Recovery Pt. 06

"So, you were using her?" I asked.

"Yes, I was," Mollie admitted, her eyebrows raised. "At first. But how can anyone not just love her? She's sweet and true and faithful and smart...smart in ways I'll never understand. Plus, I don't think she understands how gorgeous she is, if you can believe that. She has somehow trusted me enough to share things with me. Important things." She got a far-off look on her pretty face.

I had my suspicions but... "Things like what?"

"Oh, no, Peter," she said with a laugh. "I will not lose her trust." She pointed at the side of her head. "Those things are in the vault."

There was a bustling coming from upstairs. "I'm almost ready, Mollie!" Dottie yelled.

"See?" Mollie asked. "This is a good example." She framed her face with her fingers and smiled. "It takes me an hour to look like this in the morning. You know she's going to come downstairs in like two minutes and make me look like I just got out of the coal mine. She might put on some eyeliner but that's usually about it and she'll still look perfect."

On cue, Dottie hopped downstairs dressed in white capris with a blue and yellow flower print at the bottom of the legs. She was wearing a light blue, button-down shirt untucked. It lay across her breasts so perfectly, I hoped Mollie didn't see my eyes bug-out. On her feet she had a pair of white low-top Chuck Taylors. Her hair ran down her back, straight as a pin. So straight, in fact, she had to have taken time to use a straightener. And, of course, eyeliner and nothing else. Somehow, Dottie squeezed an hour's worth of primping into 15 minutes. Her smile almost made me melt.

As she ran up to us, I could smell her raspberry body wash. Something about her body chemistry made that soap smell like heaven. I glanced down quickly at my crotch. Don't you fucking budge, you asshole.

Mollie raised her eyebrows and gestured toward Dottie, as if to say, "Right?"

I shrugged and used what I hoped was a noncommittal expression. I wasn't going to let Mollie trap me.

"Did Peter tell you he's playing at another party this weekend?" Dottie asked Mollie.

"No," Mollie replied. "That's cool, Peter. Another birthday?"

"Actually," I answered, "it's a graduation party this time. You probably know her, she's from your school. Lisa Amador."

Mollie sat up straight. "Oh, I know Lisa! She's kind of a bitch, a cheerleader, but she's super rich. They have a huge house way out on Harrison, with a pool and an orchard. Like 12 cars. She has an older brother, Dave..." She glanced over at me. "Well, never mind about him." There was a glint in her eye that hinted at mischief. "I am so getting us invited to that party."

As the girls turned to leave, I said, "Practice at 6:30, okay?"

Dottie smiled. "I'll be ready. It'll be fun."

*******

I ran into Celeste on campus after my English 102 exam. She looked radiant and excited to see me. That made me happy because I thought for sure she'd be upset about me spurning her. She approached me in the Liberal Arts building wearing tight jeans and a very flattering western-style shirt. Her chestnut hair was bound into a tight braid and her blue eyes were sparkling.

Celeste bounced over to me with a big smile. "Hi, Peter!"

My voice caught. "Hi, Celeste, you..." Smooth, Peter.

She looked quickly down at herself in dismay. "What? What's wrong?" She smoothed her shirt down.

"What? No, nothing. You just look great." What the hell? Why was I getting a twinge in my gut?

She giggled. "Oh, thanks. I have a job interview this afternoon. It's at a western-wear store."

"Western wear?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "You don't seem like a cowgirl."

She laughed at this and grabbed my forearm. Her smile faded quickly, and she pulled her hand away. "Oh, sorry, Peter."

"Celeste, don't be sorry." I tried smiling reassuringly. "We're friends, right?"

Her smile returned and she said, "Whew! I'm so glad. I think we can be great friends." She looked back down at her outfit and added, "Yeah, I know. I don't usually dress like this, but I was on my first horse when I was four years old. We never had the money to own one, but Ashley's family has like ten of them."

I walked with her to her next class. "Why are you trying to get a job now?"

"I want to get a job I can start when I get back from my parents' house in a couple weeks. I've had two other interviews but they both wanted me to start right away but I can't. My parents would kill me if I didn't go see them after finals. It's so annoying. I love my parents, but I just saw them like two weeks ago. They're only 100 miles away." She paused and a look of consternation crossed her pretty face. "Oh, Peter, that's really insensitive of me. I'm sorry." She stepped back. "I'm doing great, huh? I've walked with you for five minutes and I've already had to say 'sorry' twice."

I tried smiling reassuringly. "Don't stress, Celeste. It's okay. We're good." She was obviously distressed about referencing my dead parents.

She stood awkwardly outside her classroom for a moment. "So." She touched my arm with just a fingertip and smiled. "I'm a touchy person. Just one finger, though, okay?" She looked up into my eyes and I just smiled. "What are you doing this weekend?"

The warmth of that one finger spread up my arm and into the rest of my body. "I, uh..." I stammered, then cleared my throat. "I'm working Friday morning and then Dottie's graduation. Saturday I'm playing with my friend's band at a grad party. Might be fun," I said with a shrug.

"Sounds like it. Don't sound so excited." She laughed. "Ashley and I are probably just going to go to a movie Saturday. You know, speaking of Ashley, I think she kind of has the hots for your sister." She smiled coyly.

"Yeah, Dottie kind of thought so. But, you know, Dottie isn't into girls."

Celeste laughed. "I know and so does Ashley. Doesn't make Dottie any less attractive, though. She's gorgeous. She probably gets hit on every day."

"Probably," I replied. "But she's pretty oblivious about those things. She probably doesn't even notice, or if she does, she just ignores it."

"I'll bet you had to slap a few guys around who were messing with her over the years."

"Just once actually. She can take care of herself usually."

"What was that once?"

This conversation was making me a little uncomfortable. I'm a lover, not a fighter, as the old saying goes. "My junior year in high school there was a kid on my baseball team, Jason Hendrick, who was constantly talking about Dottie. 'Your sister is so hot,' or 'Why is that body wasted on a nerd?' or 'Think you can hook us up?'. The worst was when he said, 'There's probably a couple times you forgot she was your sister, huh?' He thought it was funny. I most definitely did not."

"Sounds like an ass. What did you do?"

I fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, I'm not proud of it but I broke his nose. I wanted to break his arm, but he was our star pitcher."

"Did it shut him up?"

"Yeah, he definitely stopped talking about Dottie like that. He apologized to me and said he was trying to be funny. We actually became pretty good friends after that. He's playing ball at Notre Dame now. Well, sitting on the bench at Notre Dame, to be accurate, but on scholarship. So that's a pretty good gig."

"Were you pretty good?"

"At baseball? I think so. I pitched some but mostly played third base. I could hit pretty well and pretty far."

"My boyfriend in high school was a third baseman. He couldn't hit if you threw him a basketball." We both laughed. "Why didn't you continue playing?"

"My junior year, I had scouts coming to see me nearly every game. It was cool. The first game of Districts that year I tore my ACL and PCL sliding into second base. Then that summer I tried to push myself too early and reinjured my ACL, so that was pretty much it for baseball for me. No one wanted a young guy with a bum knee on their team. It's okay, though. I'm not sure I really wanted to do it anyway."

I looked around and noticed she and I were the only ones in the hall. "Looks like your late for your exam."

Celeste glanced around. "Yeah. My teacher's cool though. I'll see you tomorrow in class, okay?"

"I'll be there."

She turned and headed into the room. I instinctively looked down at her butt as she walked in. God, it was beautiful in those tight jeans, and she had the perfect amount of sway in her hips. I tore my eyes away before she could catch me looking.

There was a chair outside Celeste's classroom and I sat in it, staring at my shoes. I was all alone in the hallway but could hear the muffled sounds of teachers lecturing.

What. The. Fuck. Why was Celeste having this effect on me? Sure, she was beautiful and sweet, but I was already involved with a beautiful and sweet girl, the best of the best. I spent the whole morning pledging my eternal and undying love to Dottie, only to go to school and get my stomach all twisted into a knot because of Celeste.

I sighed loudly, stood, threw my backpack over my shoulder and headed to my car.

*******

Dottie texted me to say she was going to the mall with Mollie and Carlie after school but that she would be home before 6:30. Perfect! I would have just enough time for a quick nap when I got home.

I made sure I had everything ready for practice: my beautiful, black, restored 1965 Fender Strat, my distortion and wah-wah pedals, my mic and stand, my Crate FW120 amp, and a handful of picks. I set everything by the front door and headed back upstairs for some quick shuteye.

At some point after I dozed off, my bed shifting woke me slightly. I cracked my eyes open to see Dottie staring at me, just inches in front of my face, smiling. She smelled amazing and my stomach fluttered. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips, then lay down and snuggled up to me.

"I love you, Peter," she whispered.

I reached around and cupped her butt, encased perfectly in silky black panties, and kneaded softly. "I love you, Dottie."

I drifted back to sleep.

*******

Dottie and I had a quick snack when we woke up. The whole time we were getting ready to go Dottie put off getting dressed. She made me a sandwich and helped me get everything ready to load in my Jeep. We sat at the table and talked. She spent the whole time in her panties and T-shirt, with no bra. She was teasing me.

Most of the time she would just chat but used every excuse to turn away from me and bend over or push her perfect butt out. She would run her hands over her breasts and smile at me. She never made reference to it at all. She never said, "You want this, don't you?" or "Have you ever seen anything like this?" or "We should go upstairs and work off some energy." She just teased and posed and kept me hard for an hour.

She frequently said, "I love you," and "I'm excited to see you play tonight" and even "You are so handsome." She let me rub her butt on occasion but would always giggle and move away. I could see the love and lust in her eyes but that's where it stayed.

I asked her, "Why are you teasing me, Dottie?"

She giggled and said, "I'm not teasing you, Peter." She leaned into me and pecked me lightly on the lips. "I'm loving you."

Eventually, everything loaded in the car, we headed to Steve's place. He lived in a slightly more run-down section of Columbus. The Benders lived in a manufactured home with a detached garage, a large shed really. No cars were parked in it but it was filled floor to ceiling with boxes of memories, books, old clothing, etc. It also had Steve's Tama 7-piece, his brother's Peavey bass, microphone stands, a mixer, and multiple amps.

Steve was dressed in a dirty pair of 501's and a Sepultura T-shirt. His straight brown hair hung limp down below his shoulders. He had the most brilliant bushy porn-stache I had ever seen on anyone, let alone a 21-year-old kid. He was always super animated and was frequently beating out cadences on whatever was handy; tabletops, counters, his leg, a steering wheel, all were fair game to a sound finger-tapping.

Steve came to my Jeep while we unloaded my equipment. He grabbed my amp and mic stand and looked over to Dottie. "Hello, Dottie. It's good to see you again." It was very interesting: I was 100% sure Steve was straight, but he talked to Dottie and did not once look at her boobs. He just looked at her directly in the eye and smiled. He was quickly becoming one of my favorite people. Despite his rumpled look, with his crooked nose and large Adam's apple, he was very bright and well-spoken.

Dottie was dressed in the same white capris she wore to school. She put her hair in a loose braid and wore little makeup, as was common for her.

As we were setting up my gear in the garage, William walked in and we could instantly see, without hearing him play, what he brought to this practice and this "band". He was tall and thin like his brother but was a much better-looking guy. He had blond hair that he kept short and stylish. He wasn't cursed with the big nose or bobbing laryngeal prominence that his brother was saddled with. He had an air about him that was very charismatic. I glanced over at Dottie and could tell she could feel it as well; William exuded confidence and presence.

Steve cleared his throat. "Peter, Dottie, this is William. Don't let his ugly face scare you off. He's an okay bass player, he's not completely useless."

William shook my hand and smiled at Dottie. He showed me his bass and we tuned our instruments together. While I got my microphone and pedals set up, William started riffing, mostly just scales, stretching his fingers out. He seemed to play a lot of slap, a little like Flea, which I loved. He began warming up with the intro to "Higher Ground" and I knew right then that he was special. I knew the song well and tried to keep up with him.

"Shit, guys," Steve interjected, "we haven't even started yet! At least let me find my damned sticks."

Dottie sat quietly on a stool off to the side and had a glorious smile plastered on her gorgeous face. She was leaning forward with her hands on her knees, watching me, mouthing the words to "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You".

Daniel, the guy who sang with Steve and I when we played at the birthday party, moved to Miami with his girlfriend a month ago so it kind of left William and I to split singing duties. Daniel wasn't that good anyway, a mediocre bass player at best. William's voice was really rough but not completely unpleasant and mine was okay, but I always felt really uncomfortable singing. Dottie said I sounded like an American Paul Rodgers. Ha! In my dreams! Love obviously made her tone deaf.

Practice went well, much better than I had anticipated. William was as good as advertised. There seemed to be nothing he couldn't do musically. During a break I strummed out the chords for "Wonderful Tonight" and William perked up and said, "Clapton." He jumped right in and sounded perfect.

Of course, Steve was just as good as I remember. There was nothing finesse with how he played. He obviously had a lot of punk and metal influence in his style; he always played as if he was angry at his kit. When we played the birthday party a few months before, Steve broke the head of his bass drum while playing Green Day's "Basket Case." We had to wait ten minutes or so while he replaced and tuned the new head but the group of teenagers watching us didn't seem to mind. They cheered fervently at his obvious overzealous passion while playing.

Midway through "Paint it Black" (which, fortunately, William was singing), I glanced over to Dottie, who was piercing right through me with the most powerful look of lust. It penetrated through me so quickly and completely that I drifted off time. I could see it plain as day. Dottie wanted to fuck. Like, right at that moment. I'd created a monster.

I struggled to catch up with the song but it had passed me by. The music faded out.

"Damn it." I took a long pull off my water bottle, glancing over at a smirking Dottie. "Sorry guys, I got lost for a second there."

"It's okay," Steve said. "You played it at that party just fine. You know the song."

"Yeah, I think I'm just a little beat. I have exactly two more hours of college left this semester."

"Alright, maybe we'll call it a night. Can we maybe get together Saturday afternoon and practice before the grad party? I really want to get Billy's song down, it fuckin' rocks." Steve clapped his brother on the back.

William raised his hand in a rather comical way. "Me," he said with a smile. "I'm Billy."

We all laughed, and I noticed Dottie was looking at William in a way I wasn't particularly comfortable with. Deep down inside I knew it was nothing, but I couldn't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy. Why wouldn't she find William attractive? He was a good-looking guy. He was a musician. He made her laugh.

I was getting too much into my own head. I tried to snap out of my brooding and glanced back to Dottie. She was staring right at me, her gray eyes plainly showing her love for me. She was standing next to me and softly tapped my foot with hers.

"Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys," Dottie said. "I think we're leaving?" She looked questioningly at me.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," I answered. "Sorry. Guess I'm wiped. Tomorrow is my last day of school for three months and I'm totally out of it."

Steve laughed. "You make it sound like the last day of school is a bad thing. I ran screaming out of school after my last day three years ago."

I loaded up my gear into my Jeep and we headed home. I tried desperately to break out of my funk during the drive, looking straight ahead, eyes fixed on the license plate of the car in front of me. Dottie didn't say anything to me for five minutes, but I could feel her eyes on me.

She giggled. Of all the things to happen in what felt to me to be a tense moment, she giggled.

I glanced over to her. "What?"

She put her hand over her mouth, which was curled into a subtle smile. "Oh my god."

I paused before speaking. I was starting to feel a little annoyed. "Are you going to tell me what you're laughing about?"

She touched my chin with her finger and turned my face to her. She sported a bemused expression as she placed her hand softly on my thigh. I turned my eyes back to the road and thrummed my finger on the steering wheel, trying to ignore her look.

"I'm trying to drive here," I said.

Dottie leaned slowly toward me until her face was right in front of mine, partially blocking my view of the road. She had such delight on her face, it was kind of pissing me off.

"Peter, really?"

"What are you doing? I'm trying to get us home in one piece."

She squeezed my leg but didn't move back to her side of the car. I had to shift over a little so we didn't crash.

"Peter, oh my god. You are jealous!"

I glanced back at her. Yes, my brilliant sister hit it right on the nose. As if I could possibly get something by her.

"Jealous? What are you talking about?" I tried my best to look aghast.

"You're jealous of William. Do you think I could possibly miss that?" She rubbed lightly up and down my thigh. "Have you ever heard the expression 'wear your heart on your sleeve'? You're terrible at hiding your feelings."

I returned to thrumming my fingers lightly on the steering wheel, trying, but failing to look like this conversation was not bothering me.

"Well, can you blame me?" I asked. "I just got you and I already have to compete? I don't think that's a battle I can win."

"Why do you think you have to compete? Is it because William is attractive? There are a lot of good-looking guys out there. Are you going to have to compete with all of them?" Her lips grazed my cheek, and she brought her mouth up to my ear.

"Did I not make myself sufficiently clear, Peter?" she whispered, her lips brushing my ear lobe like a feather. "There is only you. There will only ever be you."