Текст книги "Dazed"
Автор книги: Kim Karr
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 9 страниц)
Chapter 9
Dark Side
The birds sing all around me while the sunlight filters through the large trees that surround my stone patio. As I rock in my comfortable padded chair, I sip my tea and stare at the wooded hills that lead to trails I have only walked with him. I’ve done so many things with Jagger I’d never done before.
I’m trying to ignore the tears leaking from my eyes as I move back and forth. My insatiable appetite for Jagger Kennedy has blurred my judgment, but not any longer. I can’t go on like this. I’m sure he’ll be here shortly, and once he arrives, I’ll be mature and break things off in a respectable way. I want to seem unbreakable, like the girl I’ve been so many times who broke up with her boyfriend because he just wasn’t right for her. But this time I’m anything but—my heart has already been shredded into a million tiny pieces.
“Hey, I’ve been calling you all afternoon.” His voice is warm, velvety, and smooth.
I take a slow, calm breath as I lean my head toward him and away from the sun. “Can you sit down?”
He’s standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong?
“We need to talk.” I can’t believe how calm I’m being.
“Why haven’t you answered your phone?” He places his arms on either side of my chair and leans forward.
I allow this last bit of closeness. One last sniff of his delicious scent that now seems marred by her scent. “Jagger, please sit down.”
He tips my chin. “I don’t want to sit down. I want to know what is going on.”
I want to turn my cheek and let his fingers skim my face, but I pull away. “I saw the two of you together today.”
He brings my gaze back to his. “Who are you talking about?”
“Jules. I saw you and Jules.” Her name burns my throat.
“That’s why I was calling you, to tell you Brett had called me at the last minute. Wait, how did you know I was there?” Panic flashes across his face, I see it clear as day.
I straighten my stance. My heart feels like it’s trying to break out of my chest. “Jagger, let’s not drag this out. You got what you wanted. You were amazing today. I’m sure you’ll get the role.”
He finally sits down. Stunned into silence, he just stares at me. “What are you talking about?”
I gesture between us. “You and I, this farce you’ve been playing all the while seeing her.”
“Aerie,” he says tightly. “What the hell is going on? How can you think that?”
I breathe in a breath that I don’t want to let out. Finally, releasing it, I spill it all. “I saw you with her weeks ago when you drove me to work. Then you disappeared that day. Now I see the two of you auditioning for lead romantic roles opposite each other. Did I leave anything out? Oh, yeah, Kay claims you just up and left Jules without any reason. Did she really even cheat on you?”
Alarm fills his face. “First of all, who the fuck is Kay?”
“Kay Hudson. Jules’ sister,” I hiss.
His jaw drops, but again silence surrounds us for the longest time. “Kimberly is in California?”
I guess he calls Kay, Kimberly. “Yes, she’s my other half at the magazine.”
He scrubs his head with his fingers and his hair sticks up everywhere. “Kimberly doesn’t have a fucking clue why we broke up. And, yes, I saw Jules that morning I dropped you off. It was pouring rain and she didn’t have an umbrella so I walked her to the door. She told me she moved to LA, and I don’t even think I said hello. I was shocked she was here. I haven’t seen her since that day, until this afternoon.”
His voice is low and my heart is so full of pain that I don’t say a word in response. I just let him talk. “The day I saw her I drove around LA trying to decide if I should stay. Trying to determine if I could stay with her in the same town. Then I saw you walking out of the office and I had no doubt—I wasn’t going to leave California because of her. I didn’t have to. I felt nothing for her. But I knew I was going to stay because of you.”
“Jagger, I can’t do this. I don’t want to be the rebound girl,” I say in a low, squeaky voice.
“You are not a rebound. I love you,” he says stressing every word.
“But, Jagger, by definition, I am. Don’t you see? Jump out of one serious relationship into another—that’s the definition.”
“Jules and I had a different kind of relationship. It’s not in the least bit comparable to what you and I have.”
“Jagger, come on. We haven’t known each other long enough for you to know that.”
He scrubs his eyes. “You’re wrong. It’s not about the length of time, it’s about the way we feel when we’re together.”
“That makes no sense. You wanted to marry her. You obviously felt something profound for her.”
“Aerie, yes, I loved her, but all I’m trying to say is it was different. I did buy a ring, but I never asked her to marry me. I just couldn’t do it. Something about it didn’t feel right.” He takes a deep breath. “All she ever cared about was herself. It just took me a while to see it. She was going on more and more auditions. She’d become preoccupied with getting the next big role, but I never knew at what cost. She was up for a lead that she really wanted. She flew out here for a few days and when she came back she was a wreck. She didn’t get the part. I had to work late but got to her as soon as I could. When I did, she was a drunken mess. And, fuck, you want to know what she was upset about?”
I shake my head. His gray eyes are stormy and the pain on his face is excruciating. “That she’d let the director fuck her and didn’t get the part.
“I was done the minute she told me, but she wouldn’t let it end that easy. She pleaded forgiveness for what she called a momentary indiscretion. When I looked into her eyes that night all I saw was how selfish she really was. She had betrayed me and there was no taking that back.”
My heart aches for him but despite that I now know for sure what I am—I’m the rebound girl, and I have to get out. “Jagger, we’re over. I can’t do this.”
He rises to his feet. His jaw, his entire body, even his stance tightens. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Aerie?”
I nod, unable to talk.
“I haven’t been seeing her. Fuck, I told you I didn’t know she would even be there.”
I stand up and put my hands on his chest. I can feel his heart beating. Willing the tears to stay tucked away, I take a deep breath and know I have to let him go. “I’ll never be sure about us anymore, I don’t even think you can be sure, and I can’t live with that.”
His body tenses even more beneath my fingertips. His eyes start to swirl—stormy gray again as he stares at me maybe waiting for me to take it back, but I can’t. It’s true. It’s how I feel.
There’s a deep sadness flowing in waves between the two of us. Then, he turns and walks up the steps without another word leaving me feeling numb and alone. I finally let the tears I’ve been holding back fall like rain. And as the flickering of his orange shoelaces slapping against the floor begins to fade away, I’m left standing there staring at his disappearing image through the glass.
Chapter 10
Echo
“You know what they say about staring through the glass.” I keep hearing his voice, deep and sexy. I fluff my pillow and drop my head to it for the hundredth time. Inhaling deeply, I try to catch a whiff of him on my sheets. Even as exhaustion overtook me, sleep wouldn’t come, and daylight arrived way too soon.
As the sun rises, I lie beneath my silk coverlet and close my eyes. Not wanting to start another day, I make myself sit up . . . I have to make myself do this. I have to continue my life as it was before I met him. But everywhere I look, he’s there. I hear his voice, smell the lavender scent of his skin, taste the lime he always added to his drinks. I can see him coming out of the shower—his dark hair wet, his body damp, his arms strong enough to lift me onto the counter in one swoop.
The picture of my grandmother sits in a crystal frame beside my bed with one of my uncle next to it. I pick it up. He has deep tan lines and burnished blonde hair. He wears a look of optimism that doesn’t appear in all my memories of him. I considered how he fought depression his whole life, and wondered if it had to do with Madeline. I hadn’t seen his manic side, but I’d heard my parents talk about it and then I read about it in the movie script. He worked in fits and bursts—writing and recording non-stop for days without sleep. His band members were attuned to his personality and accommodated his needs.
Setting the photo down, I glance at the two twin frames—two people plagued by depression, but who led completely different lives. My grandmother lived in the shadows of her depression, letting it control her. My uncle fought it, only giving in when he could no longer fend it off. But they both died young. Would I end up like them? All alone?
* * *
I’d told Jagger about Levi, but not the whole story. The only person who knows everything is Dahlia and maybe that’s why she’s always so accepting of my quirks. It’s not a time in my life I ever want to relive. The summer after I returned from Laguna, the summer after I lost my virginity to Levi, I spent a lot of time dwelling on the events of that summer. I had withdrawn even further into my own shell and my parents were concerned. My mood swings got worse, my anger spilled over into our conversations, and all I wanted was to be left alone. I pretended to be sick as often as I could. My grades were dropping because I just couldn’t focus. I had lost control of my life. This went on for about six months until my parents became so worried they took me to a therapist. With medication and many hours of therapy, I found myself. After six months of sitting in my psychiatrist’s office twice a week, I rebuilt a life I could control. Routines that I didn’t deviate from—ever.
I knew I needed structure and stability. That was who I was—until Jagger. I let him in, I let him alter my behavior—change how I approached life, and I found I liked who I had become. I liked living in the moment, having fun, departing from the predictable and mundane. But I shouldn’t have let it happen. I knew what worked for me. So as I set my feet on the rug beneath me, I am determined that today Alice is gone and Aerie is back—not because she wants to be, but because she has to be.
* * *
The traffic is ridiculous this morning. When I’m finally a few blocks away from the office, I glance at my watch and wonder if it’s too early to call Dahlia. I reach across to the passenger seat and pull my BlackBerry from its case. The screen doesn’t light up. I never even used it yesterday and it must have died. It’s so unlike me to let that happen. Dahlia is the one either with a dead phone or without one. Plugging my phone into the power cord connected through my console, it flashes and finally lights up. Two missed calls and a text from Jagger.
I listen to the first call and the sound of his voice affects me immediately. “Hey, Alice, guess what? Brett just called and he’s doing a round table casting at two. I guess one of the potential leads dropped out and he wants me to come in. Wish me luck. Oh, and it looks like I’ll be wearing a turtleneck because I’m not sure how well that hickey you gave me will go over.”
I touch my neck where he sucked on it. Then I scroll down to the second call as the tears I promised myself I wouldn’t cry prickle my eyes.
“Hey, baby, the audition was amazing. But listen I’m on my way over. There’s something I wasn’t expecting and I want to tell you about it person. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours—it’s not really that big of a deal, although I think you’ll . . . you know what, never mind. I’ll just tell you about it when I get there. And, Aerie, I love you.”
Oh God, my cries turn into sobs—he really didn’t know. The traffic starts to move and I wipe the tears from my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I call Dahlia.
“Hello?” she says not sounding well at all.
“Dahlia girl, it’s me. Are you still sick?”
“Hey, Aerie, I don’t feel that great. I threw up again this morning.”
“Have you taken anything?”
“River just went to the store to get something to settle my stomach. Is everything okay?” Her voice is soft and as I listen to her, it hits me.
“Dahlia, are you pregnant?”
“No! God, no! I’m on birth control,” she laughs.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I think I just ate too much junk food at the game the other night or, who knows, maybe I have food poisoning.”
“Well if I were you I’d call that husband of yours and ask him to pick up an EPT test instead of Pepto-Bismol.”
“Right,” she laughs. “Did you call for a reason or just to harass me about overeating?”
As I pull into the parking lot of the business center, I push my reasons for calling aside. “Just wanted to say hi, but I’ll call you later today. I just got to work and I’m late.”
“That’s not like you. What’s going on?”
“I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, but please do.”
“Oh, and Dahlia, call River.”
She hangs up without a goodbye and I just stare at the blank screen. Then I notice the text.
At 1:53 a.m. from Jagger:
I’m going to give you some time, but we’re by no means over.
Sitting alone in my car, I contemplate texting him back to tell him how much I miss him. But I promised myself I would get out of this relationship before I was in too deep and I know I need to stick to my promise.
The elevator door dings on the tenth floor and as I exit I realize how exhausted I am. Feeling preoccupied, I don’t even notice Shelly approaching me.
“Good morning, Ms. Daniels,” she says, stopping to look at me.
“Good morning, Shelly. Any messages?”
“Yes, a few.” She hands me the newspaper and a handful of pink colored rectangular pieces of paper.
“Thank you. Anything urgent?”
“Umm . . . I’m not sure. Are you okay?”
“Yes, why do you ask?” I manage a small smile.
“You’re wearing jeans. You never wear jeans to work.”
I shrug. “I didn’t feel like dressing up today.”
“Well, you look incredible as always. And I love your scarf,” she remarks.
I nod a thank you. With my head pounding, the lack of sleep quickly catching up with me, I hustle down the hallway so I can sit down. Through the open door, I see Kay packing up some boxes. She’s wearing a loose fitting canary yellow dress with matching shoes. Her hair is down and the color of her outfit makes it look even redder.
“Moving day?” I ask.
“Not quite, but soon. Damon tells me everything should be ready by the end of the day. Not that I haven’t enjoyed rooming with you,” she jokes, “but I’m ready to get my own place.”
I laugh. “I understand.”
“Oh, by the way, Jules got a call early this morning. Final screen tests are today. She’s on her way now. I’m just so excited for her. I really think she’s going to get the part. And she thinks her old boyfriend, you know the guy she was auditioning with yesterday, is a shoo-in for the lead as well. Maybe my little sis will find true love with him again.”
Setting my things on my desk, I blink at her without saying a word.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
“Yes, I just have a headache.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you want some Tylenol?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Well, I’m sneaking back over to the WB this morning. Want to come?”
“No, thank you. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Okay, I’ll be back shortly. I really think I should have held out for a job in Hollywood. I just love movie sets and movie stars,” she says with a wave of her hand.
I furrow my brows wondering for the first time why she took this job and if she’s planning on sticking around.
* * *
I spend the morning keeping busy with small easy tasks that, once complete, give me a sense of accomplishment. My hand keeps flitting to my neck—to the scarf he bought for me and the spot it covers that he marked as his own. I just can’t stop thinking about him. When I grab the newspaper, my messages fall out. I quickly look through them, stopping on the one from Madeline Grayson. It says, “She’d like to talk to you if you could give her a call.”
Without even thinking, I reach for the receiver and dial the number on the message slip.
“Oh, that was so much fun,” Kay says, slamming her purse on her desk as she enters the office.
I set my phone back in its cradle and calmly ask, “Did she get the part?”
With a smile she says, “Well, I don’t know for certain, but I’d say that director would be crazy not to cast her.”
Resentment runs through me, but it’s not her fault. I know I should have told her yesterday that I knew Jagger. Well know isn’t even the right word, that I was dating him—dated him? That I love him—loved him? I don’t know why I didn’t tell her anything.
Falling into her chair, she sighs. “Even auditioning with someone she didn’t know, she was so believable. It’s too bad her ex-boyfriend wasn’t there for the final casting. They would have been amazing both on and off screen. Oh, well.” She shrugs. “True love comes and true love goes. Isn’t that what they say?”
“I think so.” I swallow the bile down.
“Back to work,” she smiles.
My head is spinning. Why didn’t Jagger go to that audition? What does Madeline want? I push away from my desk and stand up. “Kay, I’m running out. If Damon asks where I am tell him I had some things to take care of out of the office.”
“He’s off somewhere with Ivy so don’t worry about him,” she says with a scowl.
I swear I hear her mutter “asshole” under her breath and wonder why she has a sudden dislike for him, but then again maybe she finally realized what he’s like. I shrug the thought off. “Call me if anything pressing comes up.”
She chews the tip of her pencil. “Of course. And, Aerie, if I were you I’d go home and get some rest. You really do look flushed.”
* * *
I decide to go see Madeleine in person, and drive up to her house at lightning speed, entering the neighborhood where my uncle used to live. Memories flood my mind of the times we spent together and again the tears that won’t stop flowing down my cheeks.
Drying my face, I grab my purse and walk up the driveway. I had heard Madeline and her husband divorced a few years ago and I also know that Levi hit the road earlier this year with his band. He’s running small circuits—clubs mostly, but doing okay from what I’ve heard.
My heart thumps uncontrollably as I ring the bell. The door swings open and there she stands. She looks as beautiful as she always did.
“Mrs. Grayson,” I smile.
Her eyes widen as soon as recognition crosses her face. “Aerie, oh, Aerie, my dear. I’m so glad you decided to stop by. Come in.”
I step inside and a shiver runs through me when I see the same couch I so easily gave myself up on.
“How are you, Mrs. Grayson?”
“Aerie, please call me Madeline.”
I nod.
“Would you care for some coffee or tea?” she asks.
“Tea, please.”
We make small talk while she prepares a pot of tea and then we sit outside on the deck. The cool breeze sweeps over us and I let it wrap itself around me, breathing life into any otherwise lifeless day. I chew my thumbnail, not sure of where to start.
Pouring the hot water into a small white porcelain cup, she says, “I know you’ve been contacted about the script changes. Brett told me he was sending them on to you.”
“Yes. I have. Is it true?”
She takes a shaky breath. “Yes it is. I loved your uncle very much and we would have been together if it weren’t for the fact that he was afraid of his mental health.”
I select a teabag from the tray in front of me. “Madeline, I’d love to hear about your relationship with him, if you don’t mind sharing.”
Sipping our tea as the ocean dances before us, we sit for hours and she tells me how she fell in love with my uncle the first time she met him. How she and her husband, although married on paper, lived separate lives. How she wanted to divorce him and be with my uncle, but my uncle forbade her from doing that. She told me it wasn’t until he was diagnosed with cancer that he told her why. She had always thought he loved being a bachelor, the freedom to go wherever he wanted and be with whomever he wanted, but that wasn’t it at all. He was afraid his depression would take a turn, like his mother’s had, and that she’d be stuck taking care of him.
Another wave of tears escaped me and I gave up trying to stop them. I was able to see my uncle through her eyes as a man who loved a woman he was afraid to have. A man who distanced himself from her out of fear of what he might become. Her words tore at me—I had done everything my whole life to avoid ending up like my grandmother and now it was those very same decisions that were sending me down that same path.
When Madeline excused herself to refill the teapot, I quickly pull out my phone and type a text to Jagger.
I really need to talk to you. Tell me where I can meet you.
I wait for a response, since he usually answers immediately. But there is none.
“Here we go,” Madeline says, setting the silver tray down.
We talk a little while longer as I listen for the text that never comes. She tells me why she and my uncle never told me about their affair. She explains that my uncle didn’t want me to think badly of him for being involved with a married woman and he was afraid that my parents might not let me spend my summers with him if they knew.
She also tells me how hard it was for her when he died—how she’d lost her best friend and wanted so much to talk to me. But she promised my uncle she wouldn’t. She finally divorced her husband and has refused to move because she feels close to my uncle here.
“The only reason I called you today is because I knew the biographers over at Warner Bros. were writing me into their movie. They promised to change my name and alter the details if I’d share the story with them.”
I look at her stunned. “Did you?”
“Fuck, no. I told them to go fuck themselves.”
My tears turn into laughter—she says fuck like my uncle used to. I grab her hand. “Madeline, I think you should share your story. It’s a true love story, not the one they’re fabricating and I’d be proud for the world to see it.”
With both of us sobbing, she nods her head and agrees.
Shortly after the sun set my phone beeped. I stole a glance. A text from Dahlia—I’d read it later. I give Madeline my full attention as she tells even more stories about my uncle. But when her voice starts to get shaky, I know we are both emotionally drained. As I stand to leave, she pulls me to her and hugs me tightly. “You’re a beautiful woman, Aerie. Your uncle would be so proud.”
“Thank you,” I manage, staring out into the ocean I haven’t swum in since that last summer.
She studies me. “Aerie, this isn’t my business, but I want you to know that after your uncle died, Levi had a tough time as well. He grew up with your uncle. And he told me what happened between the two of you.”
My pulse pounds as embarrassment rushes to my cheeks.
“I’m only telling you this because I know he feels so much regret for having hurt your feelings. He told me he told you he used you. Aerie, I didn’t ask for details. But it wasn’t true. There are some things a mother doesn’t want to know, but he did tell me what he said to you. Your uncle helped him every chance he could, but Levi wanted to make it on his own. He loved it when your uncle would sing his praises, but would never take his help. I urged him to often; after all, everyone needs a helping hand, but Levi was stubborn . . .”
I stop listening as I try to remember that summer. How much he worked and how odd I thought it was that my uncle could only help him get gigs at small functions. It all made sense now and, not that it should matter anymore, but knowing that he refused my uncle’s help does matter.
After spending the day with Madeline, I drive away from the south bluff feeling a sense of peace I’ve never felt before. I think it comes from knowing my uncle was happy—that he had found true love. His version may not have been like in the movies, but it was the way he chose to live his life and I can accept that.
It’s dark as I drive down US 1. I glance over at the ocean and up to study the stars, shining like little diamonds. Suddenly, I remember my grandmother reading me a book and after closing it glancing up at the sky, “See those shining lights?” she asked. “Whenever you’re sad, wear something that sparkles and think of the stars and the sadness will be gone.” My hand moves to clutch the colored glass necklace that hangs around my neck, one of hers, and I suddenly understand why she had such a vast collection—she was looking for happiness with them.
But I don’t have to look for happiness in her costume jewelry collections; I have someone who makes me happy. I just have to make it right with him. I’m not sure I can fix what I’ve broken between Jagger and me, but I know I can help him. So I pick up my phone and select Brett Hildebrandt from my list of contacts.
“Hello?” he answers on the second ring.
“Brett, it’s Aerie Daniels. I got your package yesterday.”
I explain that I won’t hold the script up in court as long as he does two things for me. First is to tell the real love story that my uncle and Madeline Grayson shared and second to allow Jagger Kennedy to come back in and audition for the role before he makes his final selection. Of course, he agrees to both.
When I pull onto my street, I see small flickers of light lining the walkway to my front door. I park in the driveway, curious about what they are. When I get out, my heart stops. Cupcakes are on both sides, but not just any cupcakes—Sprinkles black-and-white cupcakes with candles in them. I follow the glow up to my front door where a sign reads, “Alice, I take full responsibility for what happened.”
I enter the house cautiously as my pulse races. His boots are on the mat that he never uses and when I glance up I see his blue quilted vest on the hook. On the first step is a cupcake with a small note—“Eat me.”
I can’t help but giggle—in the movie Alice grows larger than the house when she eats the cake.
One step at a time, I move forward. Once I reach the top I see a bottle of water, and another sign—“Drink me.”
Again I giggle and I don’t care that I do—Alice shrinking so small that she fits perfectly in the house is giggable stuff. He has the eat me and drink me reversed, but I don’t care. I have to find him. I see a glow from under the door to my room and when I open it, he comes into focus. With his arm wedged against the frame, the first thing I see is the upward tilt of his full lips and without a moment of hesitation, I crash my mouth into his. I’ve missed him, everything about him, and if he can forgive me for my actions, I want him back in my life.
He pulls away. Breathless, he asks, “Did you miss me?” like I was on an overnight trip and just got back.
I know I couldn’t possibly love him more than I already do. More tears fall from my eyes and I just don’t care. I trail my fingers over his smooth pale skin flecked with slight stubble, up his sculpted nose, and through his dark brown hair that always looks like he just rolled out of bed. Staring at him, I think: This man is my version of perfect.
“Yes, Jagger Kennedy, I missed you.”
“How much?”
“Very, very much.”
“Are you sure?” he asks with that a smoldering grin that I can’t resist.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I answer.
“Good.”
He places small gentle kisses on my lips, my jaw, my neck. In turn, I kiss his mouth, his stubble, and the spot I marked just a few days ago. Passion and desire pool within me. He pulls away and his eyes sweep me. Then he pulls me to the bed and onto his lap.
“We need to discuss a few things,” he mutters in between his kisses.
“I know,” I answer kissing him back.
“First, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say my voice breaking on the words.
“Second, I love you.”
I giggle. “Is there a third?”
“Yes, I love you. Do you get it?”
“I get it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Listen, Aerie, I talked to Dahlia and she told me . . .”
He tells me he told Dahlia and River about what happened between us and that Dahlia told him what happened to me after that summer with Levi. I tell him about Madeline, about my call to Brett, about my fears concerning him and his ex-girlfriend, and about my fear of things I can’t control sending me into a state of depression. We talk for almost an hour and he eases my fears. Jagger has a way that calms me.
“Why didn’t you go for your final test today?” I finally ask.
“You know why.”
“I do and I want you to play that role so I got you a second chance.”
He shrugs off my attempt to reschedule his audition, but I insist that when Brett calls him, he go in.
“Shh . . . no more talking about the movie,” he says. Then he slides his hands down my arms to lace in my fingers. “I think we have other things we can talk about.”
“Like what?” I breathe over his lips, my body already flushing in anticipation of what’s to come.
With a sexy smoldering grin, he says, “Tell me what you want.” Even before I answer, his fingers move under my silk blouse and make their way to my breasts.
Without any hesitation I tell him. “I want you to make love to me.”
“What else?” he asks.
“I want you to make me come over and over.”
“I can do that,” he says with an upward tilt of his lips.
Once we’re both naked, his mouth finds my slick flesh and he proceeds to do just that. We spend the night making love. And with our rhythm never faltering . . . we find our own perfect harmony.
