Chapter 26
Chester
I gripped the armrests on either side of the cream leather seats, my knuckles turning a shade of white as the plane began rumbling down the runway.
“You’d think you would be used to this by now,” said Will in amusement as he looked over at me from his own seat, a glass of bourbon in hand.
“And you’d think it would be too early for that.” I nodded toward the amber liquid that swirled around in the glass tumbler he held.
“It might help your nerves.” He raised his glass and took a sip. “Plus, who knows what we are walking into back in New York. Drink up.”
I rolled my eyes, letting out a small chuckle.
He was right. We had no idea what was going to happen once I returned to the city to face my blackmailer and Juliet.
Both had my stomach racked with nerves. I was thankful Will had ended his Vegas trip early to fly back with me, even if he was getting pleasure out of my fear of flying.
The plane began to gain speed, the rumbling of the plane smoothing out slightly as the blur of the runway flashed by the circular windows of the jet.
It was a small jet, one I had acquired two years ago to make traveling easier, more comfortable.
If anything else, it at least helped my pride of not having to show my fear to the other passengers in first class.
Finally, the runway began to fade away as the plane ascended into the clear blue sky, and I was able to calm my nerves slightly.
The takeoff and landing were the worst parts.
Now, I could settle into my seat and try to rest for the five-hour trip.
My sleep had been restless and short for the past week, ever since I had received that email.
Ever since I had pushed Juliet away because of it.
I leaned my seat back and closed my eyes.
“So, what are you going to say to Juliet?” asked Will.
I opened one eye, annoyed at the interruption.
“Hello? Trying to sleep here,” I said, closing my eyes again and settling my hands over my chest.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “You are going to see her tomorrow…”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got it figured out,” I lied.
“Liar,” Will muttered.
I propped myself up on my elbows and glared at him as he sat smugly in the seat across from me, halfway through his bourbon.
“Not everyone is a master with words,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We can’t all be songwriters.”
Will laughed, his eyes crinkling around the corners as he lifted his drink and took a long swig. “True. Very true.”
A thought striking him, he reached down and pulled his leather duffel bag on his lap, unzipping the top. He rummaged through it, guitar picks and strings falling out, until he produced a notepad, followed by a pen.
“Here.” He tossed them both toward me. “This might help.”
I looked down at the yellow pad of paper, the corners turned up and the pages slightly worn. I could see where the pen had left impressions from Will writing songs and melodies.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I said, arching a brow, and feeling like an imposter holding an artist’s canvas.
“Well, that’s a pen,” said Will sarcastically as he pointed to the black ballpoint pen that lay on the pad of paper. “You have to take the lid off and then you can do this thing called ‘write’ with it.”
I gave him a vulgar gesture, and he laughed out loud.
“Write your feelings out,” he said.
I twisted my mouth to the side as I weaved the pen through my fingers thoughtfully.
“My feelings, huh?” I asked, mostly to myself.
“You do have them. You were able to tell me how you felt about Juliet. Now, you can tell her. Writing it out helps. I swear.”
I stared down at the page before popping the top off and securing it on the bottom end of the pen.
It was worth a try. I might not be able to write a poem or a love song like Will could, but I could at least try to write something that made sense.
If anything, I could write a termination letter.
Though, it was the last thing I wanted to do, I knew Juliet could no longer work for me.
That is, if she had even stuck around. I hadn’t heard from her in days, but could I blame her?
Will settled into his seat across the way, finishing his bourbon, and grabbing one of the folded blankets in the side storage.
He draped it over himself, and closed his eyes, passing out almost immediately.
I envied him for doing exactly what I had wanted to do five minutes ago, but now my mind was racing with words that sounded stupid.
Curse you, Will.
I pressed the ballpoint to the page, watching the black ink spread slowly before I dragged the pen up and down, between the lines.
Every word I wrote seemed wrong, and I spent most of the next half hour crossing each one out.
As smooth as I was as a businessman, knowing how to charm and shmooze any top-level executive, I was failing miserably at the whole feelings thing.
I tried writing a letter to Juliet, but it ended up sounding like a novella my grandmother used to read.
Then I moved onto listing all the things I liked about her, which made me feel like I was in elementary school.
My last attempt was writing down all the reasons why she could no longer work for me, but if I were to turn it into a letter of termination, human resources would definitely have some questions for me.
I sighed frustratedly, looking over at Will, who was sleeping with his mouth slightly agape and a loud snore escaping his nose every thirty seconds or so.
I took the pen in my hand and tossed it at him, it landing with a thump against his chest. He sat up startled, looking down at the pen that slid into his lap.
“What the hell?” he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“You can’t just tell me to write my feelings and then pass out, asshole. I need you.”
He reached down and pressed the button on the side of his seat, bringing him upright.
“What do you have so far?” he asked, extending his hand in a “give me” motion.
I reluctantly handed it over.
Will squinted as he looked over the few pages I had destroyed with scribbled out words.
“Hmmm…” he said, scratching the back of his head.
“I told you I’m not good at this…” I groaned.
He flipped back to the first page to the letter I had written Juliet, though almost all of it was crossed out, except for the part that said I was falling for her, and had been since I met her.
“This is it?” he asked, raising a brow.
“It’s all I could think of.” I shrugged.
“Then it’s all she needs to hear. You don’t need me writing your words for you. Not for this.”
“You’re not just trying to go back to sleep?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Well, yes. But I do think it’s good as it is. Sweet and simple. To the point. It’s like a song with a catchy chorus that you can’t get out of your head. Don’t complicate it.”
I laughed to myself. Of course, Will would turn it into some musical metaphor.
He grabbed the blanket and brought it up to his chin before readjusting the seat to as low as it could go. I tried to relax, do the same as him, but sleep never came. My thoughts kept drifting over to Juliet and how I would be seeing her in less than twenty-four hours.
I may have my feelings sorted out and written down, but there was a chance she might reject me, or not even listen.
I tapped my foot anxiously, staring out the window to the world that seemed so far away.
I had almost forgotten that before I spilled my feelings to Juliet, I still had to face whoever was blackmailing me.
As pressing as the issue seemed, Juliet trumped my thoughts.
So much so, that by the time my jet landed at JFK, I was about to crack from my impatience and buildup of feelings I had been stewing in on the long flight.
Stepping off the plane with Will behind me, I inhaled deeply, the familiar air of the city filling my lungs. I missed it.
“Good to be home,” said Will, slapping my back as he adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder.
I nodded. Walking down the steps down to the tarmac, I saw my limo waiting.
“Need a ride home?” I asked, as Will stepped down onto the tarmac next to me.
“Yes, please,” he said, his face looking less haggard and colorless from his wild night before. The sleep helped his hangover, along with the early morning hair of the dog he had drunk. His phone rang just then.
“Hello?” he answered as we made our way to the limo, my driver rolling my suitcase behind us.
“Mhmm. Yes. That’s great!” exclaimed Will, looking wide-eyed and excited. “Talk soon.” He hung up and I looked at him curiously.
“What is it? You look like you did after that threesome in Vegas.”
“This is better…” He smirked. “That booking agent who got me the gig last night said the crowd loved me. He wants to book more shows spanning all over the U.S.”
“Shit, man,” I said, slapping his back. “That’s awesome.”
He nodded, the look in his eye saying his mind was whirring with possibilities, and his dreams coming to fruition. Too bad he was in New York to help me clean up my mess and step in if I needed him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t get that far. I wouldn’t let it get that far.
On the way to Will’s place, which was on the way to mine, we talked more about the phone call and what the agent had told him. It was a nice distraction from what had consumed my thoughts on the plane. I congratulated him again as he got out of the limo.
“Good luck tomorrow,” he said, leaning casually through the car window.
“I’ll call you if I need you,” I said.
Will nodded, tipping an imaginary hat before heading into his brownstone.
As I entered my own apartment building ten minutes later, I stepped onto the elevator and leaned against the railing, exhausted from the travel day.
As I gripped the cool metal, I looked around the small space and thought of my first night with Juliet.
I bit back a small smile, remembering how she had dropped to her knees and practically swallowed me whole.
I leaned my head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator and closed my eyes at the memory.
I could feel a slight twitch against my slacks.
This girl had me turned on and she wasn’t even here.
The doors slid open to reveal the large entryway of my apartment washed in hues of purple and orange and pink, signaling the end of the day. I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing, reminding me that I was alone. Juliet had been the last person here with me, and her memory was everywhere.
Against the pillar there.
Draped over the leather couch there.
Pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window there.
Sat upon the granite counter there.
I shook my head, scattering the memories as I left my suitcase in the foyer and strode down the long hallway to my bedroom.
It was exactly as I had left it, and my bed was calling to me with its plush duvet and large pillows.
I walked past it toward the bathroom, in need of a hot shower to wash the day away.
As the bathroom filled with warm steam, making it hard to see, I stepped into the shower and let out a satisfied sigh as the hot water ran over me. I ran my fingers through my hair as I looked up toward the falling water.
Even a shower reminded me of Juliet, and the first time I had laid eyes on her.
I imagined her smooth legs, slick with water, propped up just so on the edge of her tub, revealing the most intimate parts of her.
As one hand supported me against the white tiles of my shower, I slid the other down my slick abdomen, further down, until it reached my cock that was already hard with thoughts of Juliet’s naked body.
I wrapped my hand around the base of my shaft, slowly moving it upward until it squeezed the rounded tip.
I stroked back downward toward the base, increasing the pressure of my grip as I imagined Juliet’s hand wrapped around me.
I groaned at the image, her soft fingers curled around me, strumming me into a beautiful harmony.
I tilted my head back, letting the water stream down my face as I moved my hand faster up and down my length.
Precum was already beading at the tip. I imagined Juliet’s mouth, her tongue moving expertly along the base as she took me fully in her throat.
I gripped the wall tighter, my other hand moving faster until my balls tensed and released, my cock throbbing feverishly in my hand as I moaned Juliet’s name aloud.
How the hell was I supposed to let this woman go?