Chapter Eighteen

Jon left the office and made his way back to her place with every intention of packing up his things and going back to the house. This wasn’t going to fucking work. Why on earth did he ever think it could? They were two very different people for god’s sake.

He almost wished in some way he could go back to the night at Atlantic city, and see exactly what the hell attracted him to her in the first place.
Her tits and pussy you moron. That’s what. You just made the fatal mistake of marrying her.

He didn’t know if he was more fucked off that she thought his career was no better than hers because he didn’t have status and he didn’t have stability as she so bluntly reminded him. Or if it was that she was so blind to see exactly what she was doing and how unhappy she was.

He pulled his denim jacket tighter and fished for a cigarette as he picked up the pace along the sidewalk. She didn’t lack passion, the only time he’d seen it from her was when he challenged her. Part of him liked she wasn’t afraid to tell him where to get off and defend herself, as he could lay money on the fact she couldn’t do that to her father.

It was ridiculous, she could go to med school if she wanted, hell she had the cash. But no she was short changing herself and her dream. People didn’t know what it was like to work for what you really wanted. And he was prepared to do anything, and he meant anything to get what he wanted.

He didn’t need her to get what he wanted. The marriage was sham, and he wanted to teach a few people lessons about who was in control of his life. And that was him. He was lucky that his parents supported his chosen career, but even if they didn’t, he still would have done it.

He found his key and let himself back into their, well her place. Jamming his cigarette out in the sink, he shrugged off his jacket and threw it across the room. Fuck. He should leave, do them both the favor and move on.

He wasn’t going to deny that the physical attraction was there for him with her, she was cute in that girl next door kind of way and when she smiled or god forbid laughed, there was just something about it that got to him. Hell, he’d have plenty of other chicks that could smile and laugh. So why was she any different?

She was smarter in some senses than anyone else he’d met. And she didn’t want him, well told herself she didn’t. Was enough to keep him amused.
Grabbing his duffel bag he started stuffing his clothes inside. The only thing that was pissing him off more right now, was the thought of Doc’s fucking, I told you so face. Fuck, he was going to go and on about this one if they did divorce. It’d been not even a week for fuck’s sake.

He stormed into the bathroom and collected his couple of man products, when the phone shrilled through the apartment. Once he dumped them into his bag he picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

There was a long pause and he was about to give up and slam the receiver down.

“Jon?”

Callie. He hoisted himself up on the counter and rested the phone on his lap. “Yeah, I’m packing now and no, I won’t take anything that’s not mine.” God he wasn’t in the mood for another fight. He had the freaking tour to think about, not this petty shit.

“That’s not why I called dammit. Jon – look…” the long pause again gave him satisfaction. She didn’t want to admit she was wrong.

“What do you want Callie? I think we both made it clear where we stand with each other, don’t you?” Was it her remarks that he’d fail hit him harder than he thought? He wouldn’t fucking fail. But of course that horrible niggling feeling ate at his gut. What if he did fail? Music was all he knew, if he didn’t have a guitar in his hand and wasn’t constantly thinking about what to write or sing next. It would never be right. He was born to do this.

“Jon don’t make me apologize.”

He twisted the cord around his knuckles. “I’m not going to make you apologize, for the first time you spoke your mind. How did that feel?”

She sighed, “I said some things I should have thought more carefully about. I was an ass. And so were you.”

He resisted a chuckle, she was right he was an ass. But he was a right ass. “Am I still movin out then?” he asked.

“Do you want to?”

He looked around the apartment. They were so different, but he was going on tour soon so he’d be out of her hair.

“Depends on you babe. Your place. Can we make this work or not?”

“We’d look too stupid to end this now, Doc – my father…”

“Stuff you’re father Callie. What do you want?” the words just flew out before he could stop them.

“I don’t want to look stupid Jon. I don’t want you to look stupid either.”

He let a low whistle out with his breath. “No we don’t want that. Ok , I’ll stay. You think you can handle hating me but still wanting in my bed?” he smirked waiting for her answer.

“I can try – what? I don’t want in your bed Jon, newsflash, you’re arrogance and cockiness is not attractive to all of us. Believe it or not.” He laughed taking great satisfaction in her sitting in her chair squirming in her seat. As much as their ideals clashed the unstable chemistry between them, was most definitely there.

“Ok, whatever you say Darlin, whatever you say.” He held the phone away from his ear as she screamed at him. He did enjoy winding her up. Maybe if he could enough she’d fight for what she wanted. Who the hell knows.

“Look Jon, just stay… you’re going on tour soon so we’ll get a break and we can just have some space.”

“Ok. I’ll stay. Only because you want me to though.” He bit his lip as she growled.

“You keep on dreaming Rock star –see you at five.”

*click, and she had disconnected the call.

He popped off the counter and placed the phone back into the little cubby hole. He threw his duffel bag down and before he sank into the couch, he flipped the dial on the TV. He rolled on his side and then his back. He grunted when he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Dammit,” he sat back up. Same crap on the TV. Man, he needed to do something. He didn’t know how to sit still sometimes. He grabbed his guitar from the battered case and filched a note pad and pencil from her desk.

He was surprised when he heard keys jingle in the door, in what seemed like an hour later. Fuck, he’d been writing and tinkering for hours. The eight pages of scrawled note pad scattered around him on the floor certainly suggested that.

“Hey,” Callie gentled her case on the ground and shrugged off her coat, slinging it over the arm chair.

“Hey –got a little carried away here.” He went to get up but she waved him back down.

“Don’t move on my account. I need a drink. Want a beer?” she held up the brown paper grocery bag he’d just noticed tucked under her arm.

“Sure.” He watched her make her way to the kitchen and pull out the six pack of beer and a bag of Doritos before returning to the living room.

She’d pulled her hair out let it fall around her shoulders, her cheeks were a little flushed as if she’d ran to get home. Ok, so she was cuter than he first tried to dismiss.

He reached and wrangled a can out of the holder, popping it open. “You don’t have to keep buying stuff for me…”

She did her own and sat down, crossing her long legs as she too, popped the bag of corn chips. “Who says they were for you, it’s been a rough day.” She took a sip of her beer and then a handful of Doritos.

“True, are you still angry with me?” he asked pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Maybe.” The loud crunch of chips and his occasional slurp of beer broke the silence.

“Good, you should be. I was a bastard.” He winked and rested his can on the top of his knees.

“What were you writing?” she asked as she crumpled the bag digging for another handful.

“What these? Just some riffs and things. Nothing amazing – yet.” He looked over the scribbles he’d been making. “Are you gonna offer me some chips, or eat them all?” he teased.

“You don’t deserve any,” she brushed him off and pointed her beer towards his guitar. “Play me something.”

“I want some chips, you’re making me hungry.” He leaned over but she snatched the bag out of his grasp. He frowned and crossed his arms.

“Aw come on now, you don’t want to deprive me of food—I’ll get it off you, if it’s not offered I will use force. Make no mistake.” He twisted around and crawled closer on his knees. But she held them above her head.

“Touch me and die.”

He rested his beer on the coffee table behind him and one swift motion he made a grab for the chips, tumbling on top of her in the chair.

“Hand them over,” he growled bumping his chest into her face as she started to laugh.

“Jon, my beer will spill…”

“”I don’t care about the damn beer, hand over the chips woman.” She squirmed under him so he poked her ribs with his fingers until she squealed.

“Get off me!” she shrieked, “I’m serious Jon if I spill this-“he crawled higher until he could swipe the bag right out of her hand. Looking down their eyes locked, he flashed a victorious grin.

“I told you I always got what I wanted.” Their bodies were pressed tightly against each other as he sank further into her. The pull of the plush chair under them, sucking them in.

“You’re heavy!” she pushed her palms against his belly.

“Oh great, now she’s calling me fat.” He went to twist but his knee only dug deeper into the chair locking them together. As he was still above her he took advantage of his dominant position, hell he’d probably get another slap for this but he was willing to take the risk. He dipped down and mashed his lips against hers. She murmured against him but he didn’t give her chance to take a breath as his tongue plunged into her mouth, then came the thunk of her beer can as her hands shot up into his hair.

Maybe it was still the anger fresh in his mind. He should not be finding her hot as hell right now. He left her lips and trailed down the high curve of her neck. She arched her body further into his. His cock was growing hard under his jeans, as anger and frustration warred with his arousal. The sweet scent of her crashed against him as he popped her first button of her shirt open, kissing into the v of her shirt. He waited for the push, or the slap but it didn’t come.

Well, fuck me.

He went back up to her lips and pushed back the hair from her face and kissed her again. God, if she stopped him now he’d be pounding out an orgasm himself later. The tips of her nipples grew hard against him as he tried to roll her off the chair into his arms.

He pulled back when she murmured. Here it comes.

She looked up him and rested her hands on his shoulders, “I’m getting crushed.”

His laugh came from relief, “we can’t have that now can we?” he shifted himself back and stepped back onto the floor and pulled her up with him, straight into his arms. He needed her not to think, as ten seconds to process this and she’d stop it.

His hands glided up her sides and came to rest on her hips. He needed to take her to the couch or the bed, anything that involved her taking her clothes off. He decided to try his luck with the bedroom and took one step forward forcing her backwards.

“I thought you wanted the chips.”

“Not anymore.” He took another step back and kissed her again. He’d show her once and for all, he’d get he ever wanted. Now, and forever.