Chapter 51: Smart Girls Conspire With Hippie Chics

New combo! Marley and Ashlynn! I truly think these two are cut from the same cloth. Love them together!

Marley

It's not often that I have difficulty communicating. All of my professional training has taught me how to listen, process, and respond with logical language.

For the life of me, I can't make Riley hear me right now. For the second day in a row, I'm trying to quit my job. For the second day in a row, Riley is refusing to let me.

We are Facetiming, and he's giving me this look that should be impossible to make, but somehow I can read it well. He's demeanor is teetering between paternal indulgence and complete exasperation with me.

"Marley, nothing has changed since yesterday."

Well actually mate, quite a bit has changed since yesterday.

I feel the weight of my clothes on my newly alive skin as I think about the way everything tipped this morning. The fight with Darius, Bodie's confessions about his thug night, my final dismissal of Dr. Watkins between me and Bodie.

I feel awake in a way I can't remember feeling. I feel scared for Bodie. I feel full of anxiety about what is to come with the drug sting. I feel uncertain about learning to coparent.

But I also feel magicked by Bodie's scent, the timbre of his voice—even his absence right now is affecting me.

For the first time in my whole life, I feel loved by a man who will fight for me like I will fight for him.

"Riley, I can not take a salary for being Bodie's sobriety companion when he and I are romantically involved." How many other ways can I say the same thing?

"Is Bodie's sobriety still one of your top priorities?"

"Yes, of course, but—"

"Are you planning to encourage him to stick to his methadone therapy, his exercise regimen, and all his other sober habits?"

"Absolutely, but—"

"Still willing to go with him to the drug testing, the methadone clinic? Still willing to moderate between him and his assigned methadone counselor?"

"You know I am, but—"

"Then you are doing the same job, love. Let's hold off on any formal changes—"

"Riley, you aren't listening. All those things I want to do because I love him. I'm in love with him. My professional judgment is completely compromised."

Riley laughs at that one. "You were in love with him the day I hired you. Your judgment has always been compromised. I only wanted to give you a little leverage to wield while he was still using. Now that he's sober and fully invested in you and Darius, you have a completely different kind of leverage with him. Erego, nothing has to change—"

"It does. It really does. Taking a salary for counseling the man I love—the man I'm sleeping with," I hiss reluctantly, "it feels wrong. It feels like I'm either manipulating him or...devaluing myself. Devaluing our relationship." I conclude.

Riley rips off his glasses and frowns. "Manipulating him. Devaluing yourself? And your relationship"

"Yes."

He rubs his eyes. "Well, that hits a nerve."

Oh. Wow.

"Riley, I was speaking strictly about my feelings. I was not making a judgment about you and Rowan del Marco."

"I know that." He's rubbing his glasses now. He puts them back on and levels carefully before looking straight at me.

"Marley, can I ask you two perfectly frank questions with you?"

"Of course."

"Are you planning to return to seeing other patients?"

I blink through a rapid mental calculation. "No...I guess not. Bodie and Darius are my main concerns. I'm not sure that leaves space for a full patient load. I mean...Darius and I can't travel with Bodie this summer and if I am a therapist to other patients."

"I suspected as much. This life—being attached to a rock star? It's rather consuming, as the Ballard sisters have discovered. But unlike Kat, who has her own passive income as an influencer, and Ashlynn, who was made independent in her annulment from Trace, you have no separate income from the rock star you love. Knowing Bodie, I am sure that he considers that a non-issue and already feels finacially responsible for you and your son. But those are his feelings, and not yours. So here is the more frank question. Are you prepared to be unemployed? Rather...is your self-concept flexible enough to rely upon Bodie for maintenance?"

I chew my lip. "That's a very complex question."

"Not really."

"I suppose there is a certain grace involved in allowing Bodie to provide for us, because I know from his own upbringing, that is important to him. I also suppose...my self-concept would prefer being productive to resting upon the laurels of being a Celebrity Babymama. At some point, I guess...I'll find some kind of work to do, even if I don't see patients for a living."

"That's what I thought. Let me be frank. My self-concept is rubbing against some of the hats I wear for Soundcrush and Strut. I'm not sure how much longer I will be working so intimately in Soundcrush's daily operations. For the past year I've been functioning as both their business manager and their touring manager. And doing the same for Strut. I cannot fulfill both roles for two bands. That's...at least three jobs. This Avery Thompson business...and my rather compromised relationship with Rowan...let's just say the entire situation is tenuous with both of my clients, and I need to make some changes on both fronts.

"When Soundcrush reunites in LA, many things will have to be settled. Frankly, in the best case scenario, I foresee a shift with my role in the band, and by extension the roles of my employees—you and Ariadne being the two most competent. Will you please let your employment ride for a week or two? Until we can get all this sorted? Because I may have a role in my organization for a professional of your caliber beyond being Bodie's sobriety companion."

"I'm not sure what you are getting at."

"I'm not quite sure either, just yet. Let's just agree for the moment that you are no longer being paid to be Bodie's sobriety companion and are being retained as a counselor that liaisons with the entire band, shall we?"

"Trace pays me privately for his sessions," I object.

"How many calls have you taken from Trace and Mac this week alone?"

I say nothing. I get his point. My account is automatically debited for a one hour weekly session with Trace, and I refused to accept more than my standard rate. Yet, I've spent hours talking to both Trace and Mac about Leed's abrupt descent into serious alcoholism.

"Right then. Resignation refused. Do ring me when you two get to LA?"

"Alright. We will do it your way."

"Of course we will," he smirks, giving a nod like he's signing off, but I stop him with a raised hand and he refocuses his attention on my face.

"I'm sorry, you know. That I didn't...perform to expectations as a Bodie's counselor."

He laughs at me again. "Love, you performed exactly to my expectations. I just wanted you and Bodie to begin on a sober note. I do care about these bloody fools, you know. Even if they drive me bonkers with their reckless behavior."

Then he's gone, and to my surprise, I feel a little more settled than before. As sure as I was that I couldn't take money for taking care of Bodie, I was also unsure of what came next for me, professionally.

At least it seems like Riley might have some ideas in that capacity. Ideas that I might be open to.

As I wander from the library, our security guard knocks on the door. He hands me a package that was delivered.

When I open the outer package, I see a slim La Perla box inside. I blush at the thought that Bodie is sending me expensive underwear for our date tonight.

To my surprise, the note atop the white lace cami and matching thong is not from Bodie. It's from Ashlynn.

The top we picked out for your date outfit is pretty, but I saw this today. It's perfect to wear with the skirt instead.

Happy Hot Date with your Babydaddy!

Ashlynn

I hold up the halter cami overlayed with lace that becomes more sheer below the bra—ending in a pretty chain of daisies that will fall somewhere above my belly button.

I call Ashlynn. "You know I can't accept your very beautiful gift."

"Well, you know La Perla lingerie is non-returnable so you better accept it."

"Ashlynn—"

"Marley—it made me happy to buy it for you. It made me happy to imagine you feeling beautiful in it, and it made me a happy to imagine Bodie losing his mind over you when he sees you. These rock stars? They are primal. When you feel beautiful and exude that? They smell it. They go insane to match your inner beauty with everything they've got. Trust me. Wear the La Perla. You can both thank me tomorrow," she jokes.

"Ashlynn, it must have cost—"

"Don't worry about that. Focus on the price of happiness you are going to cost me if you refuse it. Not much makes me happy right now. You aren't going to take my one happy moment from me today, are you?"

"Fine, fine. But Ashlynn...it's lingerie. I can't wear it out in public."

"Honey, trust me. On a rock star's arm? You can definitely wear lingerie in public."

I snort.

"Besides, it's summer. And it's not even sheer. It just looks like any other cute crop top. Except it will make you feel exquisite and make Bodie crazy and make the sex—"

"Okay, okay. I get it.Thank you. It's beautiful. I'll happily wear it."

"Yeah you will," she replies with meaning, and we hang up.

I take the La Perla box to the kitchen as I grab one of Bodie's energy drinks from the fridge. If the conversation Ashlynn and I had at lunch is any indicator of the night I have before me, I should probably amp up.

Dr. Watkins probably wouldn't have approved that I told Ashlynn about our plans to finally have lots of all-the-way-sex for the first time tonight. She probably would have said that's a boundary I shouldn't breach with Ashlynn, since the Soundcrush family is already far to caught up in each other's business.

But I retired Dr. Watkins, and I needed a friend to confide my anxieties in.

The specific anxiety?

Bodie's penis.

It is...not like I remember.

I mean, it was a quite fine penis when he was fifteen. But now? Somehow it seems...larger.

Almost too large.

Like...he grew or something.

Yesterday at lunch, when I asked Ashlynn if she thought that was possible, she laughed until she cried into her sashimi.

"Well, you've heard the expression...use it or lose it? I suppose if the opposite were also true...about penises...that rock stars would be the group that grows!" She put her hands over her face that was rapidly turning red...as much from embarrassment as the laughter I think.

"I swear I'm not imagining it," I insist. To prove it I went on Google, and we both learned that the male member can continue to grow until a guy is around twenty.

"Well if he was fifteen when you were together...that's five years to grow on," Ashlynn can't stop giggling.

"Shut-up," I mumbled. "I'm serious. I haven't had that many partners but he's...bigger. By a lot. And a lot more energetic than most guys."

"He is a drummer," Ashlynn is blotting tears with her napkin. "He really bangs those skins...hard, sometimes..."

"You're really enjoying this aren't you?"

She puts her napkin down and sips her water. "I'm sorry. It's just that...usually I'm on the other end of these embarrassing conversations with Mac and Kat."

"I can imagine," I mutter.

"Look. Okay, so your concern is...what? That if the sex gets very enthusiastic it might...hurt?"

"I guess so."

Ashlynn smiles. "In my experience...sometimes the edge of intensity can be good. But if you are worried, just tell him. I'm sure he will be gentle. Bodie is a sweetheart."

"He's a rockstar. He's not used to his fangirls telling him how they like it."

"You're not a fangirl. And anyway, I think you might be wrong. That's not Bodie's reputation at all."

"What?"

She pops a piece of raw tuna, chews diligently, then waves her chopsticks. "I've never heard the fangirls characterize Bodie as rough."

"You talk to the fangirls about the guys?" I whisper in horror.

"No, but they would talk to me. No one knew I was Trace's wife when I was hanging around the band, remember? The fangirls just thought...I was one of them." Ashlynn's eyebrow quirks in mischief. "Do you want to know what they say? About them all?"

"No, no." My curls bounce on my shoulders. Then my head changes directions. "Yes. Ok. Yes."

We both giggle now.

Ashlynn leans across the table conspiratorially.

"Well, I think his MO is different with Kat, but Trace the Rock Star? He is the maniac in bed. He sexes a stranger like he's going off to war. Picks experienced girls that can handle it, but never kisses them on the lips."

"Surprisingly, they say Adam is a corrupter. Likes virgins. If he gets a girl with a little more experience, he takes it to dirty places. Dirty talk to find out what dirty deeds he can coax her too, but real sweet after...never puts his fangirls out. Always let's them stay the night."

"Well I guess he and Mac make sense then."

"Oh yeah," Ashlynn nods. "You wouldn't believe what she told me..."

"Shush," I say automatically. "I do not want to hear about Mac and Adam. That's so wrong."

"You know what's so wrong? Me being the only one she shares Madam's adventures in anal sex with. In detail. Apparently she's in training."

"Ashlynn!!!" I nearly shriek.

She covers her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm in a bad place right now. Obviously. You're getting the dark Ashlynn, I guess. The former sex worker who gets irritated that everyone things she is such a Pollyana. We can stop talking about this."

I look to the waiter, strongly wanting to order a drink but refraining when I catch his eyes. If Ashlynn is in a bad place I don't want to put substances in front of her.

I should just redirect. My desire for a drink and this conversation. This is so wrong.

I open my mouth to change the subject and then say,"Well, hold on now. You have to finish. What about Bodie?"

She smiles darkly, and suddenly I'm worried for Ashlynn in this break-up mess.

"Bodie is the All-Nighter. They say he's...fun. Likes to tease. Likes to laugh. Likes to surprise. And do it again. And again. Basically, Bodie fucking you is like going to Disneyworld on his dick."

That's when I put my head down on the table.

I can't.

I am equally terrified and intrigued.

I can't wait to ride Bodie's Rock 'n Roller Coaster.

Eventually my mind reassembles from being blown.

I raise my head. People in the restaurant are staring at me. Ashlynn is picking at the nearly full plate of sashimi.

The friend doesn't want to ask, but the counselor thinks that maybe Ashlynn needs to talk about Leed. She's holding it all in.

"And Leed?" I say gently.

She doesn't look at me. She just picks apart a beautiful piece of sashimi until it's a brutal remnant of the artwork it was.

"The fangirls say Leed is a Unicorn. Unlike anyone else. A goddess-maker. I never really heard any of them do him justice, though. To me, he was beyond spiritual. He was like...a savior. He took my sin away. He washed me clean. He showed me how beautiful I could be, if I just let go."

She stabs a piece of sushi hard, leaving her chopsticks upright. "And now he's on TMZ at a club, dancing with a different girl every night." She gives me a fake smile. "So I guess, we should all be grateful he's filling the world with more goddesses."

"You don't know he's taking those girls home."

"I hope he is," she lies. "We have to move on, I guess."

"Do you? There's no way to work it out?" I ask gently. No one, including Leed, seems to fully understand their break-up.

Ashlynn stares at her chopsticks a long time. Then she reaches for her purse on the back of the chair. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and slides it across the table to me.

Wordlessly, I know what she asking. For fool-proof, professional confidence.

"Of course," I murmur.

She tells me a story that I quickly come to understand that no one knows, from beginning to end. Trace, Kat, Mac, Leed—they all know pieces. But the tale in entirety?

It's horrific. It's just as frightening as the story I could tell her about me and Daemon and Bodie.

Even more frightening? When she finishes telling it, she looks to me for advice.

There are so many things Dr. Watkins wants to say right now. But none of them will give Ashlynn her happy ending. Because her happy ending is tied to Leed being the Lion he was born to be. And I understand now, how Slade has already killed one career—Arabella's—and how he can destroy Leed. Destroy Soundcrush.

And hurt the man I love in the process.

I decide all at once. If Bodie can run games on Daemon in the thug world? Surely with all my training in the nuances of the mind, I can find a way for us to crack the sick skull of Viggo Von Schlater and find out the truth about Megan Davis.

So I slide the twenty dollars back across the table to Ashlynn, and I say, "I'm going to tell you what I think we should do. But you have to understand. I am not Dr. Watkins right now.

"I am not the professional that believes mental illness is treatable and not the fault of persons whose lives it claims. No. Right now, I'm a righteous, outraged woman who wants to right the wrongs for my friend, who was badly brutalized by a mentally and morally corrupt man, just like I was. Right now, I am Jasmine Jones. But I am Jasmine Jones with Dr. Watkins skills and I am telling you—I think I can help you with Slade."

"Okay?" Ashlynn words are breathless. "What should we do?"

I grab her hand. "We should make that motherfucker pay."

————

Bodie walks in from the garage, interrupting my thoughts about Viggo Von Schlater.

"Hey," he grins at me.

"Hey."

We are staring at each other blankly. He runs his hand over his shorn head—a new habit I find adorable. Especially when he smiles like that.

"What?" I ask, my own smile spreading shyly.

He moves toward me, wrapping his arms around me. "I like this. Coming home to you."

He has no idea how much I like it. Him. Me. Darius. Us. In this house. A family.

I prop my extended arms on his shoulders. "Hmmmm...keep doing it. It might grow on me."

I jump as he slaps my ass.

"Ouch," I tease with a pout.

"Woman, please. Your ass is at least as tough as your sass."

"True." He's got both hands on my ass now. "How did it go with Darius?"

"Better than I expected, actually. He took the shock of the poor dead kid with a lot of maturity. He understood why we were showing him. He understands what's at stake. He gets it, Marley. I feel good about him being around Pat. I think he can handle keeping the status quo with Daemon, in small doses. He went home with TJ for a little trial run tonight."

"You sure?" I ask searching his eyes.

He touches my face gently. "Sure? Jaz, I'm not sure of anything except that I have faith. In our kid. In our love. "

He kisses me gently—just a small, sweet kiss.

"Okay," I say, trying not to fall down under his spell. "I think Darius will do fine at TJ's. I'm glad you feel better about it."

He bites his lip as he spies the lingerie box on the counter. "That for tonight?"

"Uh-huh," I say mindlessly, struck by the lusty look spreading across his face.

"I'm fucking ecstatic about playing with whatever is in that box," he says. "And I'm glad you went for quality. It has to hold up all night."

Shivers at his implied threat. More as he unexpectedly turns my head to the side, nipping lightly down my neck.

It stings, it tickles, and it feels good all at once. My body moves away instinctively, but my soul purrs as he grabs my waist to pull me close.

He stills his mauling mouth against my throat.

His voice is low as he whispers in my ear. "Go get ready, okay? I'm starving."

Me too, Bodie. Me too.