Hearing her say the name of some guy she banged pisses me off.

“I slept with him because I knew, at seven ten p.m. on Sunday night, my father would call.”

I have no idea what the fuck that has to do with anything. I look at her as she peers up at me, Emerald City hidden behind a curtain of dark brown locks.

“I told Jones to answer my phone, and he did, and then … Well, then my father flipped, and I didn’t deny what a sinner I was, because I didn’t care. I didn’t care, because everything he said to me was a lie. And then do you know what happened, Memphis?”

God, the need to comfort her is overwhelming. “I think so, Tales.”

“He died. He died a week later of a heart attack because of me.”

“He didn’t die because of you.”

“Did so.” She starts pacing again. “So I’m a terrible person. Even worse, because then I agreed to a vacation, knowing damn well you’d be there, and I basically prayed you and I would … you know.”

I needed a better fucking explanation to what she was talking about. Was it was revenge, was it the fucking fantasy? “Because I’m getting famous. Because I’m a bunch of chicks’ fantasy, because—”

“Because you’ve been mine since the day you pushed Johnny Stone down when he was picking on me, then just kept walking. Because you always did things like that. You were merciless at times, but I always made myself think it was because maybe, just maybe, I was your fantasy, too. I know how stupid that sounds, but you were nice to me. You didn’t judge me; you stuck up for me. When everyone else picked on my clothes, you complimented them. You watched cartoons with me and Madison. You still call my T-shirts vintage and make them seem cool, but they are not, Memphis. They’re hand-me-downs or thrift store finds. Did you know that the only clothes I have ever worn that were new are my underwear?”

I shake my head no in answer.

“In my very lonely childhood, you were ever-present. You were my fantasy first, so yes, yes, I knew. Hell, I even pretended I didn’t know you were going to be there so Madison didn’t see through me, because she has a tendency to do that, you know.”

I nod.

“But when you came out with those two girls, all I could think about was my mother and how disappointed she would be in me, and I don’t like to disappoint people; did you know that? Did you know that, Memphis?”

“Yeah, Tales, I knew that.” Even as a kid, being the better dancer between her and Mads, she stepped aside and let Mads play lead in every little backyard production they ever gave my mom. Same thing with her parents, Tally toed the line. She was the perfect kid.

“Then I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t, because my fantasy—the Memphis who was always my knight in black leather and ink—said things to me that, even though I didn’t know I wanted to hear them, affected me.”

“Tales—”

“Please don’t say anything. Just kiss me or push me against a wall or let me go down on my knees for you again, because I don’t wanna think. I want to feel.” She steps forward and grabs my shirt. I see her mustering up courage before she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and leans in.

“Can’t kiss you, Tales.” I step back regretfully.

“Then let me kiss you,” her eyes and voice plead in unison.

“No, I can’t allow that, either.”  Someday I will laugh at this, but not now.

She nods. “I understand. I do. I understand. I mean …” She turns her back to me, and I hate it. I want to see her eyes.

I grab her hand. “Look at me, Tales.”

“I don’t need you to make this okay for me. I just need you to be okay and accept my apology. I need you to soar.”

“Turn the fuck around,” I growl. “I won’t soar alone, and I sure as fuck can’t do it with you right this minute.”

She does, very slowly, asking with a whisper, “Can you forgive me?”

“Tell me what you want from me.”

“To forgive me.”

“Done, but I need time to process it all. What else?”

She shakes her head, her face flushed red.

“Need time for that, too.”

“I understand. Be happy, okay? Be happy and be safe.”

“Tell me, Tales.” I see it in her face, I just need to hear it and I really need her to say it.

“I did.”

“Fuck that. Tell me the truth about us, Tales. At the very least, tell me the truth about what you want from me.”

“Fine!” She slaps the tears now falling down her face. “I want you to trust me and know I would never avoid telling you the truth again. And not just for you, for me, too, because it hurts right here.” She holds her hand over her chest. “I wish I had kept you a fantasy because it hurts too much right here.” She hits her chest harder now.

“Don’t do that, Tales. Jesus.” I grab both her hands in one of mine.

“I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you, and—”

“Don’t you say that shit to me right now,” I snap at her, and she looks scared. “Fuck!” Forever Steel equals forever fucked right now. Dammit!

“Sorry, but I had to tell you, or if you’ll let me, I’ll show you.” She has just opened up completely to me, and I can do fuck-not about it.

“Can’t let that happen now, either.”

She nods and sniffs loudly. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just—”

I take her hand and shove it down the front of my pants. “Feel this, Tales, but be nice.” I push her hand farther in, and she gasps.

“What happened to you? Do you have a—”

“I liked it, so I put a fucking ring on it.”

“What?” She almost laughs the nervous laugh I enjoy so much.

I pull her hand away. “It’s a dolphin”—I almost smirk—“topped with a prince. Google it then call me in about four to six weeks and tell me what you told me a few seconds ago.

“Fuck fuckity fuck!” I turn to walk away and stop. “Go eat dinner with my sister!” I bark “Fuck, Tales, I have to get out of here.” I turn back and kiss her. Can’t help myself, but it’s quick. “Don’t ever keep shit from me again.”

“I won’t, not ever.”

Damn right you won’t, I think. “Tales?”

“Yes?”

She is smiling, and I know she expects me to say the words back, but that’s not going to happen right now. I have got to be pissed, or I’ll never have the upper hand.

“Next time you see me, you’ll be on your knees, and I’m gonna be so backed up you’re gonna have to chew my come before you swallow it.”

I Googled dolphin and prince as soon as I got home from dinner with Madison, which was a couple of hours later. We had a lot to talk about.

Offensive!

Intimidating!

Interesting …

And …

Intriguing.

Madison sends me a text three days later. Memphis doesn’t.

It’s a partial tour schedule.

I swallow hard and have to sit down as I read over it, then send back a text.

That’s amazing! He deserves this and so much more. Is his hand okay? Is he healing well? Is he resting? That schedule looks grueling.

She doesn’t respond. I look at the phone for a good two hours, waiting.

There’s a knock at the door, and I open it.

“Tales?” the deliveryman with a huge basket full of white Gerber daisies asks.

I nod and smile. I even laugh as I take them.

“Thank you so much.” Then I hug him. Why? I have no idea.

“You do know they’re not from me, don’t you?” He looks confused.

“Yes, yes, of course I do. Sorry.” I shut the door because he starts to look at me funny, and not funny as in ha, ha. Funny as in creepy.

I carry them to the table, set them down, and grab the card.

It reads:

Heads, you stop worrying. Tails, keep that shit up. It makes me happy. Either way, Tales wins- MB