Page 36 of Imperfections Seduced
“Anything. I’m not picky.”
“Good, because the only music you’re going to get tonight is from my phone. There should be something on it you’ll like; you know I listen to a little of everything.”
“I remember some of the stuff you listened to was really out there.”
“You didn’t give it a chance.”
“I did. The only reason you even listened to most of that crap was to appease your girlfriends of the moment.”
“I’ll admit sometimes I did, but some of it was pretty good; it opened me up to a range of music.”
“I’m sure they did open you up to a lot of things. Some of your choices in girls were questionable. Remember Tara, the punk rocker chick? There wasn’t one time I saw her and she didn’t look like she was going to a funeral, all black from head to toe. You could have done better.”
I haven’t thought about Tara in years. She had a bad attitude, and she smoked half a pack a day, among other things. There was something about her no one else could see. She didn’t give a damn what other people thought of her. She was wild, and yet with all her bad habits and faults, she still looked like a supermodel. We ended things the day I helped her check into rehab. I saw her brother a year later, and he said she was doing well. Enrolled in college and everything. We were friends who hooked up once in a while, but everyone assumed we were a couple. “Tara happened in my rebellious experimental stage.” I flip through the music on my phone.
“I remember that stage, it coincided with your skanky slutty phase that lasted into your college years.”
“They were not skanky. They were sexually liberated and ahead of their time. We should not persecute them for that freedom and question their right to be loose with their bodies,” I say with all seriousness, looking at her.
“Oh, gimme a break! You are so full of shit.” She laughs and I laugh with her.
“Yeah, I am.”
“So what range of liberating music are you listening to these days?”
“Mostly music that expresses the mood I’m in, like Mikky Ekko.”
“Mikky Ekko? The guy who sang that song with Rihanna?”
“Stay.”
“Yeah, that’s a nice song. I didn’t know who he was until I saw a video clip of them performing somewhere. I love his voice, but I’ve never heard any of his other music.”
“He sings more alternative music; you’re not really into that. You’re kind of musically oppressed, unlike me, who is more open-minded, like my girlfriends of the moment. See what great talent you miss out on when you’re not as liberated as the rest of us?”
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. I roll my eyes back and we smile.
“I have a couple of his songs on here. Listen to this one, since you like his song with Rihanna, you’ll like it. It’s called, ‘Pull Me Down.’ It describes the mood I’m in these days. I think you might be able to relate to it too.”
“Really?”
“Really, just listen to it. It’s a good song.” I turn the volume up, go to my playlist and press play. I lean back and keep my eyes on her when he starts to sing, careful to watch every expression that’s on her face to every word he sings.
When the song stops, she lifts her head up, looks at me, and pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and slowly releases it. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. I wish she would tell me what she’s thinking.
“So what do you think?”
“It was beautiful.”
“Can you relate? I know I can. He’s saying all the things I want to say to you.”
She closes her eyes, takes a breath, letting it out shaking her head.
“Cat, I’m sorry for not being able to show you howmuch I cared for you, the way you cared for me all these years. For hurting you, for not making you mine when I had the chance. For caring too much about what someone else would think. You should have been the one. Youarethe one.”
“Don’t do this to me, Nick.” She leans back, opening her eyes slowly.
I reach across the seat to take her hand, turning it over and tentatively stroke the palm before I lace our fingers together. Her skin is so soft. Closing her eyes, she parts her lips. God, I want to kiss her and run my tongue across her lips. Take her inside my mouth, taste her with our tongues intertwined, dancing around each other in sweet, hot wetness. “I have to.” I place the palm of my hand against her cheek. “Catherine, look at me.”
