I Know Who You Are

"No card, no flowers, no candy...just the fixings for breakfast."

He smirked, "Okay. What's for breakfast?"

"I make a sort of casserole with eggs, bacon and sausage, hash browns, and onion."

"Sounds terrible for me," he frowned.

"It better be," I answered and stuck my tongue out at him. "Come here," I said as I handed him a bottle of Prosecco. "Open this for the mimosas."

He shook his head in annoyance. He knew what I was doing and didn't like it. I may not have called it celebrating Valentine's Day, but it certainly was what I was doing.

He popped the cork and handed me the bottle.

"Thanks. Oh! And I'm going to sit on your lap and kiss you while it's baking."

That earned me a smile he couldn't hide.

***

He cut the bacon while I browned the sausage. I looked at his back, which was turned to me, and sighed. He had his sad posture on. I had to stop that and quickly.

"Hey, Smith?"

"Yeah?" he asked without turning around.

"How old are you?"

He stopped cutting and turned, "I'm 33, why?"

"Can't I know?"

He smiled, "I suppose. Does my age matter?"

"Does mine?" I countered.

"Nope. I look like a god when I walk into a room with a young hottie like you. Every man is jealous."

I laughed. "You're such a doofus."

"Bacon's ready, what's next?" he asked ignoring my protest.

"Drop it in the mixing bowl there."

I finished putting the rest of the ingredients together, put them into a baking dish, and put it in the oven.

I washed my hands and said, "We can do this on the couch or on a kitchen chair, which do you prefer."

"I thought you were kidding," he smiled.

"I never kid about kissing, buddy. Stretch out those lips and get ready."

He looked nervous and it made me smile. He was so cute when he was out of his comfort zone.

I took his hand and led him to his living room. It was much nicer and more finely appointed than my great room, and I finally saw the piano.

He saw me stare at it and said, "The acoustics in that spot are the best in the room."

I shrugged my shoulders and gently pushed him onto the couch. I followed and planted my tight little tush right on his left leg.

"You may kiss me, great knight."

He laughed and said, "If I must."

"You must, you must," I said before I pressed my lips against his. They were soft and tasted like the mimosa he sipped.

He broke the tender kiss and looked at me with a smirk, "You're pretty aggressive for someone so young."

"What can I say?" I answered. "When I want something, I go for it. Is that a problem for you?"

"No. I'm just surprised by your maturity. Well, except for you still calling your father daddy."

"He'll always be my daddy, buster, and don't you forget it."

"Okay, feisty. Settle down."

I pulled his face to mine, and we began to make out.

***

After breakfast, I took my drink into his living room and sat at his piano. I didn't know how to play, so I just pushed the keys randomly.

He walked in and said, "Wow! You're pretty bad." He sat next to me on the small bench and played some kind of flourish that sounded amazing.

"Play me a song, maestro," I asked. I hoped to get him to play some songs that weren't that same old piece of a song he was wasting away over.

He looked at the keyboard and made a big show of cracking his knuckles.

"Okay, bugs bunny," I said laughing.

He smiled and played the beginning to Let It Be.

"Something from my lifetime," I moaned.

"Some songs are timeless, my dear," he said and started playing Bohemian Rhapsody.

"Play one of yours. Play me 'Her Smile.'"

That was one of his songs I liked that God damned Lindsay Taylor didn't sing.

He frowned but began playing the beautiful piano intro and then the vocal melody.

"You're so amazing," I said and rested my head on his shoulder.

"Nah," he disagreed. "Playing piano is easy."

"That's not what I meant. You write songs that people make love to. You write songs that people dance to at their wedding or prom. What you give to the world matters to people."

"Those days are gone, I'm afraid."

He slid off the bench and went back to the kitchen to refill our glasses. I hoped I didn't upset him. I was trying to get him out of his block, not make the situation worse.

He came back with a tray of coffee and our refilled mimosas. "Sit with me for a minute," he asked.

I sat next to him and sipped some coffee.

"Teagan, I know what you're doing and I'm not mad about it. What you don't understand is that when I write a song, it's not just chords and notes in a key put in a pleasing sounding order. There's an extreme amount of emotion in every song I've written. I've written melodies that brought me to tears as I played them. I've written lyrics that made me angry to the point of breaking something. That's why it's so difficult to finish that piece. The emotion isn't there for me anymore."

"I get it..."

He cut me off. " Not really. You see that chord progression is in the key of G. The chords are the same as a hundred other songs. G, C, D."

He walked to the piano and started playing and singing Ring of Fire, then Sweet Home Alabama. He stopped and walked back and took my hands.

"Teagan, do those songs sound the same?"

I shook my head.

"Exactly. They all use the same chords yet go to different places with them. It's the different places that come from the heart. I could simply change keys and play a textbook chord pattern for the verse, and it would sound like it made sense but there's no heart there."

He paused and drank a bit of coffee.

"I don't write like that. My hits all pretty much follow the same patterns that all songwriters use, because they are time tested and sound good, but we use our heart and soul to take them different places. Sometimes I slide in notes that are out of key. Sometimes I resolve to a chord that is outside the norms, it's from here," he thumped his chest. "and that's gone now. She took it from me."

I saw the tear fall down his cheek. I wiped it with my thumb and said, "I watched a video of you playing with her on Valentine's Day. That was the day you found out she cheated on you, wasn't it?"

He shook his head. "I knew she was changing. When she hit it big, her time was taken up by the business. I knew how it worked and expected it, but she promised that she wouldn't let it ruin our relationship. I gave her an out. I told her that I'd let her go and she could experience her new life without me holding her back. I even offered to still have a working relationship and write her songs, but she said no. She said she didn't want to lose me, and I bought it. I ended up proposing to her on the next Valentine's Day. After making love to her that night, I wrote 'Without Love, There's No Life.' It ended up being her biggest hit so far. Anyway, she went on tour for six months, and I didn't see her until she came back to Nashville to record her album. I had all the songs ready for her, and life was good.

"Then she went on tour for the entire winter. She didn't even come home for the holidays. Well, I hadn't heard from her for a couple of weeks, so I flew out to that television performance. I figured we could go out and celebrate Valentine's day afterward. When I walked up to the door of her dressing room, I thought I heard the sound of sex, but I wasn't sure. I was pulled away by her manager when he saw me about to enter. He asked me to play on the show that was taping that afternoon. I agreed, of course.

"She didn't know I was there until a few minutes later when she came out of her room for rehearsal. She made a big deal out of kissing me and turning my back to the dressing room door. I never saw if there was someone in there with her.

"I didn't notice she wasn't wearing her ring until I saw her flirting with her guitar player on that stage. I was so pissed at her flagrant disrespect of me, I finished the song and stormed off the stage. I stopped in her dressing room and found her ring in her purse with her cell phone. I opened up her phone and there were dick pics and dirty texts that told me she was fucking her guitar player. I took the phone, the ring, and I wrote 'we're through,' on the mirror with her lipstick."

"I'm so sorry, Smith," I whispered.

He nodded and gave me a wan smile. "I went through her phone during the flight home. She was exchanging naked pictures with several guys, including her manager. That guy was old enough to be her grandfather. I guess she got off on doing it or something, because it didn't seem like they were having sex. There were other texts from other guys though she was definitely screwing. She didn't bother deleting anything."

"God damned Lindsay Taylor," I said. "I can't believe it never got out. I'd think you dumping her for being the biggest slut in the music industry would've made waves."

He shook his head. "I'm not real proud of it, but I extorted her with the phone. I told her if anyone found out why I broke up with her, she'd see her and her friends' nude pictures all over the internet. From what I understand, she's spent a lot of money buying off reporters. I didn't want anyone to know I couldn't keep my fiancé happy."

"Wow. Remind me not to piss you off," I said as I hugged him. "Forget the bitch, Smith. You've got me now, and I'm a one-man kinda woman."

"I've got you, huh?" he asked and kissed me.

"Yep, and that comes with certain benefits."

He smiled his real smile and asked, "What would those be?"

I slid down to the floor and moved my hands up his thighs. "You know, this is our magical third date."

He smirked as I slid his sweatpants down. "I still think we've only had one date."

"Okay, I'll stop," I said and pulled my hands back.

"No, no! I'm willing to follow your train of thought on it."

"Thought you might," I said and pulled his boxers to his ankles. I smiled when his hardening shaft bounced up. "Very nice, Smith. Very nice."

I grabbed the base of his fully hard penis and took the head into my mouth.

"Mm," I moaned when I tasted his precum.

He held my hair back but didn't move my head as I bobbed along enjoying my new long, thick toy. He groaned when I started licking his balls and stroked him slowly to edge him.

"So, good, Teagan. So fucking good," he whispered as I continued my fellatio artistry. I was one of those stereotypical girls that kept her virginity by learning how to suck my boyfriends to pleasure rather than give them all of me. I eventually lost it in college and that opened up the flood gates but I learned to love giving blowjobs early.

I doubled my efforts. I wanted him to cum then and I felt his anxiousness to do it. I wondered when the last time he'd been with a woman was.

"I'm close, baby," he groaned and a few moments later the first spurt hit the back of my throat.

His legs shot out straight and it almost made me laugh. I couldn't see them, but I imagined his toes curled.

"Oh, shit! Teee-gaaaan."

His reactions were priceless. It was like my first time back in high school.

I cleaned him with my tongue slurped off him with an audible pop. "You liked that, huh?"

He smiled, "You have no idea. I've only had a handful in my life."

"What?" I shrieked.

"Mm, hm. I happened to have had back-to-back long-term relationships with women who refused to do it."

"You poor man. Well, I love to do it, so you're going to be a happy man, lover."

God damned, Lindsay Taylor.

***

"Do you have a plan for lunch, honey?" he asked as I woke up in his arms. He fell asleep after the blowjob, and instead of waking him, I snuggled up into his chest for my own nap.

"Nope," I lied. "I wasn't sure you would even answer the door this morning, so I didn't think of much more than breakfast."

"I'm surprised I let you in. I wondered if you were going to do some sort of Valentine's Day ambush on me, and you certainly did."

"Hey!" I said. "I already told you this isn't about V-day."

"And you're not a good liar."

I laughed and said, "Okay. What's next is I was going to order lunch in because I hoped we'd be naked in bed. You changed that by falling asleep on me. Typical guy. Gets his rocks off and falls straight to sleep."

"In my defense, I didn't get much sleep last night. Today is a rough day for me."

Just as I was about to kiss him and tell him I would make sure it was a good day, the doorbell rang.

"Would you mind answering that, Teagan? I don't want to deal with anyone except you today."

"Sure, baby," I said. I bounced to the door and received the biggest shock I'd ever got in my life.

"What the hell do you want, bitch?" I shouted at God damned Lindsay Taylor.

She stepped back as if my words physically hit her.

"Is this Smith Carlisle's house?" she asked meekly.

I looked her up and down and she wasn't dressed like a mega-star celebrity. She had on simple leggings, sneakers, and a puffy overcoat. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.

"No!" I growled and slammed the door.

Smith came around the corner and smiled, "Pretty rough on the Jehovah's Witness there, weren't you?"

The bell rang again, and I said, "Don't open it."

He looked out the window and said, "Jesus Christ, what the hell is she doing here. Just let her in. The faster I deal with this, the faster she'll be gone."

I glared at him and said, "I won't let her ruin our day. She needs to just go."

"I'll see her and that's the end of it, Teagan," he said forcefully, as if that had some kind of effect on me.

"Let me make her go," I demanded, angry that he wouldn't listen to me.

He shook his head no. I grabbed my purse and coat from the table and walked into his garage. As I was waiting for the garage door to open he begged, "Don't go. It will..."

I didn't hear the rest. I was out the door and in my house in seconds. God damned Lindsay Taylor.

I threw myself onto the couch and cried. It was irrational but I thought he was going to fall back under her spell, and I lost him. I couldn't be there for that. I couldn't let him see my heart break for him.

Why did she have to come back at that moment? I had my breakthrough with him. He played piano for me. He let me be with him on Valentine's Day. It was all falling into place until God damned Lindsay Taylor showed up on his doorstep.

I could see it in my heart. I just knew at that moment she was spreading her legs and reeling him back in like some kind of succubus, taking advantage of him in his weakened state. I cursed her name and vowed I wouldn't be there when she hurt him again, and she would. She was the worst kind of bad for him. She had no respect for him. She wanted only wanted him for his songs. Only she didn't know she broke him. She was a user; she didn't love him. She couldn't love him and do what she did to him.

Then I had the worst thought yet; what if he finished the song. Would her coming back to him be the salvation I wasn't? The thought tore at my heart.

I don't know how long I was motionless on my couch, but the piano began playing at Smith's house. It was loud and angry, as if he were banging on the keys as hard as he could again; and then it softened. What he played next was beautiful. The melody weaved seamlessly with the chords that came from his fingers.

I walked to the wall and touched it. It may have been my imagination, but I felt the vibrations from his playing coming through the wall into my hand. I cried as the melody started again and was even more beautiful the second time.

I wondered what song it was as I knew I never heard it before. It had a majesty about it that would make Meat Loaf jealous, and then it stopped. I sat against the wall, desperate to hear more. I felt as if it were the swan song of my brief love affair with him, and I didn't want it to end.

There was a knock at my door. I ran to it and threw it open, begging God to let it be Smith.

"Can we have lunch now?" was all he said.

"Where's..."

"Gone."

I looked at him and he smiled widely, "For good." He took my hand and said, "Come on, I have a song to finish while you order lunch."

"You mean..."

He nodded. I grabbed him into a hug and sobbed into his shoulder. After a few moments, I calmed and said, "Maybe cut out the first part, it sounded angry."

He laughed and said, "That's the point. It's a song of rebirth. The angry bit was the pain leaving my soul to make room for the beauty to come back." He kissed my forehead, "You are coming back, right?"

"I have to. Someone needs to return a certain favor."

He chuckled and said, "I don't know, I don't have a lot of experience with that either. I always figured if they wouldn't do me, I wouldn't do them."

"Oh, dear Smith. I am going to have so much fun while you build some experience."

"Me too, baby. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Smith."

We kissed a kiss of promise. I knew he was finally over her and had moved on. I never asked him about their last conversation and what finally purged her from his life and released his inner demons. It didn't matter to me. All I knew was I had him to myself, and he was able to share his talent with the world again. Life was good.