WEATHERING JACK STORM
To Marissa, her future seems as mysterious as dusk’s shimmering shadows beneath the surface of the luxurious guitar shaped pool. There was no doubt this could be her dream house, her dream life with the man she loved. Not so dreamy was all that she was beginning to see packaged with him.
The crazy hours of a very active life. The garbage behind the glam. Mostly, a moody and presumptuous rock star whose public persona is opposite of the sweet celebrity she fell for.
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Kicking off her flip-flops, she approached the guitar neck, descended the incline, and sat with her knees pulled up in the inch or two of water.
Her thoughts contorted like the surface reflections, her future seeming as mysterious as the shimmering shadows. There was no doubt this could be her dream house, her dream life with the man she loved. Not so dreamy was all that she was beginning to see that came with him.
The crazy hours. The active life. A loud hoot of laughter sounded over the pounding music as if to enforce this point. The moody and presumptuous rock star.
Scooting up enough so that laying back would leave her head out of the water, she reclined. After staring at the stars a bit, she closed her eyes.
The displacement of water, rippling the ends of her floating hair, was her cue that she was no longer alone. Her lids fluttered open seeing the light behind her blocked by a shadow. Jack eased down, and without touching her, lay back in the same manner.
He was the first to break the silence, a minute, or so into it. “All good?”
The satellites among the stars winked and blinked, and she let a couple of breaths expel. “Sure.”
“It just seems like you’ve been mad at me all day.”
Now she did turn her head to study his profile. “Me? Mad at you?” Emphasizing the pronouns, she looked back to the sky when his head turned to her.
The feel of his gaze roving her face was a physical thing, but the humiliation of last night kept her from meeting his speculative eyes.
“I’m not the one mad, if that’s what you are saying.” His words were quiet, unsure.
“Why would I be?”
“I don’t know!” Emotion clogged her throat, and for a split second, she debated running from what had become a confrontation. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe she always ran when she could.
Damming up her feelings, she struggled to keep her voice from wavering. “It is not fair for you to hold the same shit against me that you have done.”
“It’s true that I was kind of a slut. But I tried not to let it touch Tristan in any way. I thought—I mean—I know he looked forward to spending the night at Liv’s.” Stealing a quick sidelong glance, she pushed on reluctantly spilling her past. “They would plan for two weeks the movies they were going to watch and what they were going to eat. I never thought he wondered where I was.”
A sad sigh left her lips and just as quickly, the confused simmer of emotions boiled over. “But damn it Jack, I was getting mine off a couple of times a month. You can’t tell me you weren’t every damn night!”
“So you are thinking I’m pissed about what Tristan said last night?”
“Obviously you are.”
“I don’t like thinking about it. Hell, I can’t stand thinking about it–”
“You know, I was kind of wild in college, but I never had continuous random hookups until after you. That day with you, I had never had that connection before. And, I made the mistake of thinking it was out there for me again. That fate was not so fucked up to make just ONE freaking man THAT guy.” The years of loneliness converged into this moment as she softly spoke, “I wanted that again, and thought that all I had to do was …”
“Was keep looking until I found him.”
“Why? When you already found him?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t Mariss …”
Now, finally, she looked at him, the anger, and angst in her heart softening with his candor. “I think that is one of the things I love about you. You are from a different world and don’t even know it.”