Plat, page 7
“Oh wow.” I hadn’t heard Ariel come up behind me, and she was staring at the cupcakes as if she’d never seen one before. Granted, they weren’t just random grocery store cupcakes. Lexi had obviously ordered some gourmet ones for us, and the one Ariel had picked up was white and silver with iridescent sparkle things on the frosting.
“It’s called a White Chocolate Snowflake,” Lexi said. “White chocolate cupcake, cream cheese and white chocolate frosting with silver food coloring and spun cotton candy flakes.”
“I just drooled,” Ariel whispered. “Right? There’s drool on my face?”
We all laughed.
“I can only have a bite,” Ariel said after staring at it for another minute. “There are way too many calories in that, especially after last night’s dinner, but I need to taste it.”
“Tell you what,” I said, reaching for a plate. “Let’s split it.”
Lexi put the cupcake on the plate and handed me a knife. I cut it down the middle and took the two forks Lexi automatically proffered. I handed one to Ariel and grinned. “Dig in.”
Her giggle was almost girlish as she took the first bite. Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she made the sexiest little sound as her pink tongue glided around the outside of her lips. And my dick immediately took notice.
Great.
I didn’t know how the fuck I was going to last until we were alone to touch her.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do if you order these every day,” Ariel said.
“Every other day?” Lexi teased.
“Cupcakes!” Bash yelled, running into the room. He scooped a double chocolate one out of the box and stuffed half of it in his mouth before any of us could respond.
“Bloody hell,” Stu muttered. “What’s the big deal?”
I was shocked when, without warning, Ariel picked up a red velvet cupcake and stuffed the tall swirl of frosting on top right into Stu’s mouth. He stood frozen for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed slightly.
“It’s awesome, right?” Ariel asked him, still holding the cupcake against his mouth.
Stu slowly pulled it from her hand and licked his lips. “Fucking hell, what is this madness? That’s like Christmas and my birthday and Easter all in one bloody cupcake.”
“Christmas in a cupcake?” Ford came over and looked into the box. He reached for something that looked like salted caramel and licked off all the frosting on the top. “Yummm.”
“Please tell me you’re going to eat the rest of that,” Lexi said, hands on her hips.
“Well, yeah, but there’s nothing like a full-on sugar rush to start off the day.”
We all laughed and as we finished eating, I decided cupcakes and Ariel were my new favorite way to start any day.
She followed me home in her Mercedes when we were done for the day, and I moved my SUV outside so she could pull into the garage. I had a lot of privacy, but every so often, the press decided to stake out my place just to get random shots of me sitting out by the pool or something. I barely noticed anymore, but with Ariel here, I was hyper-aware of everything.
“Since I’ve never been on one, what do grown-ups do on dates?” she asked me as we walked through the kitchen into the main house.
“Whatever they want,” I said, turning to her. “What do you want to do?”
“Hang out with you. Talk. Get to know you better. Fool around some more.”
“Then that’s exactly what grown-ups do on dates.” I reached for her hand and tugged her into the family room. I had a huge TV mounted on the wall and a massive sectional across from it. I usually only watched TV in here if there was a hockey game on or I was watching a Star Wars–type flick, but it seemed like the most obvious place to hang out with Ariel. Other than the bedroom, of course, and even though we’d already done the deed, we weren’t there yet tonight.
At my age, I didn’t usually have to show restraint when it came to sex, but all the normal rules went out the window with Ariel. I don’t know how I’d gotten myself into this, but I didn’t want to get out of it either.
“Holy shit, who is this?” she asked, picking up a picture frame on the fireplace mantel.
“That’s me with my twin brother, Marcus.”
“You’re a twin?” she asked, turning to me and squinting slightly. “An identical twin?”
“I am.” I smiled. “He’s eight minutes older.”
“Where is he?”
“Limaj, I believe.” I hesitated. “He was in the Marines for a long time and went into the private sector when he got out. He’s part of the Royal Protectors, which is the special group of bodyguards to the royal family of Limaj. And that’s Casey’s family now that she married Erik.”
She stared at me suspiciously. “And?”
This was going to take a while to explain, so I sank onto the couch and held out a hand to her. She put down the picture frame and came over to me, taking my hand as she sank down next to me. “We’re not close,” I said after a minute.
“Why?”
“Long story.” I put my arm around her shoulder and looked over at her. Still the most beautiful woman I’d ever had the pleasure of spending time with. Or doing anything with, to be honest. Maybe I was swept up in the romance of it all, because in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was nothing but a fun distraction on this rare opportunity she had to be away from her father. And frankly, all the women in my life used me as a distraction of one kind or another.
“Do you want to tell me?” She was watching my face intently.
“If you want to hear it.”
“I would.”
“Well, Marcus and I did everything together when we were growing up in New York. My dad’s a rabbi, and—”
“Your father is a rabbi?” She half-turned so she was almost facing me as we sat side-by-side. “Are you Jewish?”
I chuckled. “I’m mostly an atheist, though I do enjoy the traditions of being Jewish, more so than the religious aspects.”
“So Thompson is a stage name.”
“Tyler Andrew Rabinowicz.”
“Nice to meet you. Ariel Ann Fuchs.”
“You’re Jewish too?” I asked, unsure why I was as surprised as she’d been.
“I’m more of an agnostic, sitting on the fence wondering why God doesn’t come down and give me a sign, but yes, technically I’m Jewish.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Same.”
We chuckled.
“Tell me about you and Marcus.”
“Remember talking about all the dumb shit we did when we were teenagers? This is the one I regret the most.” I took a breath. “We were in a band together in high school. Marcus plays drums. The plan was to join the Marines together when we graduated, but the closer we got, the less I wanted to do it. I wanted to play music, and while I was down with the idea of serving my country, I didn’t want to have to give up music to do it.”
She’d tucked her legs under her and was sitting cross-legged on the couch now, facing me, her eyes fastened on mine as if nothing was more important to her than me, which was really fucking cool.
“So senior year, we got this gig opening for a brand-new band called Viktim of Prey, which was Casey’s first band, and it was a huge deal that we got to open for them in New Jersey.” I paused, mentally cringing even after fifteen years. “The gig had gone great, and a few weeks later, I got a call from their manager. They wanted our band to go on tour with them through the northeast. It was maybe ten gigs, but a big deal for us. We were beyond excited. Except we had to leave in April, which was right before prom, graduation, all of it, and Marcus didn’t want to miss those things.
“I was annoyed about it and immediately started auditioning new drummers because there was no way in hell I was missing out on an opportunity like this. And the guy I found was honestly way better than Marcus. I felt bad because he’s my twin, but we sounded so much better with this new guy, and Marcus knew it, too. We had an argument the night before the band left on tour, with him telling me I had no right to replace him. It was stupid because he hadn’t wanted to go anyway.
“Anyway, I took my finals while I was on the road and didn’t make it back for graduation. My mom was really upset about that, and Marcus got on me all over again, telling me how selfish I was that I hurt our mother.” I blew out a breath. “The tour was going well, so Casey asked us to stay longer. That was the beginning of my friendship with her, and I was having the time of my life.”
“So you obviously didn’t go into the military.”
“Uh, no. And you can’t imagine how pissed he was.”
“I probably can, but I’m sorry if this is difficult to talk about.”
“A little, but likely not nearly as difficult as the things you’ve told me.”
12
Ariel
I felt bad for pressing Tyler to tell me the story because the deeper into it he got, the sadder he looked. He was staring off into space now, obviously a million miles away as he recounted what happened with his twin.
“We’d talked about joining the Marines since freshman year of high school but hadn’t signed anything. We were supposed to go into the recruiting office after graduation, and once we signed on the dotted line, they would tell us when to report to basic training and all that. But I was on tour making money and having a blast. I’d forgotten all about the military, and Marcus came out to a show in Massachusetts. He asked me flat out if I was still going to enlist with him and when I said no, we fought. Like throwing punches, bloody noses, the whole thing. It had never happened before, and when we’d worn ourselves out, he just got up, wiped his nose with his T-shirt, and left. We didn’t talk for two years after that.”
“I’m so sorry.” I crawled across the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head on my chest. “That must’ve been really hard.”
“Yeah. Up until then, we’d been inseparable. And of course, I got all the guilt from my mom, telling me I’d broken up our family.”
“And you never made up?”
He sighed. “We talked a couple of years later. I was between bands, not long before I got into Pretty Harts, and I’d gone to see my parents because Mom had surgery. Neither of us apologized or anything, but we hung out in the reception area of the hospital waiting to hear news about Mom. Since then, we’ve kept in touch, but it’s never been the same. And now he’s living in Europe.”
“Is it weird that he’s part of Casey’s security team?” I asked.
“Kinda. I mean, he knew I’d been in a band with her, so when the opportunity came up, he told them he was my brother. She called and asked me all kinds of questions, but there wasn’t anything bad to say about him. Marcus is a good guy—a great guy—and I told them that. I’m glad she has someone like him helping look out for her family.”
“Do you miss him?” I asked softly.
“I do,” he admitted. “I just don’t know how to fix things. I’d love to see him, sit down, and really clear the air, but it’s hard to find both the time and the right words. And it’s not like he’s ever reached out, either. I mean, we were teenagers, and I got the opportunity of a lifetime. It was his choice not to come on tour, and at the end of the day, I wanted music more than I wanted to be a Marine. It seems like he can’t forgive me for that, and I don’t think it’s fair.”
“I agree, but he’s your brother. Your twin. Maybe you should try.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s one of those things you know you need to do, but you’re afraid because there’s a chance it might make things worse.”
“Like me when it comes to fighting the conservatorship.”
“Yeah. Exactly like that.”
Kindred spirits.
He wrapped his arms around me, and neither of us spoke for a while.
We wound up talking for the next few hours, hanging out on the couch until about one in the morning before going upstairs to his room. I’d been a little nervous this morning when I’d packed my bag, unsure what it would be like to spend the night with a man like Tyler, but now that I was here, it felt so much more natural than I’d thought it would. He was as kind and gentle as he was gorgeous and sexy, and I was going to enjoy every second I had with him.
I’d undoubtedly wind up with a broken heart because I didn’t see a way for us to be together, but at least I’d feel something. At least I wouldn’t be the emotionless drone I’d become since learning about my diagnosis. The worst thing of all was that I tended to feel all the negative emotions, like hurt, anger, and frustration. The good stuff, like joy and excitement, were rare, which made no sense because that wasn’t how bipolar was supposed to work.
According to all the research I’d done—and there had been a lot—bipolar was defined as an illness that caused dramatic mood swings and periods of mania followed by periods of depression. Mania was when people were essentially high on life, happy and excited and into everything. Depression, of course, was the opposite of that.
For me, personally, I hadn’t experienced much of that since I’d been medicated. I’d read that some medications made you a bit zombie-like, which was why so many people with the disorder went off them, but that hadn’t been the case for me either. I enjoyed a few simple things without being manic, like writing new songs or reading a good book. And I’d certainly been enjoying every moment I’d spent with Tyler. So I wasn’t sure if I had a mild case or if my meds were simply perfect for my body chemistry or something else. Because there was nothing in the research I’d done that accurately described my condition. If my bathroom quickie with Tyler counted as mania, it was certainly short-lived because that had been the extent of it. Which confused me even more.
For the most part, I struggled with not feeling much of anything, but I’d learned to do that on my own, purely for self-preservation and to protect myself from my father. I got angry and frustrated sometimes, just like anyone else, so none of it made much sense to me. My therapist told me it was because of the structure in my life, and how well my father took care of me, but her thoughts on the situation were a double-edged sword because I hadn’t liked any of my therapists over the years, especially not the current one. My father always chose them, so there was a lack of trust, and I longed to secretly find someone on my own.
The last few days had shown me that I could, indeed, experience joy and happiness without going crazy. There was no drinking, drugs, or any other telling behavior. I was simply relaxed and happy. For the first time in years. If this was what it was like to experience mania, I never wanted it to stop. Maybe that was a problem, but I didn’t see how what I was currently feeling could be a bad thing.
“You are by far the most beautiful thing in my bedroom,” Tyler whispered, walking up behind me and sliding his arms around my waist.
God, even his voice made me a little weak-kneed.
“Do you want me, Tyler?” I whispered, leaning into him.
“You have to ask?” He turned me to face him, cupping my cheek with his hand and leaning in to kiss me.
I could have kissed him for days, he was that intoxicating, but he took his time, allowing me to savor how it felt to be together like this. His rock-hard body molded to mine, and he slid one hand down my back to cup my ass, drawing me even closer. His dick was hard against my stomach, and he groaned when I slid my hand between us and cupped his erection through his shorts.
“You don’t have to be a gentleman,” I whispered against his mouth. “We only have a short time to enjoy each other—and whatever this is—so I want all of you.”
He kissed me like a man on a mission after that, his mouth capturing mine so completely I couldn’t do anything but kiss him back. He was all hard angles and expert hands, his beard lightly scratching my face as we kissed. I’d assumed kissing a guy with a beard would be uncomfortable, but I was so wrong. This was sexy and sensual and so damn masculine, I wanted him to take me like a caveman or something.
“Now,” I whispered, panting a little.
“Tell me how you want it,” he said, dragging me to the bed and shucking his shorts and boxers.
“Hard. Intense. Just like last time.”
He looked surprised for a second, but then his lips fused to mine, and we were lost in each other all over again. Our mouths and hands were in a frenzy, and he yanked my clothes off. Then he was on top of me, our gloriously naked bodies pressed together.
“You sure that’s what you want?” he growled, digging his fingers into my hair and forcing me to look up at him.
“Yes. Hard enough to make me feel all the things I haven’t been allowed to feel in seven years.”
A condom appeared out of nowhere, and he managed to sheath himself without breaking contact. Then he slammed into me without warning—and it was wonderful. So much so that I desperately wanted more.
We hadn’t stopped kissing, his mouth as rough as the rest of him, feeding off my lips, my tongue, all of me. He was buried deep inside of me, thick and hard and bigger than anyone I remembered from my past. The intensity was gripping, and being trapped beneath his larger body was deliciously dirty to me.
“Too much?” he whispered against my mouth.
“Not enough,” I whispered back.
“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he groaned, angling his hips a little and going even deeper, but I loved it.
“More.”
“Fuck.” He picked up speed. “Baby, I’m…”
“Not yet,” I begged, clenching around him. “I don’t want it to end.”
“We can do it again.”
“Please, Tyler… Not yet.” I pulled one hand free and put it on the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to mine until our kisses splintered my world into a billion sensual pieces. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but nothing had ever felt like this, as if we were made for each other. For someone like me, who wasn’t supposed to feel this much, it bordered on overwhelming, but I wouldn’t have stopped him if my life depended on it.
“Baby, I can’t hold back anymore,” he panted against my mouth. “Too good…too much…”
