The Playlist, page 29
Cori reached out for Gina, stroking her arm. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. I’ve done a lot of work to bring closure to that time in my life. It’s a good song, and I think it’s something that a lot of people can relate to.”
Gina took in a breath and nodded. The reaction Cori had to hearing her song on the playlist that afternoon four years ago was the first time Gina had seen Cori come apart. The first time Cori tried to push Gina away. Gina had long identified that moment as a turning point in their relationship; the moment when Cori finally let her see the sort of gnarly knots that people—particularly a twenty-six-year-old Cori—tried to hide with fresh paint, or if they were especially rough, smooth over with plaster.
Although Gina worried that releasing this song into the world might be too painful for Cori and wanted to protect her, it was ultimately Cori’s story, and her decision. “Is your record company going to punish you for recording it?” Gina asked quietly.
Cori shook her head. “No. It’s not a Love Ryders song. It’s a Cori Ryder song. I wrote it before we established the Love Ryders and I’m going to record it solo, without the band.”
It seemed settled: Cori was going to do a hard thing, and it was a hard thing she felt called to do. She didn’t need Gina to play devil’s advocate or infect her with worry. She needed Gina to believe in her.
Gina swallowed hard. “Okay, then,” she said and looked into Cori’s eyes. “What do you need from me to make this happen? Do you need me to call any session musicians or hold up the lyrics for you to read? Anything?”
Cori’s lips morphed into that disarming half smile. “Just one thing.”
“Whatever you need,” Gina reiterated.
“Sit with me in the booth? I don’t want to do it alone.”
Gina nodded, her eyes growing watery. “You got it.”
***
On the Thursday before the Labor Day telethon, Gina was perched on a black, rolling stool with her laptop on an end table in a small room just off the recording booth, typing furiously. Cori quietly exited the booth, walked up behind her, and squeezed her shoulders. Gina groaned and rolled her neck side to side, as Cori applied pressure to the juncture of her neck and shoulders.
Cori leaned down and mumbled into Gina’s ear, “You keep working out here on this little table and you’re gonna become the resident hunchback.”
Gina hummed. “If working in this position causes you to come and massage me, I’m gonna keep doing it,” she murmured, her eyes closed.
Companionable silence passed between them for a moment, as Cori used a fist to work on a knot in her shoulder blade. “So,” Cori started in a pitch a little higher than normal. “I was wondering if, um, you wanted to go on a date with me. I mean, it would be to my house, but . . . you know, without anyone else there? I’ll make you dinner and we could, um, talk?”
Gina swiveled around in the stool, eyes looking up to meet Cori’s. “A date? Well, I would have to check my planner. And I’d have to see if I even brought anything suitable to wear.”
Cori’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked unsure. Gina laughed and said, “I’m playing. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”
Cori beamed. “Right on. Okay, I moved my family meeting to Saturday this week since Clinton is having his last sleepover of the summer with the cousins at Kim’s on Sunday night. Deshawn told me he’ll be hanging out with some friends in the city overnight, but I’m pretty sure he means a girl, so I’ll have the house to myself. Maybe you could come over around seven on Sunday?”
Gina nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. It’s a date,” she said and smiled.
#
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: MARINERS APARTMENT COMPLEX
by Lana Del Rey
Plating grilled salmon, Cori was more nervous in her thirty-one years than she could ever remember being. She roughly wiped her hands on the apron she wore over her white, sleeveless button-up blouse and tight, ankle-length navy slacks. She mentally went over her monologue as she used tongs to place asparagus next to the pieces of fish. Setting the two plates of food on the dining table, she scanned the great room to double-check that she’d lit the candles she had intended to. A rap sounded at the door, and she exhaled a big, cleansing breath. This was the night she was going to lay all her cards on the table, and she needed it to be perfect.
The sight of Gina on her threshold as she opened the door took the breath out of her. Gina’s dark eyes sparkled, but it was her full lips that really drew Cori’s attention. She had put a touch of gloss on them, as if they needed the extra help. Her classic black dress fell a few inches above her knees; the neckline plunged enough to reveal her collarbones and the top of her cleavage. The dress hugged her tight waist and ample hips. Cori thought it would probably look good from behind too. Gina tilted her head bashfully and said, “May I come in?”
Cori cleared her throat and flashed a bright smile. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Please,” she blurted, stepping aside and holding the door open. “Here, let me get you a glass of wine. I got some Riesling; it will go well with the salmon.” Cori ambled to the kitchen, motioning for Gina to follow, and poured the wine into two tall crystal goblets. “Can we make our first toast to our successful partnership on the telethon?”
“Yes,” Gina said with a smile. “To our successful partnership,” she announced with mock formality. The ding of their clinking glasses rang out. Cori gave Gina a wink from above the rim of her glass as she took her first small sip.
***
“God, that was so good,” Gina announced after swallowing her last bite of salmon. “You have to send me the recipe.”
“Maybe I don’t want to send you the recipe,” Cori teased, twirling her wineglass by its stem to make it rotate in its spot on the table.
“Oh, and why’s that? Does the chef not share her secrets?” Gina asked with mock challenge.
“Well, maybe the chef would like to cook this for you again sometime and giving away the recipe would take away her excuse to do that,” Cori countered.
Gina hummed and said, “Maybe the chef is lucky that I happen to like it here and would not mind having this served to me again.” She arched an eyebrow at Cori, waiting to see how she would respond to the quip.
“You do like it here, right?” Cori asked, smiling still, though she dropped her teasing tone.
“Cori, it’s been a perfect trip. The views, the mountains, the ranch, your family . . . all of it has been stunning,” Gina said reassuringly.
Cori nodded, her thoughts drifting to what she needed to say next, working up the resolve to do it. Tonight was it, as far as Cori was concerned. She had convinced Gina to spend two weeks with a front-row seat to her life, and now Cori needed to know unequivocally what Gina wanted after seeing it. After having gotten to know her again during the course of the summer, bookended by a wedding and a telethon, with late-night phone calls, meetings in the diner, and that eventful jaunt to the beach. She needed to tell Gina what was on her mind.
“Would you dance with me?” Cori asked quietly.
Unlike their first re-encounter at the wedding back in May, Gina seemed to need no convincing. “Of course,” Gina said with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
Cori stood up from her chair and offered her hand to Gina, who took it and rose. Cori walked with her to the center of her living room, dropping Gina’s hand briefly so she could put a record on. It was a moody, melodic album, with no upbeat tempo, but it was perfect for what Cori wanted, which was simply to hold Gina close to her so she could summon her courage. She took Gina’s hand, brought their conjoined hands between them to settle on top of her chest, and wrapped her other arm around Gina’s waist. She sensuously pulled her close. Gina placed her hand on Cori’s shoulder. They swayed in unison, experiencing the first prolonged quiet moment of their otherwise chatty evening.
Cori inhaled the scent of Gina’s skin and her coconut-scented shampoo. She smelled inviting and familiar. Lana Del Rey sang the words that Cori wanted to say to her, that no matter Gina’s circumstances, Cori would be there for her. That she would be steady, reliable . . . a beacon for her during life’s storms in a way that she couldn’t have made promises about as a younger woman.
Cori took a breath, ready to make her move.
“Cori?” Gina said quietly, before Cori had a chance to open her mouth.
“Y- yes?” she answered back.
“Do you remember when I went to the concert for the launch of the first Love Ryders’ album?”
Cori was a little thrown off; she had not been expecting that topic. She cleared her throat and said, “Of course. We missed each other, but I was glad that you came out. Why do you ask?”
“The truth is, I saw you there. Not just on stage. I saw you backstage afterward,” Gina said.
Cori was surprised and she lifted her eyebrows. “What? Why—why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.
Gina sighed and said, “I saw you with another woman back there. Some reporters were talking to you and another woman had her arm around you. To be honest, I’d hoped that we could talk, but I chickened out after seeing you with her and just left.”
Cori’s eyes searched Gina’s, focusing left and right. “Well, shit, Gina. God, I don’t even remember how many times I saw that woman. If I would have known you were there, I would have done anything to talk to you alone. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that night. I just wanted you to know because . . . well, because I want you to know that I thought about you. We weren’t friends or a couple or . . . whatever we were doing with each other, but I thought about you. And I wanted you to know,” Gina said, her eyes dropping.
Cori could tell it had taken Gina some nerve to admit that, and she couldn’t find the words to respond. Gina continued. “At the beach, you told me you weren’t as strong as me, but telling me you didn’t want me for just one night—that took a lot to put yourself out there. And recording that old song of yours? That took guts too. And watching you be a mom, and seeing how you’ve built this life after all the pain you had when we were younger; it’s incredible to see. You’re so brave, Cori. I want you to know that I see that.”
Cori blew out a breath, floored by Gina’s honesty and her assessment. “I hardly know what to say except hearing that coming from you makes me proud in a way that all of my awards and accomplishments can’t,” Cori began.
“Gina, I’ve had a lot of lucky breaks these past few years—changing the direction of my music and the career that came from that, getting close with my family again, and becoming a mother. I’ve had the opportunity to romance any woman I could dream of, and I didn’t want a single one of them. None of them were the one. I wanted you.”
Gina looked up at her, eyes misty. “Cori—” she began.
“Wait,” Cori said gently. “I have to finish this. Tonight, I would like to ask you to be my girlfriend. No games, no caveats, no secrets. I’d like you to finish your glass of wine and watch me play a song. Something that I wrote for you, okay?”
Gina nodded, a smile starting to play on her lips. “Good. Yes, okay,” Cori said nervously and laughed. “Just have a seat and I’ll grab my guitar.”
Gina settled onto one of Cori’s leather sofas. After locating one of her acoustic guitars, Cori positioned herself on an ottoman across from where Gina was sitting. God, I hope this works, Cori thought to herself. She tapped her foot nervously on the area rug. She had rehearsed her words all week. She took in a breath and looked at Gina, who was gazing at her expectantly.
Cori cleared her throat and said, “Like I said, I wrote something for you. To be honest, an embarrassing number of my songs are about you or at least inspired by you. But this one, I wrote specifically with the idea of asking for you back. So here goes nothing.” She strummed a few opening chords and began to sing:
You said my actions and my words
All needed to line up
And then you walked away from me
Saying grow up and good luck
I’ve done my penance since that day
Thinking back on that mistake
I’ve repaired my share of damage
To get closer to my fate
So will you take my broken heart
Patch it with your careful hands
I’ve worked hard to be somebody
Who deserves a second chance
I loved the girl who you once were
I love the woman you’ve become
A look from your brown eyes
And all of me just comes undone
So will you take my broken heart
Patch it with your careful hands
I’ve worked hard to be somebody
Who deserves a second chance
After Cori strummed the final chord, she looked into Gina’s eyes with sanguine hopes. Gina’s eyes were swimming when she said, “That was so beautiful. I’m just . . . overwhelmed that you wrote that for me.”
Cori took a breath, gathering her resolve. “Gina, if you would be my girlfriend, I promise to be faithful. To call you every day that I’m on the road. To tell you exactly how I’m feeling, whether it’s good, bad, or ugly. And to have absurd amounts of hot sex with you.”
Gina laughed and sniffed, her tears now making a serious effort to fall. “The sex was good, wasn’t it?” she joked as she wiped a tear from the edge of her eye.
“Is that a yes, then?” Cori asked, a smile sliding over her face as warmth unfurled around her heart.
“Yes, you dope. That’s a yes. Put down your damn guitar,” Gina said as she rolled her eyes. Cori set the guitar down. “Cori, kiss me,” Gina said.
Cori slid off the ottoman and knelt in front of the couch, next to Gina’s legs. She reached up to clasp her arms around the back of her neck. She pulled her gently down and met Gina’s lips with her own, fitting their lips together softly. Gina’s mouth grew hungrier, and she was the first to part her lips, working her tongue against Cori’s. Her fingers dug into Cori’s curls, keeping her close. Cori placed a hand on the top of Gina’s bare knee, her fingertips barely touching the hem of her dress. Gina grabbed her wrist and guided it so that her hand slid underneath her hem and up her thigh. Cori pulled back from the kiss and looked into the chocolate eyes boring into her.
“What other invitation do you need to go up my skirt, Ms. Ryder?” Gina teased quietly.
Cori snickered and pressed her mouth back against Gina’s, in awe of the soft fullness of her lips. She walked her fingers up the smooth thigh until she reached the small patch of hair at her juncture.
Cori pulled away again with a quick intake of air. “You’re not wearing underwear?” she asked dazedly.
Gina tucked in her bottom lip and lifted her eyebrows in a wholly not innocent expression. “Well, maybe I was hoping that you’d find a way to get in my pants tonight—er, in this case, up my skirt—and wanted to be . . . prepared,” she purred.
“I didn’t think you’d be the type of girl to put out on the first date,” Cori quipped with a smirk.
“I figured that rule doesn’t apply to someone who used to be pretty good at fucking me senseless without any dates,” Gina murmured against Cori’s lips, and sucked her top lip between her own.
Cori murmured, “Used to be pretty good? Wanna see if that still holds up?”
“Look down at your shirt and you tell me,” Gina whispered.
Cori indeed glanced down at her blouse to find almost every button popped open, her bra exposed. She raised her eyebrows and said, “Impressive.”
Gina pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll show you impressive. Take me to your bed, Cori.”
Cori smiled lasciviously, her eyes flashing at the commanding tone. As if it hadn’t been intoxicating enough to get reassurance that she was going to get to make love to the most incredible woman she’d ever known, this same woman was even sexier with her newfound audacity. As Cori rose from her knees, she slid her hands along Gina’s sides, jammed them under her arms and pulled her aggressively into a standing position from the couch. Gina groaned with pleasure at the little show of strength. Cori started sucking at the spot on Gina’s neck that she knew damn well she liked, and Gina dug her fingernails into the back of Cori’s scalp, pulling herself harder against her.
Gina whimpered when Cori pulled away, her face flushed and pupils dilated. “Come on,” Cori said, and began guiding her by the hand toward the stairs. Gina rubbed her thumb against Cori’s hand as she led her up the staircase. At the top, Cori pulled Gina toward her, wrapping her other arm around her to rest a hand on the small of her back. She kissed her again. Gina moaned quietly; the sound muffled by Cori’s mouth.
As Cori walked Gina backwards down the hallway, they shared a series of hasty kisses and undressed each other unceremoniously, separating their faces only to peel off clothes as necessary. Upon reaching Cori’s bedroom, they had yanked enough zippers and pulled at enough hems so that every piece of their respective wardrobes littered the wooden plank floor. Cori figured she’d try to take her time once they got to the bed, but for now, the sooner they could remove the barriers between their skin the better.
By the time Cori forced Gina backward onto her bed, Cori’s hair was already mussed, and Gina’s neck was red from the grip of Cori’s mouth on it. Cori laid on top of Gina, grinding herself slowly against Gina’s sex, using one hand to hold up the rest of her weight, and the other to lightly stroke her side up and down. She ducked down to lick Gina’s throat and murmured, “I missed this. I missed you.”
Gina, the pace of her breathing picking up, let out a small groan and said, “God, I missed you too.”
“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” Cori mumbled, nuzzling Gina’s ear and drifting her hand over to her chest.
“Believe it. And it’s gonna keep happening, so get used to it.”
Cori ducked further down her body and took one of Gina’s nipples in her mouth as Gina ran her palms over Cori’s biceps. She rolled her tongue around the nipple, her eyes gently closed, lost in the sensation in her mouth. She delivered one more loud suck and murmured, “Your skin tastes magnificent.”
