Chapter 39
PIA
“Jesus, woman,” Jon says and slams his hand on top of mine, stopping my tapping fingers. “Take a breath.”
“You take a breath,” I say across the passenger seat, but then immediately, I switch my gaze to the window, watching South Los Angeles fly by.
We’re moving at a speed you can’t take for granted in this city at this time of day, but it’s still too slow.
Just like the last three weeks have been way too fucking long.
“Tell me why I agreed to share a car with you?”
“Because you like my sparkling company and pretty blue eyes.”
I itch to tell him that his blue eyes are nothing compared to Cassie’s. And as much as I love him, I’d swap an hour with Cassie for a lifetime in his presence.
“You’ll be there soon,” Jon says, and he squeezes my fingers. “Stay cool.”
I groan, which is considerably better than thumping him across the chin – what I actually want to do. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I say, and it feels like a confession.
“Maybe not,” he says distantly. I turn back to him. He’s also staring out of the window now.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jon. I’m a fucking bitch, and I can’t believe I only have ten days with her, and I’m so angry about that but also so fucking happy that I get that much. And I am so fed up of feeling all these different, conflicting fucking feelings.”
I ball my hands into fists and slam them down on my legs.
Jon’s response is a light chuckle and a sympathetic smile. At least I think it’s sympathetic. “See, this is why sobriety is overrated. All those feelings…” He pulls a hipflask out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “Nasty business.”
I could grab the flask out of his hands. I could take a swig and let the burn wake me up then numb me down. I could switch off some of the noise in my mind and the pain in my heart.
But I don’t.
“I just can’t fucking wait to see her,” I say.
“I know,” he says and nods towards the window screen. “Nearly there.”
“What do I do if it’s not enough?” I ask him, referring to the ten days I have with Cassie. At least, I think that’s what I’m referring to.
“Then you’ll come up with something else. You’ll make it work. You’ll get what you want.” He leans closer, tucks the flask away. “Because Pia Lindberg always gets what she wants.”
I smile at him, even though I am pretty sure what he just said was a big fat fucking lie.
Turning my head back to look at the traffic on I-110, I bite my lip and try to ignore my racing heart. I also don’t push Jon away when he finds my hand and holds it for the rest of the journey.
I’m out of the car before it stops moving. I’m rushing up to Cassie’s front door, not giving my luggage or Jon a second thought. I lift my hand to knock on the door or to pound my fist against it, but it moves before I make contact.
And there she is.
Cassie.
Blonde waves falling around her pretty English rosebud face. A white dress and a cream cardigan that swamps her. Her floral scent hitting me like a wave of heaven.
Like a literal angel.
I dive in, my lips finding hers. Then her hands are around my waist, and mine are on her face. She stumbles back, and we’re pressed up against the door.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I question what the driver must be thinking, if he’s going to tell some crappy gossip rag. If my lack of self-control is what undoes us. But even with that devastation a possibility, it wouldn’t stop me doing this.
Every single breath I have taken since I last kissed Cassie has been for this moment.
Every note I’ve sang. Every guitar chord.
Every autograph I’ve scribbled in a book or on a poster.
Every can of Coke I cracked open instead of stealing one of Jon’s beers.
Every time I hit Jakob for farting, Geert for belching or Jon for scratching his nuts while right in front of me.
Every single mile covered in our bus. Every flight.
Every single time I’ve climbed into a cold, empty hotel bed.
All of it has been so I can be back here and kissing Cassie Everard.
The relief of her body pressed up against mine. The sweetness of her heat and softness. The thrill of having her moans vibrate into my mouth and down my throat…
“Ahem!” Jon clears his throat very, very loudly. Most of the time, I love how much my hearing aid helps me, but this is one moment where I am not at all grateful.
Cassie turns her head away, and I reluctantly pull back, not without licking my lips to taste her on my lips, where she fucking belongs.
“I’ll just leave these here, shall I?” He gestures to my suitcases and duffel bag, which he’s clearly gotten out of the car and hauled over for me.
Cassie ducks out from my hold and walks up to Jon with her hand out. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she says, as polite as a fucking librarian. “Cassie Everard.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Jon says with that boyish grin I’ve seen work so well on all ages and genders. But much to my delight, Cassie seems oblivious. “Jon Davies.”
“Thanks for getting my bags,” I say, leaning against the door frame and crossing my arms. “You can fuck off now.”
“Charming,” Jon says, laughing, and nods at Cassie. “I don’t know what you see in her.”
Cassie looks back at me, but doesn’t say anything. I hold her stare, telling her all the million things I want to do with her once we’re inside her house, alone. I’m hopeful she’s picked up on a few of them as she turns back to Jon.
But then she speaks, and I am apparently very wrong.
“Would you like to join us for some tea? I have PG Tips tea bags,” she says, and a slap around the face would have been more welcome.
“No, Jon, can’t stay,” I say quickly, striding towards them both.
Jon glances at me mischievously, and I mouth all the curse words I know in Swedish, Dutch, and English as he catches my eye.
“Yes, unfortunately, Jon can’t stay,” he says. “But maybe I could come round for a cuppa another day?”
“That would be lovely,” Cassie says, and that’s it. I am absolutely going to punish her for this behaviour. With orgasms. “We’ll call you.”
“We won’t,” I add.
“Yes, we will,” Cassie says, and she taps Jon on his upper arm before grabbing my duffel bag and throwing it over her shoulder. I step in before she has her hand around one of my suitcases.
“Get inside, Miss Everard,” I say warningly.
Her cheeks blush pink and her eyes sparkle as she raises an eyebrow. “Or what?” she whispers at me.
“You two have fun,” Jon says as he walks backwards to the car.
“Oh, we will,” I call out to him, every word dripping in innuendo.
“Ha! Never change, Pia.” He blows me a kiss.
“Buy some new socks!” I yell.
“Will do. And you watch out for those pesky feelings!” he shouts back, and then he’s in the car and slamming the door shut.
“What was that about?” Cassie asks with a frown.
“Nothing,” I say, and before she can see the colour in my own face, I turn and drag my two suitcases into her house.
The door has barely closed behind her before I’m on Cassie again.
“I want you,” I say before she’s even kissing me back.
“My God, Pia, I’ve missed you so much,” she says with a sigh.
Her hands get lost in my hair as I make her walk backwards towards her stairs. We pass her music room on the way, and I’m flooded with both memories of me eating her on the piano and the way she sang ‘Trying to Forget You’ to me.
It’s still so foreign to me to feel both desire and affection for someone.
For the same person. It threatens to knock me off balance as we reach the staircase, but I don’t let it.
Instead, I dig deep, find all the physical strength my body has after three weeks on the road and far too many cans of Coke and cigarettes, and I bend down and scoop my arm under Cassie’s legs.
“Jesus, Pia, what—” she exclaims, but then I’m kissing her again.
I keep my mouth on hers as I carry her up the stairs and into her bedroom.
It’s an effort, and I’m pretty sure I pull something in my back as I throw her on the bed, but it’s also a fucking gift.
It’s also what I want to do one hundred more times in my life. No, a thousand.
She pushes up on her elbows and stares back at me. “Pia,” she says, out of breath just like me. “You look…”
“Hungry?”
“Yes.”
“And happy?” I ask because I have never known such happiness. I have never before felt happiness pulse in every cell of my body. Just to be in the same room as her. Just to be breathing the same air. Just to have her looking up at me like I am the sun rising after the darkest night.
“Yes,” she says, and her own smile grows. “You look very happy.”
“Are you?” I ask because that is the only threat to my happiness in this moment.
“Pia, I feel like I’ve waited a whole lifetime for this moment, not just three miserable weeks.”
I climb on top of her. She instinctively opens her legs to make space for me. Keeping my arms straight, I hover above her.
“Have you really been miserable?” I ask.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she says, but her smile betrays her. And I know exactly what she means. That bittersweet sense of something missing, something to mourn, but also the undeniable thrill of having someone to miss, someone to live for.
“Kiss me,” I say in response, because I have pounced on her twice in the last half hour and now I need her to show me just how much she wants me.
Her hands are quick to cradle my face, and I am yanked down onto her. Our mouths find each other and I lose myself in kissing her.
So hot, so wet, so sweet, I almost forget that there is more to Cassie than her mouth. I’m so consumed with the joy of our dancing tongues that I forget I can have more, until more is all I want.
I sit up, straddling Cassie, and I pull my leather jacket and T-shirt off. I’m not wearing a bra, and Cassie’s eyes immediately light up as soon as she sees my breasts. I shift to the side so I can pull my jeans and underwear off, and I give Cassie enough space to do the same.