Synister: The Push Series - Book 1 (11 page)

Sitting in the low lighting of a really sub-par hotel room, I began to realize I was a shitty friend. Sure, I tried to be a good guy and be there for her, but as the last three years came into focus, I could only count on one hand the number of times I had seen her in person. Why? I mean, we talked all the time, but about this and that. Nothing of substance. I had become so wrapped up in myself that Brooklyn was just there. She was always there, but at arm’s length. And whose fault was that? Mine and solely my own. I rested my head on hers, needing to get a little shut-eye. When she woke up, the pain was going to be very real. By that time, the reality would have sunk in. Royce was not coming back. She had no home to go back to because that jerk had kicked her out. I had a plan. I had already decided that she was coming home with me. Push was starting to do some arena venues, and I had an apartment for the next six months, rent paid in full, in L.A. that B could hang in. She needed away from Royce and everything that reminded her of him in Atlanta. It all sounded perfect. The decision was made, but convincing Brooklyn was not going to be as easy.

When my eyes opened, I checked the time on my phone, five-forty a.m. Brooklyn was still asleep, and so were my legs. Shifting her off my lap, I pulled her tight to my chest and then propped myself up on my knees. Luckily, the beds were not those super high mattresses, so I was able to get her on the bed, giving myself leverage to stand up. Righting myself, I slid her further onto the bed, knowing she was going to be out for a couple more hours. Brooklyn was not, and I mean
not
a morning person. I, on the other hand, was awake before the sun and never really slept well.

I needed a shower. I had flown straight to Vegas when she called, so I still had sweat and grime, not to mention airplane funk on me. Pulling the blanket at the bottom of the bed over her, I placed a kiss on her forehead and headed to get cleaned up. After grabbing my bag that I had chucked by the door after my grand entrance, I entered the bathroom. I didn't dare turn on the light in the room, so luckily, there was a vanity light in the bathroom. Stripping out of my Docs, jeans, T-shirt, and flannel, I made a giant pile on the floor. I turned the faucet to the hottest setting I could and stepped under the water. It was still early, so the hotel hot water was in full effect. Grabbing the soap, I washed my body, hair, and face before you could say
triskaidekaphobia
, the fear of the number thirteen. Not sure why I knew that, but I did. Chalk it up to random shit in my head. There was no time for dilly-dallying or taking care of some
personal
needs while enjoying the hot spray of the water on my back. Sitting for hours with B on my lap while she stretched and nuzzled into me had my dick thinking this was sort of a twisted game of
You want that. Nope. Can’t have it
. What I wanted was to rub one out and release the pressure from the valve so to speak. This was about Brooklyn. When I turned off the water, the entire room was completely steamed up, so I reached my hand out to grab the towel. When my skin connected with another person, I almost pissed myself. I threw the shower curtain back, and there standing in front of me was Brooklyn. She was completely naked except for black lace and leather panties.
Fuck my life
. Neither of us moved.

“Um, what the fuck are you doing?” Not the most romantic thing to say to a half-naked woman, but I was startled, and my game was not on point.

“I was going to join you, but then you turned off the shower.” Brooklyn just kept her eyes on the floor. My confident, powerful girl was gone. Standing before me was not my Brooklyn. Royce had done this to her. He had made her question herself. In that moment, I didn’t know my next move, but I did know that I would find his candy ass and pummel him into the fucking pavement. I was going to get her back, one painful step at a time. Being the person who was not very good at making the right decision, choosing to be the good guy in this moment was beyond painful. I wanted nothing more than to take her into that shower and prove to her that I was everything she needed. That I would worship her in ways that Royce could only dream of doing. Mentally, Brooklyn had
been
mine for over a decade. Physically, she was never mine. I wanted nothing more than to make up for lost time. Dammit, she was perfection. She was everything I needed and nothing I could have.

Reaching for her, I ran my still waterlogged fingers down her arm. When she shuddered and her breathing increased, I knew this was wrong. She would never forgive me for this, if I were ever able to forgive myself.

“B, look at me. Not like this, baby, please.” Reaching for the towel, I placed it around my waist before I lost every ounce of resolve to stop before it got started. With the towel in place, offering a barricade to my now throbbing dick, I placed my finger under her chin. “Look at me.” When her eyes raised, they were again filled with tears. I pulled her body to mine, focusing on her bare skin against my chest. She was pure, no scars or ink outlining a roadmap to a shattered soul. I had often dreamt about that moment and how she felt against my body. She fit perfectly against my chest, and her shoulders were the perfect distance that I could entwine myself around her, essentially melding her body and soul to mine. It was as if I were holding my heart in my hands. “Come with me.”

I lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Sweet Jesus, if it weren't for that towel, I would have lost the battle with my need, and she would have been backed against that marble wall and full of every inch of me until I was sated or she begged me to stop. I kept saying over and over in my head,
Keep it together, dude. You do this, and you will have fucked everything up for eternity. There will be no going back after this.
Thank God the bathroom door was open because I never took my hands off her. She placed her head on my shoulder, and neither of us said a word. Reaching the bed, I laid her down ever so gently, turned off the light by the bed, and then curled up next to her. I rested my arm over her shoulder, making sure to come nowhere near her bare breasts. As if her ass being inches from my crotch wasn't enough, I didn't need to intensify my agony by feeling her soft skin under my fingers. Brooklyn settled into sleep easily while I was as stiff as a two-by-four. I had my world within my grasp, but the timing was dead ass off. Story of my life.

I had no idea I had fallen asleep, and when my eyes opened and I reached across to an empty bed, my heart sank.
She had left. Dammit.
I sat up on the mattress like a rocket was up my ass and then heard her laughter. Turning to my right, she was seated next to me and was staring at the television in the room. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I knew we were headed for a breakdown when I noticed she was wearing her wedding dress.

“Hey, sleepy head.” As Brooklyn stood from the bed, the skintight mermaid dress showed off every asset that had been pressed to my body hours before.

“You know I hated this dress. I wanted a simple dress and a beach wedding. Nothing fussy, but Royce insisted on the big wedding. Fuck, Syn, I didn't even know half of those people.” Pulling at the fabric on the dress, she added, “This was never me. All this bling. Jesus, this thing weighs a million pounds. I always wanted simple, Syn. I wanted the wedding to be about us. What we were committing to each other and not all the excess. I guess it’s a good thing he left me because I don’t think I could have kept up with him. I am not that girl. I tried to be her, and it never really felt right. Like I was living someone else’s life. A lie I guess you could say. I tried to be true to myself, but I started to lose sight of who that really was. Royce kept telling me over and over the last six months that I needed to get
my shit
together.” She sighed, and her shoulders slumped forward. She was so defeated from fighting this internal war that it was beginning to show on the outside.

“I was not keeping up with his needs. Seriously. Sexually, I was not what he needed. He wanted a baby, Syn, and I wasn't ready. I am not someone’s mother. I wasn’t ready. There was so much I wanted to do with my life. Plus, I wasn’t sure I could handle being responsible for another person—you know what I mean. If I take a look back on it all now, I guess it had been coming for a while, but it still sucks, though. Reality fucking sucks. I can’t decide if I’m mad that it is over, or that I led myself to believe that it ever really was.”

Okay, now I was one hundred billion percent for all that was holy going to find that dickbag and kick his ass for talking to her like that and making her feel worthless. I knew all too well what verbal abuse was, and Royce was going to have a convo with my fist before this was all said and done. Brooklyn pushed herself off the bed, squared her shoulders, and said, “Marry me, Syn.”

I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.
This was not happening.

“Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to marry me. Come on. We’re in Vegas. I already have a dress.”

Jesus Christ, was she serious?
Tread lightly, Syn.
Swinging my feet around and placing them onto the floor, I reached for her hand, and as she sat next to me, I knew the next words would change my life.

“Brooklyn, look at me.” I took her face in my hands and forced her to look at me. “You know I love you, baby girl, but I can’t do this. Every part of me wants to tell you yes. To wrap you in my arms and marry your mind, body, and soul to mine.” Her eyes never left mine, nor did mine from hers. “You want some help with that?” I asked as I watched Brooklyn put her arms behind her back, trying desperately to reach the dress’s zipper. She jumped and shimmied around the room with a determined scowl. One minute we were arguing, the next she was asking me to marry her, and now I was thirty seconds away from helping her undress.

“No,” she said as she continued to writhe around. Finally, reaching exhaustion, Brooklyn threw her arms to her sides, and in a huff she stopped moving and looked right at me. We were at an impasse. Something had to move us forward.
I
had to move us forward.

“You deserve better than me. Look at me, Brooklyn. You deserve everything I’m not. A guy that will come home to you every night, not one that is on the road. You deserve a heart that can love you for everything you are, not a heart like mine. It is killing me to see you like this. Every part of me wants to make this better. I have always and will always want to make everything perfect for you. It’s what you deserve. You have no idea how much I wish I were able to give you what you should have. If that were my reality, I would marry you in a minute. Hell, I would have married you years ago, but you know I can’t.”

As Brooklyn brought her hands to mine, I brushed my thumb over her cheek. When she squeezed my hand, I had to break the connection. She leaned up on her toes and placed the most delicate kiss on my lips. “I know. You have no idea how much I wish it could be enough. You can’t blame a girl for asking, though.”

As her hands left mine, she turned around and pointed to her back. Placing my fingers on the zipper, I took great pleasure and time pulling the zipper and exposing her bare flesh inch by inch. When the dress fell to the floor, she stepped out of the pool of white. I watched her walk away and enter the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do. I just had everything I wanted, and I turned it away. When I heard the water start, I threw myself back onto the mattress. I was breathing too fast. I closed my eyes and could see every hit, every hateful act from the man who broke me. In my life, I never thought I could have hated him more for what he did to me. When the reality of saying no to her sank in, I hated him more. He was the reason I wasn’t whole and couldn’t have a life. In that moment, I wanted him dead for not only what he had taken from me as a child, but for what he was denying me as an adult.

Brooklyn
- Glitter, Girls, and Decisions

Present Day

Tonight’s show was awesome. No, it was epic. Bally’s was packed, and there was just an amazing vibe among all the girls. I think they were happy to have me back, if only for one night. When the show finished, there was a rush of activity with all the girls headed down the tiny staircase to the dressing rooms. The thumps and clicks of all the heels off the wooden steps sounded like a pack of wolves. Taking the steps with ease, I realized my first time back in six-inch heels in over two months was like a newborn deer getting his first lesson on how to walk.

I could not help but think how we looked like a group of crazed fangirls rushing the stage at a concert. We were covered in glitter, double-sided tape, and nylon. The sounds of conversations, pep talks about the show, and plans being made for the after-party filled my ears and made me sad. It was humbling when you experienced joy, pleasure, and knew that it would be the last time that you got to do something. I was going to miss this more than I wanted to admit. I had to keep telling myself that I had bigger plans for my future. No matter how hard I tried to convince my heart that saying goodbye was the right thing, it didn't feel right. They had no idea I was not coming back. There was zero chance I was going to make it through that conversation without tears, so I lied. I told them I would be back next month, and that was that. Knowing I was doing the right thing did not stop my mind from capturing every moment in slow motion. The way the girls looked, the laughter, the smells of perfume and sweat. The sparkle of the sequins and rhinestones. I knew I would never forget them, but it was time to close this chapter. I had something waiting for me that would need my full attention. After all, I had waited so long to admit that I needed him that I was not going to get in my own way for another minute. We had spent a decade being our own biggest problems. Now that the roadblock was gone, it was full steam ahead.