream in his face, and the two of us lost our fucking minds. Other patrons were staring at us. We were laughing that hard.

Our server came up. “Is everything okay?”

“No, man!” Gavin snorted. “Can’t your see we’re having a seizurific moment here?”

The server dropped off the check and walked away.

Stuffy steak house with their uptight staff…

They were lucky the food had been good because the atmosphere sucked. After we paid the check, Gavin and I left, happy to leave the snobby establishment.

Dropping me off at the duplex, Gavin walked me to the door and gave me a giant hug. “Call me when you get back, okay? I miss you—” he started to say.

The front door opened, and Phil poked his head out. “Oy!”

“Shit, Phil!” I hissed, pulling back from Gavin’s hug.

“No making out on the front porch, woman!” he barked before shutting the door.

Gavin busted out laughing.

Turning back to my friend, I smiled. “I miss you, too. We need to hang out more, and we will once I’m back.”

“I know. Tell your man good night for me, yeah?”

“Will do.”

Phil wasted no time. The second I was through the front door, I was over his shoulder, and he was hauling ass up the stairs to our bedroom. He didn’t take off my clothes. He tore them off. My dress, bra, and sexy granny panties were roughly yanked and tugged from my body.

I was so ready.

“How do you want me?” he growled, all up in my face. “Tell me!”

Gods above…

“Fr-from behind.”

Phil spun me around and pushed me onto the bed. “I’ve been fuckin’ thinkin’ about you all fuckin’ night,” he growled with awesome filth. “I’ve fuckin’ had to jack off twice to get me through it.”

The sound of his Dickies and belt dropping to the floor inflamed my core. When I felt the heat of him caress over my backside, I whimpered.

“You want it just as bad, don’t you?” Shit, he sounded pissed.

“Yesss.”

Using his knees, he spread mine wide. “Arch your fuckin’ back.”

Pushing into position, I let out an unholy moan as he sank in deep.

“Holy. Fuckin’. Shit!” he groaned. “How the fuck are you this wet?”

I have no idea. Right now, I don’t fucking care.

“I need it hard, babe,” I panted. “Don’t hold back.”

My whole body was tensed to the point of pain, craving the release only Phil could give me. And fuck me, did he deliver. A whole slew of orgasms plowed their way through me, one right after the other. Behind me, I heard the love of my life gasp as I squeezed down on him for the umpteenth time.

“Fuckin’ hell, Kenna!” he cried. “What the…”

I had no idea. Never had I experienced anything like this. Nerves raw and tingling, I slumped into the mattress, and Phil shoved me flat, grabbing my waist and pile-driving into me, beating just one more orgasm through me before finding his own.

Panting, dripping with sweat, he collapsed next to me on the bed. “What…the fuck…was that?”

“Awesome?” I grunted in reply. “I say we do that again!”

Truly shocked, Phil turned his face toward me. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Um…you?”

“You see? This is what happens when we don’t fuck on a daily basis, Baby Girl. Now, you’re gonna end up killin’ me, tryin’ to make up for the last few weeks. I can’t fuckin’ wait until you’re done with the clinic.”

We spent the rest of the weekend like hermits, only coming out of our room for food. Apparently, Alys and X had had the same idea.

Monday was a harsh bitch. Determined not to be too tired when we got home, I dragged him up the stairs and had my way with him all over again.

“What the—” he yelped as I attacked his belt and fly before yanking down his pants and boxers. Then, he groaned when I wrapped my lips around his cock. “Baby, are you feelin’ all right?”

“I missed you,” I replied, getting to my feet and shoving him back onto the bed. Half-clothed, I jumped on top and rode him hard and fast.

“I missed you, too,” he said, his hands gripping my hips.

I might have scared him a little, and maybe I was a little scared myself. This all-consuming need to have him was playing havoc on my head. Whatever this was, it was weird because I only got this way the second I could see him, smell him, hear him, touch him…

“I feel it, too, Kenna,” he whispered, picking up on my train of thought. “It’s freakin’ me out, but every minute I’m inside you is just another minute I get to spend in heaven.”

On Tuesday, Valentine’s Day, I did my utmost to concentrate on my patients. It wasn’t their fault I was a raging hornball. In the afternoon, I changed into respectable office-type clothes to meet the new staff I’d be training for the next week and a half. Like a board meeting, I PowerPoint-presented the things that they were to expect and what they should be prepared for.

I had never cared less about helping people in my life, which was just so wrong. I’d gotten into this profession to be of service to others. Now, I just wanted out.

For so long, I’ve deluded myself into thinking this is what I need to live a fulfilling life. Even in the beginning, I ignored all of my internal protests just to prove to myself that I could. I don’t even know how it is that I’m good at this.

Tired and aching from wearing heels for hours, I entered the duplex and sagged against the wall for a moment. The scent of Alys’s homemade lasagna wafted toward me, and I sniffed appreciatively.

Since the guys were shipping out the next day, we figured it’d be best to have a low-key evening with just the four of us. Jason was taking Sheri out for a super romantic evening, and Connor was still in the studio, doing some last-minute production with Freedom to Speak. Flipper and Viv were off somewhere, doing gods-knew-what. Romance between those two was just bizarre on a good day.

Clickety-clacking in my heels down the hall, I walked into the kitchen to see Phil with oven mitts on, waving the steam off the bubbling casserole, and Alys was tossing a salad. X was dutifully watching them while smoking a spliff.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” the redhead said, waving the spliff. “Come hit this.”

Phil’s eyes snapped to me, taking in my attire. “Where the hell were you dressed all fine like that?”

“I had to meet the new recruits today and give a presentation, remember?”

“Dressed like the sexiest secretary on the planet?” His compliments never failed to warm me to my soul even if they were a bit uncouth.

“Yep.”

Plopping my ass on the stool next to X, I took the joint. Phil scowled at me, which meant he was getting a chub and wanted me to do something about it. I wanted to do something about it, too.

Dinner was nice, if not strained with our sexual tension. I could almost reach out and touch it, as if it were a living, breathing entity squished between us at the table.

With the table cleared and the dishes in the dishwasher, Phil took my hand and led me upstairs to our bedroom.

This time, he was in control. Fierce passion twisted his face, yet every move was calculated, each touch meant to reach into the very center of my being. Last night had been frenzied. Tonight, our last night for the next week and a half, he wanted something that would carry us through our time apart.

What have I forgotten?

He stretched over me, filling me, straining to reach beyond the sexual haze we’d been drowning in and caress the emotional black box inside me. It wasn’t about getting off. He wanted the connection that we’d forgotten about in this weird deluge of carnality.

“I’m so proud of you. You know that, right?”

Deviating a bit from the normal dirty talk, I thought wryly.

“All the hard work you’ve been doin’, givin’ all of yourself to the people who need you, and still findin’ the strength to walk away from it and follow your dreams…”

“You’re the one who has made it all possible,” I told him. “Without you…”

“Without you, I’d be a hot mess. I’d be lost. You’ve given me everythin’ I’ve ever dreamed of. You’ve shown me who I really am, who I want to be. So, whatever I can do to give you everythin’ you’ve ever wanted, I’m more than happy to give it.”

“Damn it, Phil!” I gasped, fighting the urge to weep.

Smiling, he sweetly kissed me while framing my face with his hands. “You’re my every fantasy come true…”

“It’s been a while since your last visit,” Mom says.

I’m filled with a sense of peace at the sound of her voice. My eyes close against the brilliant sunlight, and my head is full of the scent of those flowers that forever bloom here.

“You’ve been happy,” she says, and I smile. “That’s why you haven’t needed us.”

“I always need you,” I tell her, opening my eyes. “I’ve never not needed you, Mom.”

On my left, the air stirs, and the grass rustles as Grandma takes a seat. Her hand is soft as she takes mine.

“And we need you,” she tells me. “We need you to be strong. Because what is ahead of you is going to test your strength and your faith in all you’ve achieved.”

“Some things happen to us for a reason,” my mother tells me. “These things make us worthy, make us strong, even though it feels like we are at our lowest, weakest point.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, fear creeping into my chest.

Above me, the sky fills with black clouds, rolling and writhing about.

Grandma places her hand upon my stomach, and as I look down, I see that I am swollen, bloated in pregnancy.

“Some things are meant to teach us lessons, and lessons can be painful. See it through to the fullest, but don’t let it take you down with it, or you will lose everything.”

“And don’t tell him—at least not until it’s too late,” my mother warns me. “Most of all, do not be afraid. We are with you.”

Drenched in sweat, shivering, I woke up groggy and ill. Checking the alarm clock, I was about half an hour away from the buzzer waking me up. Alys and I would be boarding a plane to New York and catching the connecting flight to Saskatoon in just a few hours.

My stomach wriggled unpleasantly, and I booked it into the bathroom to dry-heave. Weakly, I clung to the bowl, clammy and feeling drained of energy.

It all made sense now, and I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. There was no excuse for it. It didn’t matter that I’d been swamped with work, that I was in a million different places in my head all at once. The signs had been there, like being fucking horny as all hell.

I’m a goddamn doctor! How did I not realize what was going on in my own fucking body?

“This is so messed up.” I groaned into the bowl.

I’d forgotten to give myself my birth control shot four weeks ago.

Phil had done it. He’d knocked me up.