24. Mari
Ireturned to my physical self, breaths rasping, a sensation of swollen dizziness in my entire body. He had brought me to the couch. I was loose-limbed, warm, and satisfied.
I rubbed a hand up my neck into the damp hair at my nape. I lay with my body spread out on the couch, Leo looking down at me with that same look of awe that made me feel like the most incredible person on the planet.
“That was...” No words could possibly express how hard it was to get me to orgasm normally, let alone standing up. But there was no challenge when it was Leo doing the work. I had been correct in my assumption about his dexterity.
I flushed, the reality of the situation threatening to make it awkward. Except it wasn’t. Leo looked at me with primal longing, making my body feel things it never had. He’d delivered on my internal hypothesis better than any of my fantasies. He’d played me expertly, found the tempo of my body like a musical virtuoso, but didn’t leave me feeling like an object. He ran a hand over his face as he continued to watch me closely.
He was studying me for signs of regret, his features tortured with concern, not to mention the painful bulge nearly eye level, left ignored.
He wouldn’t suffer a moment more. I reached for his jeans. He stepped back. “I’m okay. Are you?” he asked.
I nodded and sat up on the couch, legs tucked, back arched.
“This is . . . it will go down,” he explained.
“Did you enjoy watching me come?” I asked bluntly.
He swallowed. “Yes.” His voice rasped.
“I want to be able to see you now. There’s no honor in keeping that from me,” I said. I looked at where he subconsciously palmed his length. Just seeing the outline of the hardness pressing against the jeans sent a fresh wave of desire through me.
The last of his modesty groaned away as he carefully but quickly tugged himself free of his jeans.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, licking my lips and sitting up more.
“You’re doing it. Just look at me like that.” His motions started smooth. I watched, mesmerized, as his thumb rounded over the tip to smear his precum. Slow and smooth at first, his hand roughly jerked himself. His beautiful cock was on full display as he abused it, his stomach muscles flexing with the exertion and focus. I felt beautiful as his gaze flicked over every part of me. I boldly caressed my body, thinking of the areas he touched me moments ago, remembering the pulse of pain and pleasure right before my orgasm, tweaking my tender nipple.
“Yes,” he gasped.
His legs widened, and his strokes grew faster. He panted and made a sound of concern. I quickly grabbed a nearby tissue and handed it to him. The tips of my fingers dared to reach out and tease the area just under where he stroked without getting in the way. I lightly explored where his hand wasn’t, cupping his balls and applying pressure just behind. Boldly, I leaned forward to barely tongue his leaking tip.
“Mari,” he gasped and moved the tissue in time as I leaned out of the way, biting back my smile.
He stumbled forward, and I held on to his waist to help him balance.
I grinned up at him, and after a shake of his head, he blinked starstruck down at me. His smile rioted my heart.
We cleaned up and met back on the couch without speaking. He opened his arms, and I tucked myself against him as though we’d done it a hundred times. We had gotten more free with our touches these past few weeks, but nothing like this. Obviously.
“I was right,” I said eventually. “I like your focused faces.”
He chuckled with a groan, hiding his head in my hair. “Let’s hope that Devlin doesn’t have hidden cameras in here.”
I sat up and looked wide-eyed at Leo. “You think he would?”
“Probably not after this.”
I laughed, and it was my turn to hide my face.
“I’m kidding. In the tour, he mentioned that he always wanted to make sure the bands felt free to create without the pressure of being watched. And with zero risk of anything being leaked early. He’s big on privacy.”
“You know, I got that impression,” I said.
We sat in silence for several minutes, neither of us ready to pop our bubble of contentment. The room seemed to soak sound up, and it was a new, restful type of quiet.
I looked back at the drum set, remembering how gorgeous he looked as he played, how in his element and in his body he’d seemed. He was far from the man who seemed to feel out of place everywhere he went. He was talented, wonderful, and sweet, and this growing sensation in my chest started to drown my lungs. I couldn’t ruin this for myself. I wouldn’t ruin it for him. I calmed my thoughts.
“Do you miss playing?” I asked softly.
“More than I thought I did,” he admitted.
“Why did you stop?”
A long exhale escaped his chest, lifting and dropping my shoulders with it.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I’m just trying to sort out my thoughts,” he admitted.
I smiled to myself at his vulnerability. He was one of the most open people I’d ever met, and I could kick my former self for misinterpreting his care and deliberateness for lying or self-centeredness.
“I have nowhere else to be,” I said and turned my head to kiss his still bare chest. I liked the little bumps that formed at the gesture.
“I think I associated the drumming with all the bad parts.” He hesitated again, but I waited patiently. I would always be patient to hear his whispered confessions. “The fighting. The stress. The way it all ultimately ended.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been punishing myself on some level. I didn’t feel like I deserved to play for how things ended.”
My heart twisted for him and his pain. I knew this man so well now. I understood what an intensely giving person he was for those he cared about.
People like me. I closed my eyes and stayed focused on the now.
“How did it end?” I asked tentatively. “Since, you know, I’ve signed the NDA and all that.”
His laughter rumbled through me. “They kicked me out. Like I said. I walked into rehearsal one day; we were halfway through the tour, and the moment I entered the room, the truth was on all their faces before I spoke.” His swallow was audible behind me.
“How could they do that to you?” I shook my head.
“I deserved it,” he admitted. I turned to study him as I pulled up my knees to tuck under my chin. There was no way this man who cared for me when I was sick, who had infinite patience for Cath and my antics, could ever be so bad that he got fired. It was incomprehensible.
He must have seen the confusion written all over my face.
“I was...I didn’t like fame and touring. I didn’t like anything about it except when we played music. But I hated how claustrophobic I felt as our fame grew. We got big pretty fast.” He huffed a laugh. “It was all Vander and I dreamed about for so long, and then we got it. We were selling out shows, being featured in prestigious online music magazines, and being used in movie soundtracks. The faster we grew, the less authentic anything felt. The same mindless interviews. The screams of ‘take off your shirt’—by the way, I only take off my shirt because I hate the way it feels when I’m sweating.” I nodded. He would never do that to be some sort of sex icon. Now, at least, I understood. “The relentless schedule was the hardest. We never had a break. We never had downtime.”
“Even doing what you love, what gives you life, you still need a break,” I said.
“The record label didn’t want us to be forgotten. We had a social media person tour with us, and we went viral.”
I’d seen the short videos he was talking about, fan edits of him and Vander looking absolutely delicious. It didn’t hurt that they were incredibly good-looking in addition to having legitimate talent.
“And after a couple of years, I realized I hated it. All of it. Even the touring because we didn’t have the space or freedom to write new stuff. We were always on someone else’s schedule. Even saying it out loud makes me sound like such an asshole. I should be grateful, but I was exhausted.”
I wrapped his arms around me like a blanket. “I couldn’t last as long as you did.”
His sigh ruffled the top of my head. “Vander was never happier. He was living his dream. And that’s what kept me going. I would think about being back in Green Valley and how badly we’d wanted to get out, and it would keep me focused. But then, I don’t know. It started to catch up to me.” He swallowed again. “I started having panic attacks before shows. I stopped going to the scheduled press stuff. I had this temper...You talk about having a temper, but it’s nothing compared to my fits. I wasn’t sleeping or eating. Everything felt like it was closing in on me. I just broke down. I threw my sticks in rehearsal one day and kicked over a set I was using. Thousands of dollars of damage. I was acting like a spoiled rock star. That part was true. That video of me walking off in the middle of a show.” He groaned and rubbed his face. “Someone threw something at me. They don’t show that in the clips, but I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I should have just told security and had them escorted out. PR tried to downplay it, but the next day, I walked into the room and got fired.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I couldn’t say anything to change what had happened, but I could be here now.
I felt him shake his head. “I’m just ungrateful.”
“No, you’re not. I think sometimes we think we want something, romanticize it so much, that when we get it, there’s no way it won’t disappoint. You had a bad moment. And unfortunately for you, it was caught and posted online. I’m trying to imagine a video montage of all the times I lost my cool. It is way worse than yours,” I said. “No matter what you say.”
His head was shaking, brow furrowed. “You’re so wonderful, Mari. So determined and sure of what you want. It’s inspiring. Drumming was my life for so long.” His voice shook. “Sometimes...sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore without it.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
I grabbed his face until he looked at me. “You are many wonderful things. You also happen to be a great drummer. It’s part of you, but it doesn’t define you.”
His gaze moved over my face. “I never understood why you wanted me to help Cath. I knew my reputation preceded me. Especially out here. You had to have seen the footage.”
I swallowed and looked up at him. A growing realization about Leo settled the anxiety in my bones, growing like a cold mist. I reimagined every interaction we’d shared since the beginning. His mom mentioned his sensitivity when she asked me to reach out to him. Now, it might feel like some sort of betrayal. He couldn’t understand his inherent value. Leo had lost his self-worth along with his band. If Leo found out this arrangement was all due to his mother’s suggestion, would it hurt him unnecessarily?
I chose my words carefully.
“I saw your skills. Cath idolized you. Devlin and your mom highly recommended you. I wanted to do what was best for Cath. There were so many reasons. And today proved that you brought out something in her that none of us could.”
He searched my eyes as I spoke, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded against my hands. “It did feel good hearing her play like that today. I wonder why she holds back so much,” he said.
“I’d wondered that too.”
We were silent for a few minutes as he watched our hands toying with each other.
“Okay, I’m just going to say one last thing, and I promise I’ll drop it,” I said eventually.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he said teasingly.
“Fair.” I poked him. “Sorry. I just...can’t stand people not talking about stuff. Vander should know all this stuff you told me about the anxiety and fame. I think, as someone who cares about you, that I would want to know.” He sighed, but in a dreamy way, when I admitted that I cared about him. Of course, I did. “It might not change what happened, but it might help you both at least start to restore your friendship. I think you miss him more than you want to admit.”
He nodded, mouth tight and eyes squinting. I put a hand on his cheek.
“It’s your decision. But it might help you.”
“Yeah. You might be right.”
I fell into his arms. God bless men who listen to women.
“But let’s circle back to you caring about me.”
I rolled my eyes as he stopped to kiss me before losing myself to him once again.