My arms hang around his neck, and his hands rest on my waist, holding me against him. I'm too afraid of what comes next to stop kissing him, so I kiss him until my lips hurt, knowing he isn't going to take the next step. He doesn't want me to feel like he's pushing me.
"Lindsey, this is okay," I assure him.
"Are you sure?"
"I'll tell you if it isn't." Maybe it's too soon, but it feels so good to be touched like this that I don't want it to stop. It's been ages since anyone has been so gentle with me.
His hands start to travel down my body, wandering down to the hem of my nightie. He slides it up to my waist, clutching at my exposed hips. Only now do I realize that he's still got his jacket on, and I maneuver it off him, tossing it to the floor and sliding my hands up the back of his tee shirt. He removes it and I press my fingers into his skin, planting kisses on his chest. He twists my hair in his fingers, exhaling deeply.
I take his hand and lead him to the bed, letting him lay me down and kiss my neck and chest. He starts to slide my nightie over my head, pausing to look at me for permission. I raise my arms and he takes it off, leaving me almost entirely exposed, barely covered by my underwear. He runs his hands over my ribcage, lightly tracing the remaining bruises. He kneels between my legs and looks down at me, trying to stay in control. "Are you still okay?"
I smile up at him and my hands clutch at his hips, pulling him down on me. "I'm remembering how good this can feel."
He slides his arms under me and kisses me, then my chin, neck and breasts. He kisses every mark on my body, and I know he's trying to make them disappear. He slides my underwear down my thighs, again looking to me for permission. I respond by helping him remove them, and he quickly brings his mouth between my legs, forcing an involuntary moan from me. I arch my back and grab his hair, gripping his head with my thighs. When he finally comes up for air, I pull him back up to me, fumbling with his zipper. He helps me remove his jeans, then positions himself over me, his eyes locking on mine. He runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my face everywhere, and I feel myself smiling. "You are so beautiful."
"Now, Lindsey." He has never been as careful with me as he's being now, and I know he's afraid he's going to hurt me. At some point I realize that I forgot what it feels like to be loved, and I start to cry. He immediately stops and wipes tears from my face.
"You're crying."
"Good tears," I say, wriggling my hips under his to encourage him. "Love me."
He keeps holding my face, whispering sweet things to me, holding on until I finish. He collapses on top of me, and I trace the muscles in his back, comforted by his weight on me. "I love you," he says, propping himself up to look at me again.
"I love you," I say back, touching his face.
"Please don't ever shut me out again."
"I won't."
"I mean it. I can't be away from you anymore." He seems almost fragile right now, and I know how serious he's being.
"I don't want to be away from you either," I assure him, curling up against him and rubbing his back. This is where I'm supposed to be, no matter how much I fight it.
The next day, he convinced me to go the the studio. I know the album is close to being finished now, and they're waiting on my vocals to call it complete. I finally feel like singing again, as long as he's with me.
He drives me to the studio, and we walk in together. The rest of the band looks stunned to see me, and I smile, trying to pretend that they know nothing. My sunglasses cover the remaining bruising... I almost look normal for the first time in a while.
"It's good to see you," says Chris, kissing my cheek. I give her an appreciative hug and then turn to Mick, who is barely concealing his frustration. He hasn't been filled in.
"Nice of you to join us."
"Mick, don't give her a hard time," says Lindsey, putting his hand on the small of my back. I give him a grateful glance and let him lead me into the control room. "I took some liberty and laid down some tracks for When I See You Again. If you like them, we can just cut your vocals today."
"Let's hear it, I say, joining John on the couch. he grips my shoulder and smiles at me. He won't say anything, but he's always been more intuitive than Mick. He knows there is a reason for my absence.
He plays some stripped down tracks and I hum along with them, my eyes closed. They're perfect. I had given him a rough piano demo the day after I'd left and forgotten about it. He translated it into exactly what I needed it to be.
"So?" I realize the song has ended and they're all waiting for my response.
"It's exactly what I heard when I wrote it. Let me track it."
He gestures to the vocal booth and I take my position behind the microphone, putting the giant headphones on my head. I take a seat and close my eyes, nodding when I hear Lindsey ask if I'm ready through the monitor. He lets me sing it through, and I realize when I'm done that everyone is crying.
"You can sing it a couple more times. But that's out cut," he says, smiling through the glass.
I can still do this.
