Chapter 20 ~ Stripped

As much as Jon would’ve preferred proceeding directly to Rachel’s house, after the show came the “after party”.  Many times he could get away with not attending those kinds of things, but since this was his birthday, there was no way to gracefully avoid tonight’s gathering. 

Even if he had been tempted to bail on his band and crew, he couldn’t in good conscience bail on the special guest that had come in halfway through the show and stayed to visit.  California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was a long-time friend whom Jon hadn’t seen in a long time and that left him obligated to hang around and socialize for a bit. 

It had been mercifully short, Jon thought, as far as those things go.  Mandatory cake, a couple of drinks and the necessary chitchat to catch up with Schwarzenegger had totaled a bit less than two hours before they were able to slip out the side door to Rachel’s car. 

Rachel had weathered it beautifully, of course.  She’d always handled his social gatherings with the grace and aplomb of a dignitary, but toward the end she had begun to look a little weary.  Likely unused to the late hours, her eyes had gone a little bleary and her smile sagged just a bit around the corners. 

And, because she was tired, she assumed he was and fussed at him about his intention to be the one driving her car, contending that he must be exhausted after the show. 

“Not as exhausted as you are,” he declared, holding the passenger open with a look that dared her to argue with him.  “Now get your ass in and hand over the keys.”

She did, with only a slight haughty lift of her chin and the “dire” warning, “Don’t ride the brakes, don’t speed and keep your eyes on the road.”

“Yes, dear,” he intoned obediently, negating the meekness with an evil chuckle.  What could he say?  You had to admire a woman who loved her car. 

Jon tossed his bag in the seat behind his and took his place behind the wheel while Rachel appeared to be programming a GPS for him.  It was a good idea, he thought.  If she got too tired, she could nap for a bit on the hour-plus ride, reviving her enough to talk for a while when they got home. 

And – if I’m lucky – NOT talk for a while, too.

He started up the car, appreciating the smooth purr of the engine as he put it in gear.  Venue traffic had cleared by this late hour, giving them a straight shot to the freeway and the deserted streets gave Jon a chance to savor their private little vehicular cocoon.  The typical post-show buzz slowly seeped out of his veins and was replaced by a deep-seated contentment that felt better than anything he could recall in a long time.

Together and alone.  Finally.

“So...” He dropped his had to Rachel’s leg with a sideward glance as he followed the GPS instructions and guided the BMW onto the Interstate. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I really did,” she replied, placing her hand over his.  “I loved hearing you sing Elvis.  That’s one of my favorite songs of his.”

“I know.”  He flexed his fingers, gently hugging her thigh with his hand.  “Me, too.”

“So many people, though.  Does it make you nervous?  I mean, do you get stage fright or anything like that?”

Jon lifted an eyebrow and gave her a sideways glance.  “Did it look like I had stage fright?”

Her giggle was sweeter to his ears than any song he’d ever heard.  And when she squeezed his hand?  He was through the roof. 

Damn, I’ve missed her! 

“Well… no.  As a matter of fact, you looked downright cocky on that stage, but I thought maybe you were faking it.”

He didn’t have to see her face to hear the smile in her teased response.   “You’ve never seen me fake anything, honey.”

“Are you flirting with me, Bongiovi?”

“Nah.  Just stating the facts.”

From the corner of his eye, Jon could see her nod, and he felt her fingers slide between his before she dropped her head against the seat’s leather headrest. 

“It was incredible to see firsthand how all those people sang right along with you.  And the age range was amazing!  I saw high school kids and couples dragging their portable oxygen tanks behind them,” she laughed before becoming quiet.  “You must be incredibly proud.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

This wasn’t really where or when he had planned to have this particular exchange, but his mind made the connection and it seemed like the perfect segue…

“Pride’s a double-edged sword, Rach,” he sighed, grateful for the late hour and nearly non-existent traffic that would allow him to concentrate more on steering the conversation than the car.  “It was pride that let you walk out of my house and, ultimately, out of my life.  It was also my mighty pride that let you get on that plane, so I don’t have much use for pride right now.   I’m more concerned with undoing the damage it and my ego have done to us.”

Her lack of reaction and prolonged silence concerned him a bit, but he didn’t want to go forward without her participation.  If he was going to have to actively pull her into this discussion, he would just wait until they got home. 

Jon had very nearly resigned himself to that plan of action when her quiet response finally came.    

“It wasn’t your pride that pushed me out the door or put me on that plane, Jon.  Those were my own decisions, based on the coping skills I had at the time.  You know what they say…‘when you know better, you do better’.”

He frowned and shook his head once.  “Make no mistake, Rachel, I could have stopped you if I hadn’t been overdosing on pride.   I knew it at the time.  Called myself every fuckin’ name in the book as I watched you climb the stairs on that plane, but I still wouldn’t do what it took to stop it from happening.  I knew right then that I needed to practice what I was always preaching to you – to let my guard down – but I didn’t.  I won’t make that mistake again.”

She turned in her seat, tucking her leg under her.  “Care to elaborate on that?”

Jon withdrew his hand from her lap and absently scraped the stubble beginning to form on his chin before dropping his hand to her lap again.  It was odd, he thought, how his hand resting on her thigh felt so completely non-sexual.  It was just… normal.  Familiar and intimate without any of the tension that sexual contact brought with it. 

Marvel at the normalness of it all later, jackass.  You have more important shit to deal with at the moment.

Pursing his lips, he considered how to best broach the subject that had been the bane of their relationship – Dorothea.  Truthfully, it didn’t matter what approach he chose.  There was a fifty-fifty shot that Rachel would go off the deep end, but the topic was unavoidable if he hoped to have a real future with her.   

“In order for you to really understand some of the things that went wrong between you and me – the way I reacted sometimes – you have to understand the role Dorothea played in me becoming the man I am today.” 

Jon held his breath for half a second, waiting for a sonic boom or her head to go spinning around like Linda Blair in “The Exorcist”, but all he got was a gentle hand on his arm, silently encouraging him to go on. 

Thank ya, Jesus.

“When I met Dorothea, I was just a kid.  A little shy… unsure… I didn’t really fit in, and neither did she.  At least not in the traditional high school football player/cheerleader molds.  Dorothea… she wasn’t worried about fitting in.  The girl had a confidence in herself that I envied and she ended up showing that kind of confidence in me.  I might not have had much self-confidence, but she had enough for both of us.  It was a helluva rush.  As long as I had her, I could fly, yanno?” 

Rachel didn’t speak.  She only nodded her head and absently scraped her nails along the hair on his arm while he continued to talk. 

“There were a few times she left me and even more that she threatened to.  When it happened before we were married, I just took up with some starlet or groupie.  After we married…. Well, I took up with more discreet starlets and groupies.   But she always came back – or let me come back – and I was grateful, because I was well aware that I needed her.   She was the safety net – the due north, if you will – that had always kept me centered during this crazy life of mine.”

Honestly, sometimes it still surprised him.  He’d thought Dorothea would always be there. 

Shows how much you know.

“When the final blow came, I knew right away that it was different.  This time there wasn’t gonna be a little cooling off period and then things would go back to normal.  I felt it in my gut and absolutely fuckin’ panicked because I knew I’d really lost her.  Dorothea was taking my babies away from me along with the only life I’d ever known, and I damn near lost my mind.  She was the only stable, constant thing in my life – her and those kids – and it was gone, just like that.”

He squinted into the headlights of an oncoming car as he got to the heart of his confessional. 

“Even if she’d been inclined to stay…  Well, the way I groveled so damn pitifully at her feet would’ve driven anybody away.  When she walked out the door I was literally on my knees.  Begging her to stay.   Who the hell wants to stay with a repulsive weakling like that?   It was the lowest point of my life.  By far the most demeaning, degrading… humiliating thing I’ve ever done.” 

It was almost as humiliating to relive that memory as it had been to endure it the first time, and sharing the story – admitting his embarrassment out loud – left Jon feeling incredibly vulnerable.  It was somewhat comforting that, even in the darkened car, he could see Rachel wiping tears off her cheeks.  The story was as hard for her to hear as it was for him to tell.  

Then fuckin’ finish it and be done, once and for all. 

“I sat on the floor just fuckin’ sobbing like a little girl.  I was hysterical, really, and more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.  I was… absolutely broken.”  Jon’s voice cracked at the memory of that day, when his seemingly idyllic life turned into a nightmare of Biblical proportions.  “It was a bad scene.  Very bad.  Even my closest friends don’t know the details.  The only living soul I’ve ever told this story to is my so-called shrink – and now you.”

Rachel’s hand left his arm and her fingernails skated through his hair, as they had so many times before when he needed comforting. 

“You don't have to tell me this, Jon.  I know some things are just private, I get that.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong.  I do have to tell you.  I had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment in the bottom of a bottle a while back, and I realized that, in order for us to work, I have to let you into a place nobody else has been except for Dorothea.  You need to understand why I sometimes reacted to you with so much venom, even though it wasn’t right.  You need to know it wasn’t you.  It was just old wounds being opened that caused me to say the mean and heartless shit that hurt you so much.”

“Alright… go on.”

There wasn’t really much more to say. 

“At the time, I didn’t know how I’d get through it, but I knew I would because that’s what I do.  , but I vowed right then and there that I’d never grovel like that again.   And I haven’t… not even for you.  That’s why I let you get on that plane and leave me.”

Rachel opened the glove compartment and took out a couple of drive-thru napkins that were stashed there.  She dabbed at her eyes and nose, sniffling in the darkness until she pushed teary words through her emotion-clogged throat.”

“I never needed for you to beg, Jon.  Not then, not now.  Ever.”

He took her fingers and gently pressed his lips against the knuckles.  It hadn’t been his intention to guilt trip her.

“I know that, sweetheart.  I do.  But I want you to know that I was wrong.  You’re worth begging for.  What we have is worth begging for.  I should’ve begged until my goddamn knees were bloody and told you all this shit so that you’d understand where I’m coming from.”

Another sniffle was the only reply he got from the other side of the car. 

“Rach…  Part of me will always feel like a total failure.  Hell, I failed you time and again and I’ll go to my grave feeling like I failed my kids.  All their heartbreak was because of my own actions.  Completely avoidable.  It’s why I’m so overindulgent when it comes to whatever they want, and whatever their mother wants from me.  I feel like I took on this girl, had these kids with her and then fucked it all to hell because I was a selfish bastard, a rotten husband, and by default, a shitty father.  It doesn’t matter how many stadiums I can sell out… I failed at the most important thing in life.  That’s my deep, dark secret that I never let out into the light of day.” 

“I’ve seen you with your children, Jon.  You’re a wonderful father.  And they idolize you.  We all make mistakes and have regrets in life, especially when it comes to our kids.”

“Look… I know considering your story about your family, my whining about not being able to live with my kids must seem ungrateful –“

She interrupted him before he could even finish the thought.  “Your sadness isn’t less significant just because my loss is more permanent.   Feeling like your children are hurt because of something you’ve done would be a huge burden, so you don’t need to qualify things or diminish them for my sake.”

He dipped his head once, slowly, to thank her.  Of course she would say that.  It’s just the way Rachel was.  She didn’t compare tragedies, she merely empathized and encouraged.  It was part of the reason he loved her.

“Anyway, you’ve seen it all now.  All the dark little cubbyholes of me are open to you like they’ve not been open to anyone that I wasn’t married to.  I’m sorry I was more concerned with keeping my fuckin’ pride intact than bothering to ask what it was you needed from me in our relationship.”

“And I wasn’t able to tell you what I wanted, or ask for you to do things differently.  It made me feel vulnerable and open to rejection, I suppose.   In fact, even if I’d have been able to ask, I’m not sure I knew what I needed.”

He heard her sigh and sniff, felt her flip her hand and fold her fingers around his own before she continued.

“When we first met, the physical attraction was so strong that we completely bypassed developing any kind of a foundation to our relationship before we were tearing each other’s clothes off.  The fact that we were sooo intimate made me feel… even more vulnerable.  I know I was defensive a lot of the time when I should have just talked to you about what I was feeling.  I guess I just expected you to be a mind reader.”

The tires singing against the pavement was the only sound in the car for a long moment as they both mulled over what had been said. 

“Yanno,” Jon mused, sliding his hand back into her lap with a smile.  “Maybe it wasn’t all bad, this time apart.  Sounds like we’ve both learned some important lessons when we had time to do something besides fuck each other’s brains out.”

Her laugh was delicate, still tinged with a wateriness imposed by her tears.  “You know what they say…. Sometimes for things to grow, they need some rain.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” he lamented with a laugh.  “If that’s true, I’d say the torrential downpour of our past has rooted us on some solid ground.  Don’t ya think?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, her fingers once again lightly scratching over his forearm.  “But I hope so.” 

CH 19 ~ In These Arms

Jon outwardly grinned at his friend, inwardly dying to see the expression on Rachel’s face.  She’d never been to one of his shows.  Would the fans going apeshit over his little Elvis diddy be enough to let her know it wasn’t a regular occurrence?  Did she realize that it was for her?

She’s blonde, not stupid.

She would know – and he hoped that he’d made enough eye contact so that she knew ninety percent of tonight’s setlist was chosen specifically with her in mind.  Songs that he’d never performed for anyone were being performed for her. 

If she doesn’t get the significance of it now, she will.  Someday down the road.

Because there was no doubt in Jon’s mind that the road ahead included life with Rachel.  She was here this evening by her own choice and her own free will – that was all he’d really required from her.  Everything else was on him and he was confident that he could make it work this time.  He had just needed to get them in the same physical location so they could talk some things out.  So that he could assure her that ….

Jon belted out the familiar, “Two, three, FOUR….” of one of their most popular songs.  Yes, they did this one nearly every show, but tonight he planned to sing the lyrics with intention, sincerity and conviction.

He would be there for her. 

Pushing his tongue between dry lips, he focused on the movement of his fingers through the familiar guitar chords as though he’d never executed them before.  Tonight, he wanted this one to be spot-on perfect.

“I guess this time you’re… really lea- vin’.  I heard your suitcase sa-ay goodbye.”

He scrunched his eyes closed, squinting away the mental picture of Rachel climbing those airplane steps as he delivered the lines he could sing in his sleep.  She wasn’t leaving again.  Not if he could help it.

Jon stepped to the right side of the mic stand and looked back over his shoulder.  With the glare of the spotlight and the mass of people, he did his best to find her face in the crowd as he made his offer and apology. 

“I can promise you tomor-row… but I can’t buyy back yesterdaa-ay.” 

If they had a birthday cake backstage, like he suspected they did, he already had his wish picked out.  When he blew out the candle – because they weren’t stupid enough to present him with almost fifty individually flaming candles, considering that he preferred not to have even one – it was his fondest desire that she could see that’s what it was really all about.  There was nothing he could do about the way things had gone between them before.  He couldn’t change the past, but he could promise a future that was brighter than the shadows that might be lingering between them. 

He executed the final strum with a pensive smile on his face before nodding and Richie and giving him a fist bump.  Wiping the “sweat” from his eyes, he pushed his smile to go bigger while waiting for Dave and Tico to join them on the circle. 

She sees it.  She has to.  In this, like the rest of my life, I’ll be successful or die trying. 

Rachel shook her head as the show progressed from the circle back to the main stage.  He was amazing.  Simply amazing.   It wasn’t just her that was captivated by him, either.  He had thousands of people hanging onto his every word, motion and smile.  They were all but eating out of his hand.

And why wouldn’t they?  He covered both sides of the stage and the pit area with equal fervor and zeal, paying everyone “special” attention.  No doubt, half of the arena would leave with the idea that they’d had a moment with Jon Bon Jovi. 

Rachel included. 

It might be his birthday, but I feel like I’m the one being gifted.

And the gifts kept arriving when he came to the side of the stage closest to her and sang, “You’ve got your sins and I’ve got mine... but love’s the only rule”. The room was warm – almost unbearably so – but chills zinged down her spine and goosebumps the size of Canadian geese lifted up on her on her arms to do the hokey pokey. 

The way the sweat was rolling down his face and his shirt was sticking to his body warmed up the place – Rachel – even more.  Apparently, she wasn’t the only one suffering from the man-made heatwave, either.

“Lookin’ hot, Johnny baby!!  My teeth are sweatin’ over here!  Come closer so I can get a good crotch shot!”

Distracted from her own fiery libido, Rachel’s head snapped to the right and she laughed out loud.  The woman with the seat next to hers had been vocal about her appreciation throughout the show and Rachel had found it to be pretty amusing.  With a camera slung around her neck, you would think the classically pretty, forty-something redhead was a mom set to take pictures at her kid’s soccer game – not a boisterously rabid Bon Jovi fan.  

The woman’s camera shutter clicked and, as he walked away, the growing lens zoomed in.

“What an ass!”  She nudged Rachel with her elbow and raised her eyebrows over striking green eyes.  “Have you ever seen a better ass in your life?!  Can you imagine what it would look like naked?”

It looks just as good as you think it does.

The giggle that spilled out of Rachel’s slack-jawed mouth was lost in the music, so she just shook her head from side to side. 

Unaware – or used to – the unabashed behavior, Jon carried on with the song and made his way through the pit area before circling back around to the main stage.  His voice got quieter and quieter with the last repetitive words of the song and the stage went black. 

The crowd screamed for more as he and the band slipped down the stairs at the back of the stage.  It was almost a relief to see them disappear.  Between touching her heart with his thoughtfulness and his “rock god” demeanor, she couldn’t wait to see Jon.  She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and plaster herself against his body until they gave the appearance of being one person. 

Picking up her purse, she anxiously awaited for whomever would come take her to him now that the show was over.

Except the show wasn’t over. 

The bleachers vibrated with stomping feet and the blackness was pierced with bright cell phones and the occasional lighter until dark shadows moved on the stage once again.  Then, the screams split the air to celebrate the reappearance of the band. 

The tune that found its way through the darkness wasn’t familiar to her, but when the lights went up, she saw that Jon had changed clothes, or at least shirts.  She couldn’t be sure about the nondescript black pants. 

It took a moment for him to sing the first words, but when “You want commitment…” filled the air, the woman standing next to her let out the most ear splitting shriek Rachel had ever heard in her life.  The shriek was quickly followed with an equally deafening scream of “HOLY SHIT!” 

I guess this song is a good one.

Rachel put her purse back in her seat with a chuckle, and the woman’s screeches carried on, drowning out the entire first verse of the song.

She didn’t have a prayer of catching the lyrics, so she took the time to survey the sea of men, women and children whose arms were pumping in the air as their hips swayed.  It astounded her the powerful impact Jon had on this crowd of people.  The women, in particular, were completely enamored and transfixed on his every breath and a quick glance around her immediate area left little doubt that panties were melting left and right.

Maybe I should concentrate a little harder on trying to understand the words.  It’s obviously good foreplay…

Rachel giggled to herself, really focusing as Jon made his way back to her side of the stage when she began to pay close attention to the song.  She liked it.  A lot, actually.  It had an almost Beatle-esque quality, she thought.  Beyond that, it was a flowery version of many a late-night phone call between she and Jon when one or the other of them had been travelling.  They’d often teased of the wicked things they’d do to one another if they were together.

The closer he got to Rachel, the louder the woman next to her screamed “I LOVE YOU, JON!”.  At this point, Rachel was more entertained by the fan than she was the band and laughed out loud again while bopping along to the music.  The squeals and adoration continued as Jon played first to the crowd in the pit, and then to those behind her and Super Fan, before finally walking right up to the edge of the stage. 

With a little effort Rachel could’ve reached out and touched him, but she didn’t.  Still bopping along, she just grinned at him, her heart overflowing as he found her eyes.  He looked happy – God knew Super Fan was happy – but neither one of them had a thing on Rachel.  In that moment, his eyes connecting to hers with a hot blue sizzle…  She was happier than the both of them.  Combined!

“Like the poets need the pain, like the roses need the rain…”

“HOLY SHIT!  HE’S RIGHT THERE!”  The woman clutched at her flushed cheeks, bending at the knees and keening at the top of her lungs, “JOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!” 

Jesus!  For her sake, I hope she’s wearing a panty liner.

Mr. Rock Star didn’t even notice the effect he was having on his Super Fan, because his attention was focused elsewhere.  He gave a playful wiggle of his hips before pointing right at Rachel and singing, “How can I explain… why I need you… in these arms… tonight.”

Rachel’s neighbor grabbed her arm with both hands and screamed right into her face “HE LIKES YOU!  DID YOU SEE THAT?  HE POINTED RIGHT.  AT.  YOU!”

Her face going as flushed as her neighbor, Rachel didn’t even turn her head.  The magnetism in Jon’s eyes was too much to tear away from as he sang to her, and her alone.

I’d hold ya, I’d need ya…

I’d get down on my knees for you…

 and make everything alright…

If you were in these arms….

I’d love ya, I’d please ya…

I’d tell you that I never leave ya

And love you till the end of time…

If you were in these arms tonight….

Rachel now had a favorite Bon Jovi song.

Ch 18 ~ Showtime

As soon as the door closed behind her, Jon pumped his fist in victory.  He’d been holding his breath, getting more and more anxious and irritable with every minute that Rachel was late.  If offered the opportunity, he would have made book on the fact that she was going to bail on him.

And it was money he would’ve gladly lost.

He didn’t know what had happened on her way to the venue, but he knew – without a doubt – that she almost didn’t get there.  For whatever reason, she had nearly convinced herself that this was a bad idea.  No matter that Jon had been on his absolute best behavior since storming his way back into her life.  No matter that he had consciously pulled his head out of his ass, hoping that guy would be the one she wanted.  The doubts that he had worked so hard to banish had nearly swooped in and convinced her that they were bigger than anything she might have with Jon.

Take that, he silently crowed to the invisible troublemakers.

And the funny thing was – in hindsight – the work hadn’t been all that hard.  It was kind of like being a musician.  There was a lot of exertion to create the songs, record the album and schedule the tour, but in the long run...  The payoff was worth it. 

A labor of love.

And tonight he fully intended to meld those two loves.

A sharp rap came at the dressing room door and Richie’s dark head poked around the corner.  “Yo man, you ready for sound check or what?” 

A light bulb went on inside Jon’s head and he grinned into his guitarist’s face.  “Richie Sambora.  Just the man I needed to see.”  Looping an arm around the taller man’s shoulders, he guided Richie to the sofa where the setlist was in progress.  “Sound check can wait a minute.  Come talk to me.  Help me fine tune the setlist.”

Richie snorted rudely and pulled back, looking at Jon as though he’d lost his mind.  “You want my help with the setlist?  Since when?  You’re as fuckin’ possessive of that thing as the Virgin Mary’s cherry.”

“Yeah, well...  Tonight I need a second opinion, wise ass.  Rachel’s here, so stop bustin’ my balls and help a brother out why don’t ya?”

The patented shit-eating Sambora grin slid across Rich’s face.  “No shit?  She finally broke down and deigned to grace you with her presence?”

Jon ducked his chin into his chest, smothering a smile.  While he hadn’t shared the whole Rachel ordeal with his bandmates, they had gotten a pretty good idea about what was going on.  He’d gotten caught swearing at himself on more than one occasion and, during a tour, Richie made a special point of keeping tabs on the band personal lives.  It helped in his role as unofficial peacemaker when nerves eventually frayed.

“Yeah and I wanna make sure she doesn’t regret it.  You gonna help me or what?”

Long guitarist fingers rubbed together in evil-slash-gleeful anticipation of getting his two cents’ worth in on this little operation.  God knew he’d offered Jon enough unsolicited advice during the last two weeks, which had mostly been ignored.  If Jon was listening, Richie wasn’t going to miss his golden opportunity to speak long and loud.

“Oh there’s no way I’m missing out on this.  Let’s see what you’ve got here, my man...”

~~~

                                              

Rachel’s head swiveled from right to left, eyes flicking to the rafters and back to the floor again.  Arco Arena was filled to capacity with an impressive and – to Rachel – surprising crowd.  It wasn’t just a bunch of forty-something women dressed in tight, skimpy clothes as she’d expected.  People of all ages had turned out in droves to see Bon Jovi’s one night show in Sacramento. 

Her eyes fell to the coveted “pit” section and the curved catwalk that separated it from the rest of the floor seats. 

Just before Jon’s sound check, he had given her a brief tour of the entire setup and walked her around the stage.   He had specifically pointed out what he called “the circle”, telling her that he would be out there for a couple of numbers and instructing her to pay particular attention to the set list during that part of the show.

Puzzled but curious, she had agreed.  She’d had more time to think about it since then and wondered if her seat was going to be the best spot to take note of those details. 

Jon had given Rachel her choice of remaining backstage for the show, or sitting with the crowd with options of a pit seat, floor seat or a riser seat near the stage.  She had weighed her alternatives, ultimately deciding that since this was her first show, she wanted to be in the best possible position to see the whole picture.  To that end, she had been seated in the front row of the riser section that flanked the pit on “Dave and Bobby’s side of the stage”, according to Jon.

Regardless of whose side of the stage it was, Rachel had deemed it the perfect vantage point to take in the entire production.  The other favorable point was that, with the front row of the risers being virtually level with the main stage, she would also have an unobstructed view of Jon in full rock star mode throughout the entire show. 

Once the opening act took the stage, Rachel had a better sense of what to expect from Bon Jovi.  Not that she was comparing the lead singer of Dashboard Confessional to Jon – in any way – but it had been so long since she’d been to a concert that she’d forgotten how... involved the singers became with their audience.  Her mind ignited, producing a thousand random thoughts that jumbled the circuitry of her brain like a parade of sparkly chickens.

Would Jon flirt with the women in the pit?  Or outside the pit?

What a ridiculous question, Rachel.  Of course he will.  It’s what they expect of him.

If she was going to do this relationship thing with him, she was going to have to get used to it.

What was it going to be like to have him teasing and smiling at the cleavage-flashing brunette in the front row, knowing that it was her – Rachel – that would be going home with him?  Knowing that she was the one he’d be spending the night with?  And... possibly...  having sex with? 

By the time Dashboard Confessional finished their set, Rachel was fit to be tied.  She was excited, calm, nervous, anxious, scared and elated all at the same time.  Because no matter what happened on that stage tonight, Jon Bon Jovi was coming to her house after the show.  They would have a little wine, talk, kiss, touch...  and whatever else felt right. 

Her skin tingled.

Dammit, this show could be cancelled right now and I wouldn’t care.

Right now the fact that she had never seen a Bon Jovi show didn’t matter in the least.  All she wanted was some time alone with the man whose face was on half the t-shirts in the room.

The lights suddenly flickered and dimmed, followed by a roar from the crowd.  Whistles and catcalls became deafening as the screens over and behind the stage filled with images of Jon and the band. 

Guess they’re not cancelling, so you might as well stand up with the rest of the crowd and enjoy it. 

It was the third song before they played something that she recognized, but she rocked and bopped along with the rest of the crowd.  How could she not?  Jon was both magnetic and engaging, even if he wasn’t the man she’d come to see.  The man holding court at center stage was unfamiliar to her, but in an oddly familiar way.  There were moments her heart soared with just a glance of the man she knew, but most of the time the guy with the panther-like moves was a stranger – a very sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

During a brief lull between songs, the arena went black.  All was relatively quiet until there were a handful of squeals that rose from the floor.  Rachel understood why when a spotlight obliterated the darkness and found Jon standing on “the circle”.  He had made his way through the pit in order to climb the few steps that put him on the catwalk platform.

She smiled at the women reverently reaching out to touch his pant legs and ugly black athletic shoes that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing on the street.  Even as she wondered at his choice of concert footwear, she recalled his telling her to pay special attention to this part of the show.   

Dutifully, Rachel angled herself toward the figure strumming a black guitar and surveying his domain.  Because of his change in location, his back was mostly to her, but he was as magnetic at that angle as anywhere else on the stage. 

He sang of old lovers reconnecting and making a memory, tossing a glance over his shoulder at one point. 

“If you go now, I’ll understand… If you stay, hey, I got a plan…”

The song, like many of its predecessors in tonight’s setlist, was one she hadn’t necessarily known was a Bon Jovi song, but she still recognized it.  This particular tune was a hit that came along well before Rachel had, so she knew it didn’t have anything to do with her.  Still...  he seemed to try and seek her out for that split second.  Had he chosen the song purposefully with both her and that lyric in mind?

Don’t be silly. 

But he had told her to pay special attention to this part of the show...

She shook her head as he quietly thanked the audience for their applause and Richie joined him at the microphone.  The guitarist nodded in her general direction as he took up his instrument and conversed briefly with Jon.  It was hard to tell from that distance, but she thought he might have winked at her?

Perhaps she was making assumptions with the last song, but when the two men finished their chat and soft guitar intro to “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” subsequently drifted over the crowd, she recognized it instantly.   

Tears welled and she pressed a finger at the corner of her eye to dab away the moisture.  She had no idea why she was being such a girl.  It was just a song.  For all she knew he performed it at every show.

You came here tonight, Rachel.  Your decision is made.  You don’t need to make up reasons to keep your distance.

Fine.  She was touched that he’d followed up on their conversation and put a little Elvis into the program by choosing to perform her favorite song from The King.  Her insides warmed and the corners of her mouth curled into an adoring smile as the women at his feet squealed with delight over his selection.

Or maybe you’re just on an emotional roller coaster.  Wipe off the all-day handstamp and exit the ride, please.

As Jon’s final acapella note faded, the screen over the stage showed Jon and Richie grinning at one another, and Rachel obligingly grinned along with the two men who were apparently pleased with their song choice and performance. 

This show keeps getting better…

Ch 17 ~ Talking Hearts

The rain stopped and those pretty rays of sunshine that you always associate with Heaven were peeking their way through the clouds outside of Arco Arena.  Rachel took that as a good omen as she guided the BMW into the venue’s parking lot. 

Getting directions to the artist’s entrance from a concession worker on her way into the building, she navigated the empty parking lot to the spot the girl had indicated.  Her next encounter was a security guard monitoring road blocks at a driveway that led somewhere underground.  He took her name and spoke into a rattling radio, eventually moving one of the barricades just enough for her car to get through.  Two more security checkpoints pointed her to still another guard, where she was finally allowed to park. 

It seemed running toward Jon took more effort than just turning her car around and heading in the right direction.    

Closing the car door behind her and setting the alarm, Rachel anxiously looked toward what appeared to be the nearest entrance. 

That must be it.  I hope.

Her suspicion was confirmed when a man wearing a black shirt stepped out of said door. 

“Rachel Braden?”

“Yes.”

His smile was impersonally friendly as he held out a lanyard with an all-access pass dangling from the end.  “Hi, I’m Steve and this should get you anywhere you need to be tonight.  If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where the dressing rooms are.”

She looped the black string around her neck and nodded at her escort.  “Right behind you.”

Butterflies built in her stomach as they made their way down first one hallway and then another that looked just like the first.  The butterflies morphed into 747’s when they came to a halt in front of a door that bore a laminated sign reading “JBJ”.

Steve knocked on the door and Rachel’s heart did a flip when she heard a grunted, “Come in” from the other side. 

This is it.  No looking back and no regrets.  It’s full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes.  No holds barred, no...  Oh, stop with the damn clichés, Rachel.  Just go and enjoy what you’ve been missing all these months.

The door opened with Steve’s easy twist of the knob and he allowed Rachel to walk through before quietly closing it behind him.

Jon was sitting on the leather sofa staring at a tv screen of some sort, his face intent with concentration.  Whatever had his attention faded away as the door closed and he lifted his eyes, his whole expression changed when he caught sight of her.

The first thing Rachel noticed when he sprang to his feet was how good he looked.  A black vee-necked t-shirt hugged his chest and shoulders just as lovingly as his faded – and no doubt recycled from yesterday – jeans molded to his thighs.  His hair was tousled as though he’d been running his hand through it, indicating agitation, but his smile was easy.

He’s... everything I need right now.

“Hey, sweetheart!” 

As he crossed the room toward her, Jon glanced at the watch on his wrist and teased, “You’re half an hour later than you said.  I was beginning to think you’d bailed on me.” 

That’s because you’re an exceptionally smart man.

When he reached her, his arm circled her neck to draw her against his broad chest.  A gentle kiss to the top of her head had Rachel going misty-eyed again. 

“I… kinda got lost… and sort of had a detour to deal with,” she meekly explained and discreetly sniffled into his t-shirt. 

“A detour, huh?”  He leaned back and eyed her suspiciously.  He knew.  There was no doubt in her mind that he knew what her evasiveness was covering.  Maybe not exactly, but he had a general idea.  Those shrewd blue eyes of his had always been able to read her like a book. 

Rachel wanted to let him know that she was all in.  That she was fully on board with this attempt at reconciliation, but the last hour had been an emotional roller coaster, and she simply couldn’t form the words that would effectively express her feelings.  All she could do was look up into his eyes, let her silence speak and show him her soul.  Rachel knew it would be enough for now. 

And it was. 

There was a change in his whole demeanor as they locked gazes.  The cordial grin melted into a contented smile and his shoulders visibly relaxed.  He seemed to breathe her in, easily comprehending what she had left unsaid and, most importantly, what she needed from him. 

He nodded a sort of acceptance and leaned in to kiss her again, this time on the forehead.   “All that’s important is that, in the end, you found your way, Rach.  Doesn’t matter how long it took you to get here.”

I love you.

Without conscious thought, her hand slid up his chest, its hardness radiating warmth under her palm.  She absorbed it for a fraction of time before continuing upward to sift into the hair over his ears.  The coarse blonde strands tickled the sensitive skin between her fingers and her soul sighed.   

The feel of him in her hand was as familiar to her as the hand itself.  How many times had she raked through the defiantly tousled locks as they passionately kissed or made love?  Too many to count and the memories of all of those times melded together to form a crushing need that could only be slaked by one thing. 

Their eyes darted back and forth at each other briefly before she rose to the tips of her toes and leaned forward.  Tenderly, almost reverently, she took his bottom lip between hers with the lightness of a downy feather.  Their lips barely touched in one of the most chaste kisses they’d shared, yet the intensity of the accompanying emotions left her as light-headed as any sexual interaction.  Ever.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth, certain that he could feel her heart pounding against his breast bone.  He still had the most profound effect on her.

She felt the smile that curved up the corners of his mouth just before he returned her kiss with a playful dusting of his lips over hers. 

“See?  Told ya you’d kiss me first.”

A light laughter bubbled up from deep within her and Rachel shook her head ruefully. 

“You are the most arrogant SOB.  You realize that, right?”

He bent to nip at the corner of her mouth and grinned unapologetically.  “It’s not arrogant if you’re right, baby.  It’s just gooood.”

And it was good.  To be in his arms again, to feel like somebody had her back, to just have the haven of his arms and his understanding...  It was like springtime after a long, dark, cold winter. 

She wanted to rush that springtime into the full bloom of summer, telling him everything she’d been thinking and feeling for the last couple of hours.  It was so tempting to let him know that she was ready for whatever the seasons held.

It’s not the time or place.  He has to work.

As his arms dropped to encircle her waist, she took his face in her hands and kissed him softly again.

“Remember when you said we had unfinished business between us?  Well… I think you’re right.  I know the timing is awful with you being on tour, and I know it’s a lot to ask… but… is it possible for you to … maybe… come back home with me tonight so we can have that talk?”

The summer sun came out in the form of his smile, bathing her with a warmth that only he could generate.  Rachel bit her lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

“Bag’s already packed, sweetheart,” he informed her proudly.  “I always intended on going back with you.  Just didn’t tell you because I figured, if I did, you might not show up.”

This is why this is a good idea, Rachel.  He knows you.  There are things you don’t have to explain ad nauseum because he just knows.

“Arrogant much?”  she asked with a haughty lift of her eyebrow and a smirk. 

Jon pinched her rear end sharply and snorted when she squealed in protest.  “Not arrogant.  Come on... say it with me.  You can do it...”

“Fine, damn you.  Good.  You’re good.”  Rachel squeezed him in a tight hug and stepped back, anxious to have this show over with and get their talk behind them.  It was time to move on.  “I guess you know me pretty well, huh?”

“I do.  For example, I know you well enough to realize something’s going on in your head right this very minute – something pretty intense.”  He pushed the dangling strands of hair away from her face with a tender thumb and captured her eyes again.  “If you need to talk now, we have a little time before I have to do sound check.”

Pitter patter.  Pitter patter. 

She could hear her heart making the sounds.  It was no wonder that the women went nuts over him.  And they were just going ga-ga over his looks.  If they had any idea how thoughtful and sweet he could be...

Don’t go turning this into hearts and flowers.  You know he’s not like that.

No, he wasn’t.  Not in the traditional sense.  But he had his own brand of romance and he did it well.  Or at least it suited Rachel well. 

She smiled and shook her head firmly.  “No.  It can wait.  Really.”

He continued to study her, evaluating the truth in her answer.  Satisfied that she was indeed being honest, he gave another nod of acceptance.

“Alright, then.”  He dropped another simple kiss against her mouth.  “Just so you know... There’s a lot I need to tell you, too.  I wish we didn’t have all these interruptions so we could get on with this, but I promise – as soon as the show is over – we’ll have some uninterrupted time to sort all this shit out.” 

Chapter 16 ~ Lost Highway

Clouds hung low over central California, with rain intermittently splattering Rachel’s windshield as she zoomed up I-5 toward Sacramento’s Arco Arena exit.  

While the ninety minute commute wasn’t a particularly long one, it had felt like a blasted eternity as she repeatedly questioned the wisdom of the choice she was making.  With each moment that passed on the dashboard clock, she had reversed her decision about going to Jon’s show – to see him.  Up until the Tracy exit, she was going.  By Lathrop, she wasn’t, but Lodi found her committed again. 

Her hands clenched and released the steering wheel, restless and agitated, and she reached for the shuffle button on her iPhone.  Giving it the hundredth tap in as many miles, she still couldn’t find a song to soothe her anxiety. 

Tune after tune had hit a raw nerve of one kind or another.  Roxette had propagated the wisdom of listening to your heart, but Rachel snorted at that.  She’d done that once before and look where it had landed her – trapped in an emotional avalanche that she couldn’t find her way out of without guidance. 

Heart whined about being alone, but Rachel didn’t know that it wasn’t the best thing for her.  Alone, dependent upon only herself, she wouldn’t get hurt.

And you wouldn’t have anyone to share your life with.

Okay, then...  James was still an option.

No he’s not, Rachel.  Not really.  Is he?

Her mind may have waffled back and forth for the last hundred miles, but her foot never wavered from its mission as it grew heavier and heavier on the gas pedal.  After the third time she caught herself doing ninety miles an hour, Rachel had finally been forced to set the BMW’s cruise control at a law-abiding seventy, which she now disengaged with a sharp tap of the brake.

Traffic was thick at the freeway exit, but not unusually so for weekday commute traffic.  Fortunately, at four-thirty, most of it was headed away from Sacramento instead of into the city.  She still had thirty minutes until she was supposed to be at the arena.  There was plenty of time yet. 

Dropping the iPhone to navigate a turn and lane change allowed Carrie Underwood to take up residence in her stereo system.  Her regretful tune “Undo It” filtered through the speakers, further muddling Rachel’s mind as she navigated the roadway. 

They’d spoken every day since their Skype ‘dinner date’ in Florida.  Sometimes it was a short chat on the phone, while other times it was a more leisurely visit via Skype.   Things had been... perfect.   Almost too perfect.  It was like they’d never been apart.  He was attentive, interested in her day, thoughtful in making time for her and sending flowers to “put some sunshine” in her day. 

It was becoming entirely too easy to forget why they hadn’t worked the first time around.  When he’d popped back into her life, it felt so good… she couldn’t feel anything but the way he took away the throbbing ache caused from missing him.

Just as the the arena’s flashing sign came into view, flashing “BON JOVI TONIGHT!”, Carrie’s chorus of “You stole my happy, you made me cry” reminded Rachel of the reasons for leaving Jon in the first place.

Gliding to a stop at the traffic light a mere two blocks from the arena,  she knew she’d be a fool if she didn’t remember all the hurt and pain they’d inflicted on each other.  Then there was the fact that he didn’t want to get married.  He didn’t want to have more children.  He didn’t want to create solutions to their problems, he wanted to bury them in sex.

And it hadn’t just been one-sided.  Rachel had thrown her fair share of daggers at Jon.  Between her daggers and his personal preferences, they went from idyllic loves to strangers.  Enemies, even. Practically mortal enemies.

What am I doing?

Rachel’s knuckles went white in a fierce grip on the steering wheel at the same time fear fiercely gripped her heart.  The venue marquee had changed scenes to the band’s logo and then a picture of Jon that lit the match to a raging panic attack.

This was going to be a disastrous nightmare and would leave her with a broken heart all over again. 

The beat of Katy Perry’s “Hot and Cold” felt like a strobe as the artist chanted her catchy “we fight, we break up, we kiss, we make up”, further reinforcing Rachel’s fear that the past was a perfect indicator of the future. 

The hair stood up on the back of her neck as rain droplets dotted more insistently onto her windshield. Mother Nature was adding her opinion to the mix, it seemed and it was all the encouragement Rachel needed.  She made a sharp left turn beneath the overpass – and back onto the freeway in the direction she’d just come from. 

She couldn’t do this again. 

She couldn’t get caught up in something that was only going to leave her having to say goodbye.  That was going to leave her broken and devastated.  Again.  There had been enough devastation in her life.  One more round might just be more than she could handle.  At the very least, it was more than she was willing to subject herself to.

Jesus, Rachel!  What were you thinking to put yourself back in this position? 

Wet pavement was quickly eaten up by her fleeing vehicle while Rihanna sang “Rude Boy” and The Beatles’ “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” cued up as Rachel rushed down the road trying to get as far away as possible from the man whose face was still flashing in her rear view mirror. 

I’m sorry, Jon.  I can’t do this to myself.  I just... can’t.

Not interested in holding anyone’s hand, she agitatedly tapped the shuffle button again.  She dabbed the nervous beads of perspiration from her forehead as a gentle piano melody swelled through the BMW’s interior. 

There.  That was better. 

Taking a deep and calming breath, Rachel coaxed herself to be mellowed by the soft music and Aaron Neville’s immediately recognizable voice.

“Look at this face, I know the years are showing.

Look at this life, I still don’t know where it’s going.

I don’t know much, but I know I love you.

And that may be all I need to know.

Look at these eyes, they’ve never seen what mattered.

Look at these dreams, so beaten and so battered.

I don’t know much, but I know I love you….

And that may be all I need to know.”

The panic that had wrapped her like an Egyptian mummy unraveled with each soulful lyric to be replaced by brimming tears. 

Well, shit.  Now I’m bipolar.

Sometimes it felt like it, but Rachel knew that wasn’t the case.  Not really.  This was more an instance of divine musical intervention, because, if ever a song could speak to her soul...  Well, this song at this moment was it.

She had no idea where her life was going.  So much had happened in her life the past couple of years that Rachel hadn’t had a clear path – and it bothered her more than she cared to admit.  The only time her lack of specific direction and destination hadn’t bothered Rachel was her time in New Jersey. 

With Jon. 

Sure, there had ultimately been unhappiness, but before that, there had been bliss.  Joy, comfort, camaraderie, companionship.  Hadn’t he been the one who had given her a reason to take that first tiny step past the accident that claimed Nick and her children?  If she hadn’t removed that wedding ring, she might still be clinging to a past that she couldn’t change. 

“So many questions, still left unanswered.

So much I’ve never broken through.

And when I feel you near me, sometimes I see so clearly.

The only truth I’ve ever known is me and you.”

Jon was the one who had helped her break through. 

“Look at this man, so blessed with inspiration.

Look at this soul, still searching for salvation.”

No, he wasn’t perfect, but neither was she.  They had problems, but everyone did.  And he’d indicated that he wanted to try – really try – to work them out. 

“I don’t know much, but I know I love you.”

Loving Jon wasn’t even a question.  She’d never stopped loving him.  But could she go forward not knowing where they were headed?

“And that may be… all I need to know.”

A spring of hope bubbled up in place of fear. 

Yes.  She could. 

Doubt was replaced with – while not certainty – a need.  What Rachel needed was simply Jon.   She had to see him again to be sure, but something deep inside her said that her future was behind her with the man that she’d just run away from.

Again.

Cinch up your big girl panties and stop running from what could be the best thing in your life.

Almost light-headed with relief, Rachel put her foot down on the accelerator a little harder and sped toward the next exit.  There, she repeated the underpass turn that had launched her “escape” and got back on the freeway with a clear mind and determination.

It wasn’t ALL bad, Rachel.  You’ve spent so much time focusing on the negative that you’ve forgotten all the good times.

And there were good times.  Simple everyday life with Jon had been good.   What would be considered mundane days to most people were some of the sweetest Rachel had ever known.  Commonplace activities like lounging by the pool or shopping for a Christmas tree had been special with Jon.  They’d lived day to day just like anyone else, but together their lives had been...  ordinarily exceptional.

And the man completely redecorated his bedroom because you thought the old mattress had ghosts.  Remember that?

Yes.  Jon was right.  He wasn’t some kind of ogre.  He was the man who had brought love back into her life.  At one time, he’d filled her world with happiness just by being a part of it, and she wanted to give him the chance to do it again.

The scant miles to the Arco Arena flew by in a blink and she found herself back at the same stoplight, looking at the huge sign with Jon’s face all over it.  This time, however, instead of running away, Rachel raced toward it with a smile on her face and long-sought peace in her heart.   

“I don’t know much, but I know I love you.

And that may be... all there is to know....”

     

Ch 15 - Dinner For Two

A little weary and worn from her conversation with James, Rachel was nonetheless experiencing the thrill of anticipation when she pushed her shoulder against the hotel room door.  She had been looking forward to her bath and subsequent “dinner date” with Jon since she quit hating him for suggesting that she run this morning. 

I hate it when he’s right. 

Once the door closed behind her, the first thing she noticed was the huge bouquet of flowers.   There must have been at least three dozen long-stemmed roses spilling out of the crystal vase, part of them in full, glorious bloom while others were mere buds waiting for their chance in the limelight.  The deep shade of crimson appeared that much more dazzling against the backsplash of crisp white linen that cascaded from tabletop to floor. 

The dwindling daylight flooded through the window behind the table that had been set up in her absence, the amber rays glinting brightly against a metal ice bucket.  The wine chilling was one of her favorites, as were all the items on the accompanying gourmet fruit and cheese platter. 

The ivory card propped against the ice bucket left no doubt as to who was responsible for the room service.  

Dinner at 8 your time.

Until then, enjoy your bath.

See you soon~
JB

Rachel’s mouth curled into a coyly delighted smile as she carefully tucked the note under the edge of the platter.

Okay...  he can be right.  I’ll learn to live with it.

Jon had been notorious for knowing just how to undo the pressures of her day.  His magic had – more often than not – lent itself to drawing her a luxurious bubble bath in which to unwind, while feeding her a light snack and encouraging her to sip a glass of good wine.  

Rachel smiled as the tension oozed out of the stiff muscles at her neck and shoulders.   The fact that he’d remembered and cared enough to make the arrangements gave her a warm, fuzzy sensation deep down inside.  If his intention had been to make her feel cared for, he had succeeded in spades.

The wine’s cork having already been worked free by the fairy god-server that had set the scene, she poured a generous measure of her favorite vintage into a waiting glass and sipped.  She hummed her approval as soon as it hit her tongue.  It was good.  Very good. 

She happily popped a bite of cheese in her mouth and grabbed a couple of grapes, toeing off her heels as she did.  The room’s carpet squished between her toes as she steered herself contentedly toward the bathroom and its oversized tub. 

Her soles had just registered the coolness of the bathroom’s tile floor when Rachel’s attention was diverted from the tub to the vanity.  Waiting there on the marble countertop was a white box, the size of a toaster and bound with yards of white satin ribbon. 

Oh you are going all out, aren’t you? 

Popping the remaining grape in her mouth, she set the wine glass next to the package and turned on the taps to start filling the tub.  Call her silly, but she wanted to savor the gift for a moment before stripping it open.  It truly didn’t matter what was in the box, anyway.  She was enjoying the warm memories of Jon’s previous gifts:  silk pajamas,  keys to his homes. 

Things weren’t always bad.  He can be so thoughtfully sweet when he wants to be.

When the water was happily gurgling into the tub, Rachel took another sip of her wine and tugged at the behemoth bow that mummified the box.  Scads of white silk puddled to the vanity and she pulled the lid free.

Rachel smiled as her heart went ‘ferklumpt’ and she knew she was in trouble. 

It wasn’t anything pricey or exquisitely unique, but the gift was perfect – an assortment of bath products along with the softest pair of pajamas that had ever come in contact with her fingertips.  They were heather gray,  the top having a v-neckline  and spaghetti straps.  Even the lace that edged the neckline was soft, not scratchy like some lace could be. 

He had sent her the perfect prelude to their dinner and it filled her with the warmth that was Jon.  All the bad memories and hurt feelings seemed to fall away and she was left with the remembrance of the powerful love that had been theirs. 

Suddenly, she had no desire to linger in the tub as she usually did.  Despite the wonderful bath accoutrements, she was ready to fast forward with her evening – their evening.  Eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel was just tipping the room service waiter when the distinctive peal of an incoming Skype call rang in the air.  Without conscious thought, the polite smile that she’d pasted on for the waiter grew wide and genuine.  It was time for her date.

The waiter, however, presumed the smile was directed solely at him and returned it full force.  Of course the generous tip probably didn’t hurt.  “Thank you so much, Ms. Braden.  Enjoy your dinner.”

“I’m sure I will.  Have a good evening.”

Tossing her wallet on the bed, she slid into the chair behind her dinner plate and tapped the button to accept Jon’s call.

“I see you got your gift.” 

His smile was crooked, tipped up on the left side and mirroring the cocked angle of his head.  Elbows propped on a white linen-covered table that strongly resembled the one in front of her, and his fingertips traced absently along the rim of the partly-filled wineglass at his right hand.

Good heavens, he’s delicious.

He hadn’t gone to the trouble of “dressing” for their date, but seeing as he’d sent her pajamas, she hadn’t expected that he would.  And she wasn’t complaining.  At all.

That red t-shirt bearing the message “Easy” combined with his mussed hair was every bit as sexy – sexier – as a tuxedo and perfectly coiffed blond locks.  In fact...

She ran a restless, open palm up and down her neck. 

Well, the casually rumpled picture he made had Rachel feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long while. Tingly things.

I’d forgotten just how much I like to tingle. 

In the span of milliseconds, as she drank in the sight of him, the tingle danced its way through her body and her lips were starting to itch for that kiss he’d vowed not to take from her.  They were itching enough that she was seriously questioning her ability – and reasons – for resisting him.  It was quite possible that, if he looked like this the next time she saw him, she’d have him in a full-body-contact liplock in about two seconds flat.

Why don’t you give him five minutes’ opportunity to screw it up first?  Hmm?  There IS always that possibility, you know.

Dropping the restless hand from her throat to the lace-edged tank, Rachel used her mouth for its other purpose and formed actual words.

“Hello to you, too, Jon.   Yes, I did get my gift.  The bath things were divine and I love the pj’s.  But I also loved walking into my room at the end of the day to all your handiwork.  Thank you.   It was very sweet, and... I’m kinda impressed.”

His smile went from a crooked, close-mouthed grin to a slash of brilliant white teeth as he chuckled. 

“Glad you like approve.  Now pretend I’m pulling your chair out to seat you for dinner and pouring you another glass of wine.  But only a small glass since you’re becoming a raging alcoholic these days.”

Rachel couldn’t help herself.  She snorted. 

“You’re such a jerk.”

One shoulder lifted carelessly.  “Sometimes there just isn’t any way to sugar coat the truth.”

Dammit, she didn’t want to be amused by him, but she was.  That didn’t mean he was the only one who got to dish out playful jabs.

“Uh, excuse me.  Aren’t you the one who wanted to spend time together so that we might get back together?  I’ve gotta tell ya...  poking fun at my drinking tragedy isn’t scoring you a whole lot of points.”

His eyes lit up, crinkling at the corners as that infamous smile crept its way up his face.

“Drinking tragedy?  What the hell...?  I thought you were in real estate, not public relations!  Besides, I said ‘spend time’, not ‘build castles out of bullshit’.”

She rolled her eyes, an unwitting snicker slipping free.  “Wow.  You’ve got an elegant way with words, don’t you?”

Eventually the sarcastic banter fell away, collateral damage of their consideration for the rapidly cooling meals on their respective hotel tables.  Nearly identical suppers of green salad, grilled chicken and vegetables slowly disappeared along with the accompanying wine as they talked. 

There was no mention of the past or the future, merely a pleasant exchange about the present.  Jon was talking about the “trials and tribulations” of the Bongiovi kids, as per their last check-in a couple of hours ago.  Cars, girlfriends and dogs were the hot topics of the day in New Jersey and she enjoyed his accounts of the children’s seemingly insurmountable plights.

For her part, Rachel had been forced to good-naturedly concede his superior medical wisdom in all things alcohol related.  Because, despite the fact that the torturous process was so severe that it should require intervention from the Geneva Convention, running off a hangover had been astoundingly successful in flushing the toxins out of her system.

They had both finished with their food and Rachel was lingering with her wine, wondering if she should end the call.  The evening had been so pleasant thus far that she didn’t really want to.  She had truly missed his company and was reluctant to shorten their visit.  It felt like forever since she’d been this relaxed.

“So...”  Jon cleared his throat and leaned forward on his forearms with an engaging smile.  He didn’t seem anxious to end the call either, she was pleased to note.  “I know you said you’re busy this weekend, but it turns out we’re playing Sacramento next week….”

She smiled at his choice of words.  “It ‘turns out’ you’re playing Sacramento?  Like that’s a surprise that somebody snuck in on you?”

“Okay, fine.  By the way, we’re playing Sacramento next week.  And... since you’re not taking the hint and jumping at the chance to come to my show, I’ll go on to remind you that it’s also my birthday.  C’mon Rach, whaddaya say?   Come join me for a little birthday cake?”

Her stomach flip-flopped and those pleasant little tingles started firing back to life at his coaxing.  The persuasive wiggle of his eyebrows and the way he sucked a drop of wine from his index finger interfered with her brain waves.  She didn’t possess the mental capacity to make this decision.

”You hate your birthday,” she blurted dumbly.

“No.  I just hate a big fuss about my birthday.”

“No big fuss and yet you’ll get on a stage to perform in front of fifteen thousand people?  Who all know it’s your birthday?  No, you don’t want any attention.” 

“It’s actually closer to eighteen thousand people, but why split hairs over a few thousand?   It’s just another day at work and I don’t wanna debate the semantics.  C’mon, Rach...  I single-handedly got rid of your hangover this morning.  You’re not really gonna make me spend my birthday all alone, are ya?”

More amused than tingling by this point, Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head before looking back at the screen and Jon’s over-zealous smile.   She had given it her best shot, but not much had changed in their time apart.  He still weakened her with the power of Superman’s kryptonite and she found him as irresistible as ever – even if he was just a face on her computer screen.  Two-dimensional or three, it didn’t matter.  His charm was as potent as ever.

What will it be like when we’re in the same room again?  Dare I?

“If I come will you throw Elvis scarves at the ladies in the crowd?”

“You and that Elvis thing...”  He threw his head back and laughed toward the ceiling.  “Yeah, I can probably give a little nod to Elvis if that’s what it takes to get you there.  So…”  He leaned in close to the screen his eyes alight with optimism.  “Whaddaya say?  That’s a yes?”

Rachel couldn’t help but think that his delight was almost child-like and, as was the case with all charming children, denying him was impossible.  When he smiled at her with that look in his eyes... “Yeah.  I’ll be there.”

He squinted one eye distrustfully and pointed his index finger at the screen.  “You won’t bail on me, right?”

“No.  I’ll be there, Jon,” she assured him with an amused smile.  He was so tenacious.

Dropping the index finger, he exchanged it for another finger.  His eyes went from playful to solemn as he held up his pinky finger and quietly asked for more than words.  “Pinky swear?”

The light-heartedness of their evening evaporated in that single question, and the present was washed away by a wave of past memories. 

Pinky swear.

Two little, softly-spoken words filled her empty soul with the reminder of promises they’d made and the love they’d shared.  The earrings and necklace that represented their two intertwined fingers were still tucked safely at home in her jewelry box, but they had no dust on them.  She’d taken them out to look at often, wondering where they’d gone wrong.

He had asked her once before to trust him.  He encouraged her to jump headfirst into life with the certainty that he’d catch her before she hit the ground.  

And she had.

It didn’t work out too well, either.  Could this time be any different? 

The night Jon showed up at her house, he’d said they had unfinished business and Rachel felt that was true.  Speaking in performer’s terms, their show wasn’t over yet.  She wasn’t sure how it would ultimately play out – maybe she’d end up broken and battered again – but something remained between them and Rachel was anxious to find out what it was.

The show wasn’t over.  It was time for their encore.

“Pinky swear.”