Page 4 of Renegade

I walk out to the main part of the bus and sit on the couch. “Poppy, I hope your friend never walks in on Ethen,” I say, smoothing out the wrinkles of my gray t-shirt.

“You think I’d let her on this bus with you guys? No fucking way. I’ll bring her by the club and we’ll all hang out, but not on this STD-mobile,” she says and we all laugh.

The conversation becomes light as we all start to feel the effects of weeks of late nights, little sleep and lots of alcohol. It was a f

ucking great tour, but I’m thankful for this break. We all need time to relax before we are at it again soon. This life isn’t for everyone, hell it isn’t for most, but I love it and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.

It’s Sunday and that means Hank and I will be having sex tonight, so I am making sure to shave my legs in the shower. I get out of the shower and toss on my black-satin, chemise lingerie. I’m pretty excited because this is not something I would normally wear and I feel pretty sexy in it. It’s so soft against my skin and I’m sure Hank will flip. I’ve never worn anything sexy like this for him. I wanted to get something racier, but I didn’t know how he would react to that. Every once in a while I wish he would just tell me that I’m sexy or beautiful. He doesn’t compliment me and I’ll be honest, I crave it. That’s why I figured I’d try something different like this. How could this not gain me a compliment?

I decide to take it a step further and put on some makeup and do my hair. I put on some dark eye shadow that really makes my green eyes pop and put a few curls in my long brown hair. While staring in the mirror I take a deep breath and think about my conversation with Poppy yesterday. I told her that I didn’t think it was a good idea to come out, but she just wouldn’t hear it. She actually went ahead and paid for the ticket for me and emailed it. What the hell choice do I have now? I can’t let her waste her money, but I’m a nervous wreck. The idea of pulling out of my comfort zone is terrifying to me.

Not wanting to waste my time thinking about something that is already in place, I study myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom. It’s definitely a new look for me, but I love it. I look hot and sexy. My full breasts are showing a lot of cleavage, my small frame is accented and my legs look incredibly long. I bite my lip and feel myself getting excited, for what is to come. Hank always likes to have sex the same way, him on top with little to no foreplay. Tonight, I’m hoping to change that. The thought alone has my nipples pebbling and I can feel them straining against the satin and I’ll admit, it feels good. It makes me want to reach up and rub them, maybe even pinch them.

Shaking my head of these crazy thoughts I never have, I step out of the bathroom. Hank is already in bed waiting for me and I can’t keep the smile off my face. He’s going to go ballistic when he sees me. I walk into the bedroom, feeling better than I have about myself, probably ever. Hank is reading a book, but lowers it when he hears me close the door. I stand there with excitement bubbling through me as his eyes take me in.

“Brooke, what are you wearing?” he asks and not exactly in the turned on voice I was hoping for.

“I bought this for you. I thought you’d like it.” I step closer to the bed.

He frowns and looks at my face. “Why the hell do you have all that makeup on? We are just going to bed.”

My excitement vanishes and I become very self-conscious. With my arms, I cover my cleavage and move away from the bed. “I just thought it would be nice to try something different,” I whisper in defeat, as I grab my robe off the closet door.

“Different is over rated. Things are fine the way they are. Don’t go changing things up now. You look trashy if I’m being honest,” he says, bluntly, picking up his book to continue reading.

The sting is too much to handle and I feel tears welling up. “I guess I’ll get back in the shower,” I say in complete defeat.

“Good idea. We’ll try again next week,” he comments as I walk out the door.

Before I even make it to the bathroom the tears fall. I rush to get inside, because the last thing I need is for him to see me upset. Sitting on the toilet I silently cry into my hands. I felt so good about myself and now I feel like such a damn fool. It’s one thing to not toss out a compliment every once and a while, but it’s something else entirely to make someone feel like shit. This, made me feel like shit. I have very little confidence in myself and when I get the nerve to do something sexy, he not only shuts me down, but tells me I look trashy.

As I stand up to start the shower, again, I hear my cell phone ring. Quickly wiping my face I race out of the bathroom to see who it is. Of course it’s Poppy. I’m not about to answer the phone, she will hear in my voice right away that I’ve been crying. She already think so little of Hank as it is. Many times she’s called and I’ve been holding back tears. It’s not that he’s mean, it’s just that things could be so much better if he’d try. Poppy doesn’t like that. She thinks he’s holding me back, giving me a life I don’t deserve. The number of times she’s told me to leave are countless. I silence the phone and bring it into the bathroom with me. Turning the shower on, I step out of my lingerie. While showering, I can’t tell the difference between my tears and the water. I simply scrub myself clean and continue to let the tears fall.

Once I’m out and in my bathrobe, since I forgot pajamas, I sit on the couch to watch TV. I can’t even stomach the idea of laying down next to Hank right now. It’s part embarrassment and part I’m angry with him for his reaction. Just as I get comfortable on the couch, my phone starts vibrating against the table. I pick it up and see that Poppy has called ten times. Feeling horrible for ignoring it, I quickly hit answer. “Hello?”

“Brooklyn! What the hell took you so long to answer?” She asks and I can hear that she is at some kind of party or something.

“I was in the shower. Is something wrong?” I mean I have to ask, why else would she call me so many times?

“No, nothing is wrong. I had a few drinks and I wanted to talk,” she says, giggling.

My stomach swims with butterflies at the thought of being there. I take a deep breath and try to find my courage. “I’m kind of nervous about going to New York, Poppy.”

“Why? It’ll be a blast.”

“What am I going to do while you are out partying at all hours of the night?” I question.

“We’ll think of something,” she says.

By the sound of her voice it sounds as if she expects me to party right along with her which in turn makes more butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“I’ll be your guest, Poppy.”

“Brooklyn, it’ll be fine. You’ll have a blast, promise.”

And that’s what I’m afraid of.

“You sure you want to talk now? It sounds like you’re out?” I ask, changing the subject.

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