Teenage groupie….XXIII

The guys were kind enough to escort me to Lance’s door and promised to be close by in case anything went remotely wrong.

As they pecked me goodbye, wishing me luck, I felt a sudden urge to cry out a soft squeal for help but I tried to restrain it, swallowing deeply. I watched them walk away in despair, and then AJ walked back a few steps and kissed me again on the cheek. “Good luck, Nikki. You can do this, I know.” He rubbed my hands to comfort me as he geared me on.

I forced a smile back concealing the pitter-patter going on in my chest. ‘Thanks. Thank you, it feels so good hearing that from you,” I said shutting my eyes. He hugged me again, just before he watched me use the key to enter Lance’s suite.

Lance’s suite was a total replica of the one I had met him in, same size and shape, and furnishing arrangement. Except that it had green curtains instead of purple and a fake painting of Mona Lisa adorned the wall instead of the Chinese symbolic painting that had haunted me in the last one. It had a narrow corridor that led from the door into the room with the beds to the right.

I decided to shred the rose petals and line them on the corridor path leading up to where I intended to stand, at the end of it, just in front of the huge curtains by the window facing whoever was to come through the door. I slotted in my CD to set the mood right, praying silently inside that this wouldn’t end badly.

Soon enough, I heard the cell phone chirping, informing me that he had been sighted on his way up to the room. I tossed the phone away from me and walked to my vantage spot, fidgeting at a suitable standing position.

“Oh God, let this work…please let this work…I promise not to ever hurt any other man again as long as I live.” I swore inside me, biting on my lower lip in panic. I heard the keys crackling as he opened the door.

The door opened and Lance entered in a casual outfit of light blue jeans and a Lakers windbreaker covering up an “I’m a hottie” snug red tee shirt underneath. His hair was in place. His highlights gelled and spiked to reflect his boyishness. He looked gorgeous, good enough to eat. His eyes instantly went to the rose petals trailing the floor. I could tell from the distance that he was surprised. He took off his Lakers windbreaker and tossed it in the closet to his right as he continued to follow the petals.

“Calm down Nikki, Calm down, you can do this.” I calmed my jumpy nerves. I could feel my temperature raise a few notches just by his nearness.

He walked slowly into the room, with curious shaky steps; his fragrance soon filled the room drowning out mine. Out of panic I pushed play on the remote control in my hand and my song, the song I had intended rang out into the room.

…But my love is all I have to give/without you I don’t think I can live/ I wish I could give the world to you/ but my love is all I have to give/”

The familiarity of the lyrics made him smirk to him self, as he brushed his blonde hair casually away from his face with his hands, he looked up, and there I was standing with faint tears in my eyes.

He stood still like a mummy, his glittering green eyes locked into mine stunned to break away. Perhaps, in a desperate effort to conceal any pent-up emotions my gesture had evoked, he turned away from me, and looked towards the beds on the right end of the room. He shrugged, saying, “Nice song.” He placed his hands in his pockets in a diplomatic fashion while his grim face questioned my intentions, my presence.

I felt flushed with sensation at his diplomacy to resist, totally unable to speak, I mustered up every nerve inside me to speech. I couldn’t compromise all the efforts that had been done to get me here by keeping quiet.

“I tried to imagine this scene over and over in my head a million times and every time I imagined it I tried to think of a good ending, maybe with you running into my arms and squeezing me with joy.” My shaky voice began, I gesticulated opening up my arms.

“Good thing you didn’t imagine me running away from you,” he replied lightly.

I shut my eyes, and thought, Yes I did imagine that but replying, “No…I didn’t. Because, that would have broken my heart.” I wiped off the tears on my cheeks and forced myself to look into Lance’s eyes for inspiration. Looking into their softness just made me feel worse. “I didn’t kill my father, Lance,” I started to explain.

“I know that. The word got round.” He bit on his lower lip, creasing up his forehead as he examined my face. “You could have told me Nikki…. about your past…you should have.” The honesty in his voice tore me up some more.

I moved an unsteady step closer to him. “I couldn’t tell ME about my past. I had run so far away from it…I didn’t know who I was anymore,” I urged with emphasis, stressing on my words. “But I do now and I want you to know me, to know the real me, please give me a chance.” I placed my hand on my chest in emphasis.

He shook his head, turned away from my teary eyes, stared at the ground in contemplation. “I don’t believe you Nikki,” he spat straight at my face. “To you everything’s a game. You don’t have a heart, you never have. You hurt everything that comes your way and you made me look like the biggest fool on this planet for believing you.”

I walked a few more steps, steadier this time closing the gap between us. “That’s not true Lance, I do have a heart. I do.” I was now standing in his face so he couldn’t avoid my eyes no matter how far he looked away. “If I think back to the only time I ever felt my heart beat…the only time I can come up with was when I was with you, in your arms, listening to you, with you inside me…and I don’t want my heart to stop anymore. I don’t want to live like that anymore…I wish I could hold on to those moments we spent together and keep them locked in my hands forever, so that I can use them when I want…but I can’t, not without you, Lance I can’t.” His eyes floated around the room avoiding my gaze. “Lance, I don’t want my heart to stop beating anymore….and I don’t want to live a day without knowing that I can’t have you…that I can’t be with you…I don’t. I’d rather not live than to live without feeling alive with you again.” I took his hands and placed it on my pounding chest to let him hear the rapid thumping of my heart racing at his closeness to me.

He listened to it in silence and I watched his eyes closely to see if there was a fleeting moment when he would at least consider taking me back. A faint smile began to form on his face slowly and he used his free hand to trace my face, at the streaky line that the tears had made on my cheek. I looked into his eyes, feeling relief at his tenderness, holding onto the fact that someone so dear was touching me sweetly even if it was vaguely for a few seconds. I had never realized how much in love I was with Lance until that one moment.

Pulling me in for a hug, I felt the warmth of his body encapsulate mine hearing his heart thumping through to mine. I held him so tight I almost strangled him with my arms, as my heart gave off a sigh of relief. 

He took my face in his hands and for the first time that night, he smiled into it. “Hi,” he said simply.

I laughed out shyly at his simple response to my anguished love pleas. I guess it meant we should probably start out on a clean slate like it was our first meeting. That was fine with me, I’d take him anyway I could get him. I didn’t want to risk losing him again. “Hi,” I replied. His kiss was the next thing I felt, his warm tongue heating up my lips and invading my mouth. I felt tingly with a sense of déjà vu over the sensual caress of his lethal kisses.

As the kiss intensified, our hearts racing faster with each tussle of our heated tongues, suddenly he pulled away, asking me, “We can do this, can’t we?” He was referring to my age, asking if it was safe to have sex with an underage Nikki. I looked at the time: it was almost 8 o’clock, four hours to my 18^th birthday.

I smiled, coyly. “Common.” I took his arm and led him into the bedroom.

I had my birthday cake sitting on the nightstand with the words, “To Lance, for loving Nikki,” boldly written on it with pink icing, based with fluffy white cream and 18 candles twinkled waiting to be blown out.

Lance flashed me a winning smile when he read the words.

“It’s my 18^th birthday tomorrow. I thought I’d spend it with you,” I pitched in nervously.

“It feels good to see you too, Nikki.” This was his reply. I held him tight as I let those sweet eagerly hunted words sink into my being. He is happy to see me. Lance is actually happy to see me. It sounded so unbelievable that I almost fainted with joy each time my mind recited them.

“I guess I got my birthday wish then.” I pulled away from another one of his luscious kisses.

He licked his lips ravishing the taste of my lips. “You could get more.”

“Oh…now I like that.” I pinched his bottom teasingly, causing him to let out a sinister laugh. I had missed that laughter in more ways than I could imagine.

“Whoa! What happened to the hair?” He exclaimed, pulling the stray strands away from my face.

“Ehm…” I thought hard. “You didn’t like it so I decided to let it go. It’s better this way trust me,” I replied shyly conscious of my fashion faux paux.

“I did like it…but this is just as good.”  He winked. He squeezed me tighter, drawing a sharp breath, he said “ Nikki, I don’t want you to be afraid of who you were or what you’d been through with me, it’s fine with me. And I still want to be with you …but I just want to love you more knowing these things…and knowing you were honest with me about it, okay?” His eyes peered at mine with concern.

I sank into his arms, and buried my head in his affectionate chest. “I don’t deserve you Lance. Really I don’t,” I cried out. He lifted my face and kissed me again. He slowly kissed my mouth, my eyes, and the bridge of my nose, went to my cheeks and then back to my pursed lips.

“You do deserve me but you just don’t know it yet. You deserve more love than you know.”

He was right. I guess you would say Lance was my reward for all the cruelty and injustice that life had dealt to me at such a young age.

As he kissed my face fondly on the bed, I asked, “ Lance…” he murmured a faint reply absorbed in kissing me. “Would you be my date for the prom?”

He laughed aloud childishly at my request.

Part 29...