Decades

A Jealous Game

Stevie was California sober these days. She might smoke a little weed or have a drink or two. But, the stronger stuff had nearly killed her, and she was proud that she was so much healthier and her mind was so much more clear these days. For years, she'd felt too intensely, and then when the Klonopin kicked in, she hadn't felt anything at all.

Still, it was hard to handle her time here with Lindsey completely sober. She'd like to feel a little less at times. They'd both aged, and you'd think certain feelings would mellow, but there were times when you could still cut the sexual tension with a knife.

She'd been getting hormone replacements lately, and they'd flipped the switch for her. Her sex drive was powerful these days, not that it had ever totally disappeared as it does in some women her age. So, she thought it would be smart to pack her vibrator so she could privately handle any urges that arose without falling into the familiar routine of falling into bed with Lindsey when those urges inevitably struck.

Stevie had had an enticing array of lovers that gave her many exciting sexual escapades to look back fondly upon when she needed inspiration when using the compact little vibe to let off a little steam on her own. But nothing came close to the way that it felt when she was with a man. Particularly, Lindsey. He could turn a simple quickie into a multiorgasmic event that left her legs weak and  with feelings so tied to him that it was overwhelming.

She loved to watch him play the guitar, even now, because it reminded her of the way he had once touched her. Stevie had felt all of Lindsey's moods and emotions in the ways he'd played the guitar and the way he'd used his hands on her. It had been a long time since they'd touched each other, the last time was so painful that she was surprised she was even here with him again.

Still, listening to him play even when they weren't alone together and he was picking his guitar before thousands, it had always felt like an intimate, often erotic experience to Stevie. Being close to him and his guitar again inspired the battery-operated rumbling Lindsey was hearing in the a.m. and p.m. hours.

While the powerful sex toys did the job efficiently enough, it was nothing like the familiarity or the unpredictability and the closeness that came with having sex with a passionate man. Lindsey, he was the passionate man she was thinking of, had always thought of.

There were times when they'd have lazy sex, just prolonging each other's pleasure and exploring every inch of each other for hours. Sometimes, the attraction was so intense that they nearly ate each other alive, so hungry for each other that it felt like they couldn't get close enough.

There had been comforting sex, especially after he'd lost his dad and later after Robin's death. Other times, they'd grudge fucked, communicating so much hurt and anger to each other when they couldn't find other ways to express themselves.

Sometimes, sex between them was for fun, smiling and laughing as they contorted themselves into positions in which they could receive maximum pleasure. There were times when they simply wanted to love each other and show the other just how much love they had when words weren't enough.

The pair had always understood each other best when it was physical. Communicating through their music was a close second and often acted as a substitute for physical contact when the pair were successfully avoiding each other's bodies.

Those times of avoiding touching each other rarely lasted as long as others believed. Although, in the last several years, their communication with each other had nearly ended. They'd both spent a lot of time grieving for that loss. They had actually both spent much of their lives regretting the things that had torn them apart. Both bearing equal amounts of the responsibility for the mutual destruction of their relationship, they still spent as much time blaming each other as they did themselves for how badly it ended.

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Lindsey thought back to the time when things were particularly nasty between them. They were all doing a lot of drugs, Stevie, especially. She had no brakes when it came to slowing down on her drug use. The velvet bag with the coke was one she relied on to get her through every single day.

The flowers from Don had begun to wilt and shed their petals in the studio. There were so many that the sweetness left a sickly, sweet smell in the studio. Rather than a fragrance, Lindsey associated it with an odor. He couldn't stand them anymore and gathered them up and tossed them in the trash, petals and dried leaves scattering down the hallway as he took them to the trash.

He and Stevie had been playing an unfortunate game of rubbing each other's noses in their current relationships. Each landed painful blows that further inflamed the bitterness they felt.

Stevie would speak to Don on the phone and make comments to get under Lindsey's skin. She'd talk to him in sexual innuendos and flirted like she wanted to bed him right in front of Lindsey. While this got under Lindsey's skin, the hardest part for him was when she wasn't putting on a show of the relationship, but when he overheard her just talking to Don and laughing with him, naturally. This is when he wondered if she wasn't really falling for Don and would never want him again.

Meanwhile, Lindsey was practically bending Carol Ann over and fucking her right in front of Stevie and the band. Stevie knew they were living together, which was painful enough. But the nonstop demonstrations were making her jealous. She wanted so badly to be on the receiving end of his touch. They reminded her of what she'd lost, and she hated them both for it, making her reach for that little vial and her brandy more often than she ever had before.

The on again off again lovers grew more spiteful and more bitter, causing an ugly tension to permeate the entire band. They were hardly getting through any of the recording that needed to happen because of the constant arguments and the uncooperative nature of their relationship.

Lindsey was a stickler for perfection in the studio, and he knew just the thing to say to her to cut her deeply. He was carrying such a grudge during those days that he used anything he could to hurt her. She turned to substances to keep going.

While she loved music and playing for the crowds, she wondered if there hadn't been an easier path. Having your heart destroyed daily for your job or your art couldn't be normal. She didn't know the dangers of the chemicals she was using at that time, but she knew she needed them to keep this up.

Christine, John, and Mick had dealt with the pair long enough to know that there was no middle ground. They were going at it in bed or going at it in arguments. The band hoped that soon the pendulum would swing towards landing the two back in each other's beds so they could stop the ridiculous bickering and back-biting they were doing now and finish the job at hand. It was only a matter of time, they all knew, even if Stevie and Lindsey denied it.

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Of course, Lindsey thought, all the years later, the band was right. That pendulum always swung between extremes. He still felt all the things for Stevie. He loved her with a passion that never went away. He still felt the sting of her rejection of him.

He blamed her for a lot of the problems between them, including kicking him out of Fleetwood Mac. He blamed her for all the times it didn't work out between them. He blamed her for not loving him. Though, he knew that a lack of love had never actually been their problem.

This tentative peace, this lull between them now, was uncharted territory. Even after his ridiculous behavior the other night and the argument that followed, things were sorted out pretty quickly. That was new.

He wondered if they'd finally matured, and this was their relationship now. Or if this was simply the calm before the storm. Only time would tell.