About the Author

 

 

 

I want my readers to understand that music means a great deal to me. In this book, I have used many songs to convey character feelings and emotions in each and every chapter. So much so, that each chapter title is a song. I spent many hours searching for songs that signify the narrative of each chapter and I hope that listening to the songs before you read each chapter will only help to enhance your reading experience. Go to my website www.authorkimkarr.com for song links to Spotify. And unfortunately, without permission from the artists I cannot include the actual lyrics in the narrative. What you see is a revised version to better fit the feelings and emotions of the chapter, not the actual lyrics. The exception to this is the use of a Maroon 5 song lyric for which I was granted permission to use.

 

 

 

Gnarls Barkley—Crazy, Prince—Purple Rain, Nirvana—Rape Me, U2—Beautiful Day Theory of a Deadman—Out of My Head, Michael Jackson—Thriller

Erykah Badu —Next Lifetime, Stevie Wonder—Superstition

 

3 Doors Down—It’s Not My Time, Gavin DeGraw—I’m In Love With A Girl Breaking Benjamin—The Diary of Jane

Gary Allen—Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain Taylor Swift—Begin Again, The Kinks—Lola Thriving Ivory—Where We Belong

Secondhand Serenade—Something More, Tom Petty—Free Fallin, U2—Beautiful Day Tenth Avenue North—Hold My Heart

Mazzy Star—Fade Into You

 

Nine Inch Nails —Closer, Robin Thicke—Sex Therapy

 

John Mayer —Say, Fuel—I Should Have Told You, Coldplay—Yellow

 

Teddy Geiger—Living For The First Time, Portishead—Glory Box, Every Avenue—Tell Me I’m A Wreck, Maroon 5—She Will Be Loved, AC/DC— Back In Black, Coldplay Avenue—Green Eyes

 

Adelitas Way—Alive, Rihanna—S&M, Enrique Iglesias—Dirty Dancer, Havana Brown—You’ll Be Mine, Enrique Iglesias—Tonight I’m F**king You, Saving Abel—Addicted

 

Hedley—Kiss You Inside Out, U2—Beautiful Day, Cheap Trick—I Want You To Want Me

 

The Veronicas—Speechless, Phil Collins—In The Air Tonight, Poison—Talk Dirty To Me, Adelitas Way—Dirty Little Thing

Phillip Phillips—Home The Who—Pinball Wizard

Justin Timberlake—Sexy Back

 

Dashboard Confessional—The Secret’s In The Telling One Direction—Little Things

Lifehouse (featuring Natasha Bedingfield)—Between The Raindrops Within Temptation—Memories, Smashing Pumpkins—Perfect Yellowcard—Miles Apart

Ivan & Alyosha—I Was Born To Love Her Rihanna—Diamonds

Avenged Sevenfold—Victim, Citizens—Amazing Grace

 

 

Sara Paxton—Connected

 

 

The Script—Breakeven, Go Radio—Go To Hell

 

I have visited this place many times, but today it’s different. I’m alone. There are no comforting arms around me. My body trembles. Not from the cold, but from the realization of fate. A single tear slowly drips down my face as I look into the night and scream, “Why couldn’t we just stay together?!”

As the wind moans in the distance, thunder crashes and lightning strikes. I stand here just hoping the impeding storm will carry me away and erase the shadow that looms over me. A slow soothing rain falls from the blackened sky, but it provides no relief to my ravaged soul. A mist slowly rises into the night, puddles form in various spots, and the cold air sends shivers down my spine. The dark, the storm—they are both upon me.

I’m a lone figure and I huddle to the ground feeling completely lost. As my tears merge with the rain into one slow dance, they only fall further into the darkness. No one is here to see me. No one knows where to find me. Only the vultures notice me as they fly swiftly overhead, seeking shelter against the cold rain. I’m not looking for refuge in this place I now despise, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no hope. I have no future. This is where I belong—in the darkness.

 

 

August 1999…

CRAZY

 

 

Every time we were there we had fun There was something special about the place Sights and sounds echoed throughout the space

And when we’re there we never had a care We were having the time of our lives.

 

Every sight and every sound told me this was the best place on earth. The arena was a buzz of activity: music roared through the speakers, electricity filled the air, and nameless people were rushing to find their seats. My father and I stopped quickly to purchase our concert t-shirts. Clutching our tickets tightly, we made our way through the crowd.

The excitement around us was immeasurable, almost indescribable. We sat down, mesmerized by what was before us. Looking at the stage, it was impossible to take everything in. Being so close was intoxicating. I was frozen with shock, and my eyes flickered through the rays of the spotlights as they made their way up the stairs.

Bono encouraged thousands of waving hands and nodding heads. Eventually, I gathered my senses and began to absorb my surroundings just as U2 began to play Beautiful Day. Slipping into an almost hypnotic state, I closed my eyes and swayed to the pulse of the beat as the vibrations penetrated my whole body. I stayed this way throughout most of the concert, just as I had so many times before.

Going to Greek Theatre, or The Greek as otherwise known, was an experience like no other. It was the largest indoor arena, and people of all kinds walked around to experience the ambiance. Famous people, unknown bands, known singers, groupies, and concertgoers came from miles around. They all loved it there, and so did I. I used to notice how all of the visitors’ shirts meshed together like a finely woven blanket with

different colors of yarn. Everyone came from different places, but they all were there for the same reason: to listen to the best music ever played.

My father was the general manager of The Greek. He loved music, mostly rock, eighties, and nineties. My dad had been going to concerts since he was thirteen and always bought a t-shirt. So to say he had a few concert t-shirts was putting it mildly. He started working at The Greek at a young age and never left simply because he loved his job. He accumulated so many stories and told me of numerous freak events. Having witnessed them first hand, he always knew the inside scoop and would share it with me. I was even lucky enough to have one of the Wear Purple ticket stubs from Prince’s sold-out Purple Rain concert in my possession.

There is one concert that will forever hold a place in my heart. It was the Nirvana benefit concert performed to raise money for Bosnian rape victims. They opened with the very emotional song Rape Me, and while the cause moved me, it was the emotion in the song that made me fall even more in love with music than I already was. After I left the concert that night, The Greek was not only my father’s favorite place to be, but mine too. My mom was not into music like my dad was; she preferred clothes to concerts. She taught me to sew, and together we made a quilt with the concert t-shirts I outgrew.

Between my father and I, we collected over two hundred pieces of chronicled music history.

Trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up was always puzzling. I was torn between my father’s love for music, my mother’s love for fashion, and my love for capturing images of all things beautiful. I thought maybe I’d have a music career or go to the New York School of Fashion and Design like my mother had. Whichever career path I chose needed to lead me toward being able to take pictures. Maybe someday I’d create my own dream job that blended all three!

 

 

 

 

October 2006…

OUT OF MY HEAD

 

 

You’re always in my head Maybe it’s the way you smile at me Maybe it’s the way you laugh with me

Maybe it’s that we’ve known each other so long Thoughts of you are always in my head.

 

Walking through the greek-lettered doors of Kappa Sigma, I felt like I’d just stepped onto a movie set. It was Halloween, everyone was wearing costumes, holding red Solo cups, and dancing... well, not everyone. I looked twice to be certain, but sure as shit, there was a large, dark-blue ice luge in the center of the living room. The guy at the bottom of the channel was my boyfriend, Ben, and the person in line behind him was my best friend, Aerie.

I didn’t go to a lot of fraternity parties, and looking at the two of them under the almost kid-sized slide, I now knew why.

Frowning at the sight of the two drunken idiots who had been on the receiving end of the ice luge a few too many times, I headed toward the kitchen to grab a beer. As I crossed back into the living room, I could see Ben sucking on a lime and squinting his eyes with his nose scrunched as he vigorously moved his head from side to side. He was making a vain attempt to relieve the potent impact of the countless shots he had just let flow freely down his throat. While shaking my head in amusement at him, I passed by a couple playing beer pong and giggled. If the state of the girl’s condition was any indication of her skill level, the guy was obviously a much better player.

Noticing me, Ben shot me a wicked smirk and crooked his index finger, gesturing me toward him. He strode a few steps closer; his gaze holding mine as the crowd cleared the way.

Standing face to face, I could see that his forget-me-not blue eyes were slightly hooded, allowing me only a glimpse of his dilated pupils. His sly grin was still present, which alerted me to his somewhat coherent state of mind.

Raising an eyebrow, I pointed to the dark-blue ice sculpture. “Hey, how many times did you hit that?”

Feigning confusion, he raised his hands palms up. “Not sure,” he said as he cocked his head to one side while shrugging his shoulders.

Ben took the cup out of my hand and set it on the table beside us. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. “Hey, Dahl. What took so long?” he asked as he rested his strong hands on my ass.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rested my forehead on his chin and let out a slow sigh. “Photo shoot took longer than expected. Drake had a meltdown when the models’ outfits weren’t the shade of purple he’d asked for.”

Ben groaned and dipped his head to kiss me. “Drake’s a fuckin’ pansy-ass. He better hope you find a new internship for next semester because he’s really starting to piss me off.”

Flinching a little at his words, I leaned back to place my hands on his hard chest before looking into his slightly glazed eyes. “Ben, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

“Will do. Promise, Dahl,” he chuckled, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. I sighed and ran my hands up to his hair, combing my fingers through it.

Looking at me with concern, he whispered, “You okay?”

“Of course. The wrong color purple isn’t really the end of the world.”

He studied me and hesitated before responding. “Dahl, you know that’s not what I mean.”

I stiffened. I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want to talk about the anniversary of my parents’ death.

“Ben, I’m cool. Let’s have a good time,” I muttered. I broke our embrace, grabbed my beer, and looked around the room for Aerie.

Ben nodded in acknowledgment, his sly grin returning while he watched me chug the entire contents of the Solo cup before chewing on the ice cubes that were left behind. Beckoning me to the center of the room, he swooshed his arm and pointed to the luge. “This way, gorgeous.”

Having refilled our drinks, we stood at the liquor-filled ice dispenser. The party was in full swing, and I watched Ben hit the luge yet again. I excused myself to use the restroom; I glanced around at the mass of people and pushed through the chaos. There were wall-to-wall people in every room. I stumbled into a tall guy with red hair, and I knew he was beyond drunk when he tried to kiss me. I shoved him and giggled when he tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass. I continued making my way to the stairs. They were covered with a throng of people that were drinking, making out, or doing way more than I ever needed to see.

The room smelled like alcohol mixed with sweat, and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t get out of there soon enough. I had to carefully weave around the crowd on the stairs and was thankful when I finally made it to the bathroom.

After I left the bathroom, I went to Ben’s room for a much needed mental break. This particular day was the hardest one of the year for me, but participating in the party festivities always seemed to help me through it. As I headed toward his bed, I noticed the tickets he gave me this morning. I knew he meant well buying us tickets to see one of my favorite bands, Maroon 5, perform at The Greek. I felt horrible about my knee-jerk reaction. When he gave them to me it was because he thought he would brighten an otherwise dark day for me, but I couldn’t go back there. I experienced such joy there with my dad, and I couldn’t bear it. It would only remind me how much I miss him.

Sighing, I threw myself on the bed. Yes, he meant well and he really wanted to be the one to take me there, but he knew I would never go back. I’ve told him this. When he bought those tickets, he probably thought he could bring back the happiness I once shared there with my father. Sadly, I haven’t been back to The Greek since I was fourteen years old and went to the U2 concert. It was the last concert I went to with my family before my mother, my aunt, and my father died in a small plane crash coming home from Mexico. So, going back to The Greek can never bring me happiness, only sadness at the loss of my family and my longing to have them back. I’m not sure how long I stayed in his room thinking about my parents until I finally decided to rejoin the party.

I stopped in the kitchen to grab a third beer, and then I headed back into the living room. All the lights had been turned off and orange candles glowed everywhere as the sound of haunting music filled the room.

I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and Ben nibbled on my ear. “Where you been, Dahl?”

“Just grabbing a beer,” I answered, holding my Solo cup up in the air and twisting around in his arms.

Loud screams diverted my attention back to the ice luge where Aerie was jumping up and down, grabbing her throat, and squealing as if in pain. Motioning my head toward her, I set my cup down on the banister. “What’s she drinking?”

Clutching his arms tighter around my hips, he pulled me closer to him. As he slipped his long fingers inside the waistband of my black leggings, he fingered the lace of my panties and whispered in my ear, “Don’t know.” Then he placed one of his legs between mine and asked, “Want some?”

I shook my head no and was nearly panting as I responded. “I promised Aerie I’d go with her to the bar and listen to some new band. One of us should stay somewhat lucid— at least until we get there.”

He trailed his hands across the top of my panties; the fingertips of his one hand grazed from my backside across to my hipbone. Before I knew what was happening, his fingers started drifting down into the front of my pants.

“I didn’t mean the luge,” he said coyly before plunging his tongue into my ear and grinding his hips into mine.

I pulled back from him and effectively removed his hands from inside my leggings. I needed to stop this very public display of affection before I couldn’t. I brushed his blond hair away from his seductive blue eyes and asked, “You coming?”

Grinning fiendishly, he answered, “I hope to be soon, gorgeous!”

I laughed and shook my head. “Ben Covington, you’re impossible.”

Loud music played overhead in the dimly lit room that was largely occupied by trick- or-treaters who paid no attention to us. I reached around his neck and tugged his head down to mine, melding my mouth to his. He really was something else.

Ben pulled his soft lips from mine and groaned in my ear. “My room now. I need to fuck you.”

I leaned back and stared at his incredibly irresistible grin. Summoning all of my willpower, I tried to decide what to do.

Before I could respond, Aerie tugged my ponytail. She had a light sway to her stance and with her slightly slurred words she said, “There you are, girlfriend! You ready?”

Disentangling myself from him, I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed, “Sorry. Rain check?”

He exhaled and muttered under his breath to Aerie, “Nice fucking timing.”

Aerie, being Aerie, thumped him in the forehead. “Watch the language, asshole,” she quipped haughtily as she reached for my arm.

Leaning back toward Ben, I gave him a swift kiss. With Aerie forcefully tugging me toward the door, I managed to say, “Meet you back here later.” Walking backwards and giggling, I blew Ben a kiss and waved goodbye.

Rocking back on his heels, he stood with both hands in his pockets while biting his lip and shaking his head at me.

 

 

The cool night helped to settle the heat Ben had just sparked in my body. Sounds of Halloween echoed from every direction as we walked down fraternity row. I put my hands over my ears to block the shrill of the annoying sounds filtering from house windows. I glanced at Aerie, or more specifically, at her devil costume. She must have been plastered when she got ready because it wasn’t something I could have ever imagined her wearing. It really was the most ridiculous outfit; a very short red sequin dress, high heels, and all the accessories to match. It could barely pass as an acceptable red-light district ensemble—let alone a Halloween costume.

As we walked toward the bar, I grabbed a stumbling Aerie by the arm before she landed on her ass. “Have a nice trip?” I laughed, knowing full well she didn’t like to be made fun of but not really caring right now.

Aerie shrugged, pulling her wavy beautiful blonde hair back and fastening it with the clip she had been fishing out of her purse when she missed her step. “Be nice,” she quipped, stopping me so she could readjust her shoe. “At least you can’t call me a non- conformist!” She stopped pouting, having resolved her anger toward my sarcastic remark by assaulting me with her drunken words.

I had never told Aerie that Halloween was the anniversary of my parents’ death. Ben was the only one who knew. He understood why I disliked Halloween and why I never dressed up. For me, it was already a dark day, and I never felt the need to cover my sadness by camouflaging my feelings with a costume.

I sighed at her intoxicated state and recognized my own, not exactly sober, frame of mind; I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and put on my very best Vincent Price voice from Thriller. “Ahhhahhahaaahaaa, you know I never conform. It’s against my religion.”

We continued walking—Aerie in red high-heel vixen pumps, me in black Converse sneakers—and she tripped again, leaving her shoe behind her this time. “Aerie, really, I think your outfit could have done without those shoes. They’re too big, you dumbass.” I turned around and picked up her shoe. “What size are these?” I asked, squinting to see inside the shoe.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s not like you’d ever wear them anyway, Miss I-Always-Have- to-Wear-Comfortable-Shoes. It was the only pair of red shoes left, and one size too big is hardly an issue when they match your outfit perfectly,” she announced, yanking the shoe out of my hand. “You know it’s all about the look. I’d sacrifice comfort for style any day. Ahem…” she cleared her throat while looking down at my shoes.

Shaking my head at her, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

I walked a little slower so she could keep her shoes on. Aerie said in a much sweeter voice, “Thanks for taking me out. Now, come on. Let’s get moving and have some fun. It’s girls’ night out after all, and I have a broken heart to mend.”

I gave her a little smile as I squeezed her arm. “Sweetheart, I think you started the mending process hours ago!”

Aerie shuffled down the sidewalk to hold her shoes in place, and I just knew this was going to be an interesting night. Aerie, my best friend since freshman year, broke up with her boyfriends like I changed the flavor of my coffee creamer—often.

Aerie was a Type-A personality, but you would never have known this in her drunken state. Her major flaw was her drive for perfection, not just with herself, but also with her boyfriends. When a guy fell short of the perfection she expected, she simply moved on. As was the case with her last boyfriend and she broke up with him yesterday. Tonight she was looking forward to new horizons, and I was looking forward to listening to a new band.

 

 

NEXT LIFETIME

 

 

What am I going to do I want you in my life

But I can’t have you for myself Because I belong to someone else So I’ll see you in our next lifetime.

 

 

We walked through the open door to the USC Campus Bar and Aerie pulled her tail up. “At least they aren’t playing that Halloween crap in here,” she yelled a little too loudly. As my ears adjusted to a more peaceful sound, I heard a velvety soft voice singing an unfamiliar, yet captivating song.

Aerie stopped to put her devil horns on, and I glanced through the large room at all of the familiar faces while trying to get a glimpse of the band on stage. I shouted directly into her ear, “They sound really good. Have you heard them before?”

She was on her toes trying to see over the crowd of people. I laughed at her short stature until her pointy devil horn hit me in the eye. “No, but love their sound,” she responded, still trying to see the stage and almost falling over.

I had been coming here for the last three years to listen to music, experience new bands, and dance. I couldn’t ever remember seeing this bar so crowded. There were so many people around I could barely see the long wooden bar to my right, and with the mass of bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the stage behind it.

Looking at Aerie, I asked, “Do you know their name?”

“I think they're called The Wilde Ones,” she hiccupped and laughed. She winked at me as she started to dance her way toward some friends she had just spotted on the dance floor and yelled over her shoulder, “By the way, I love them! Great name and an even greater sound.”

Aerie was like two people in one. Sober Aerie was a perfectly performing machine,

with impatience and order ingrained in her life. Drunken Aerie was a sober Aerie with fun and downright craziness mixed in. I’m not sure which one I preferred.

“I’ll get drinks and meet you out there in a bit,” I said to no one since she was already gone. Throngs of people surrounded me as I made my way to the bar. When the bartender acknowledged me, I ordered two beers, one with ice and one without, and tacked on two shots to continue in my quest to help Aerie drown out her misery.

The live music stopped and the typical mix of Halloween songs played throughout the room. I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd for Aerie. You would think she would be easy to spot in her red sequin devil costume. She said she was out for vengeance and if her outfit of choice was any indication, she was going to be vindicated.

Looking through the crowd, I didn’t see her anywhere but what I did see was one attractive silhouette, and I was drawn to it. The silhouette was that of a guy. He was still too far away for me to zero in on any specific physical feature. But something... no everything about him drew my attention.

I studied the silhouette’s movement and noticed the beauty of his walk; he was captivating and he oozed confidence. He seemed to be relaxed and not in a hurry, like he knew exactly where he was going. This attractive guy was strutting in my direction and as he got closer I was completely mesmerized. Biting my bottom lip, I was unable to focus on anything else but him. My head was still a little foggy from the three beers I had consumed earlier. I was clearly not thinking straight when I made eye contact with him and slowly studied his body from head to toe purposefully.

As the distance between us narrowed, I could see that his physical appearance was just as captivating as his walk. He was alarmingly attractive: long, lean, and muscular but not bulky. He wore a black beanie hat with his light brown hair sticking out here and there. When I looked into his eyes, they simply undid me. Although I couldn’t see their color, the intensity of them was extremely powerful. It was almost as though if I looked into them for too long I might never get out. His eyes aside, the words handsome and gorgeous weren't strong enough adjectives to describe him.

My mind wandered to where it shouldn't. Knowing better than to compare this captivating guy to my boyfriend, I did it anyway. I felt incredibly guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. My boyfriend was all surfer. He was attractive, hot, and sexy with an ego to match. This breathtaking guy was equally as attractive, hot, and sexy, but there was something else—something more. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Easing his way through the crowd, he removed his beanie, and ran his hands through his hair. I swear I could see a hint of copper peeking through his light brown locks. When our eyes connected it felt like minutes, in reality it was mere seconds. At that moment, something happened inside of me. The connection was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was an electric pull that willed me in and forced me to keep looking at him.

Everything I saw and everything I felt translated into three little words—he is dangerous. I knew I should look away, walk away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. He was just too alluring. I wanted to know everything about him and I hadn’t even met him yet. With those three words swirling around in my mind, other thoughts screamed over them. Thoughts I couldn’t ignore, and I knew I needed to see this through.

He was finally close enough that I could see that his gleaming eyes were green. Their soft, reflective sheen reminded me of two crystal balls. I was instantly drawn to his smile like a magnet. It wasn’t a full smile, more like a half grin emphasizing his dimples. His skin was smooth with no facial hair and that made me weak in the knees. He had full lips that made me want to kiss him, and I don’t know why. I’d never looked at another guy like this before, not even Ben. So why was I eyeing him this way, and why was I unable to avert my gaze?

Aside from his overall physical sex appeal, his simple clothing choice made him even more irresistible. He wore faded jeans, a black Foreigner concert t-shirt, and black work boots. I had to laugh a little when I saw the concert t-shirt because I was wearing one too. Mine was my dad's with U2 emblazoned across the front. I had it knotted on the side, which allowed the neck to hang off my shoulder.

Having managed his way through the crowd much better than I had, he was standing right in front of me. His face was breathtaking; he had an adorable chin, a small straight nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He was an utter vision of perfection and I couldn’t help but smile.

The bar was crowded and there was no room on either side of me. Putting both hands in his pockets, he stood where he was and smiled back at me. Then, running his tongue over his bottom lip, he asked in a low, sexy voice, “Were you staring at me?”

I pouted my lips and rolled my eyes. I was a little shocked by his candor. I took a deep breath as I straightened my shoulders and placed my hands on my hips, “No, I was just looking for my friend while I waited on my drinks. You just happened to be in my line of vision.”

He chuckled a little then said, “That look was hot.”

I huffed out a breath and tried not to laugh. Did he really just say that?

When the bartender brought my order and set it in front of me, my phone started ringing in my pocket, but I ignored it as I continued to stare at him. “Why would you think I was looking at you, anyway?”

As the person beside me settled her tab and walked away, he moved to fill the empty space and tossed his beanie next to my drink. His close proximity caused my pulse to race and my heart to pound faster. Leaning sideways, he rested his hip against the bar. With his eyes still locked on mine he answered, “Because I was staring at you, and I was hoping you were staring back.”

When I turned to speak, I instantly lost my train of thought. I looked directly into those powerful green eyes, so full of intensity, and I was lost. With the electric pull only growing stronger between us, I feared I wasn’t going to be able to get out unscathed.

He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip and his eyes moved to scan my body. The expression on his face told me he wanted to do more than just talk to me. My stomach felt a little strange because I wanted to do more as well. As his eyes continued to study me, goosebumps ran up my arms. I couldn’t remember ever getting those simply from the way someone looked at me.

A moment of comfortable silence passed before he cocked his head to the side in the most adorable way and grinned. “With all this talk about who was staring at whom I think

we forgot the basics, I’m River,” he said as he extended his hand with the most devilish grin on his face.

Feeling almost bewitched by him, I put my hand out to shake his but quickly pulled it away. Unfortunately, in doing so I bumped into the person standing next to me and accidentally spilled his beer.

He gave me a dirty look while swearing under his breath. River’s grin quickly turned into a frown, and he gently moved me away. In a clipped tone he apologized, “Sorry man, just an accident, but let me buy you another.”

The now drink-less man with a somewhat wet shirt looked at him and nodded but never smiled. River pulled out his wallet. Nodding his head at the man, he handed him a ten. “Buy two.” The man took the money and walked away, muttering something under his breath. River immediately brought his attention back to me, and I bit the corner of my lower lip and smiled at him.

There we were, standing face to face, with only a few drinks separating us. Sliding one of the beers toward him, I took a sip of my own even though the ice had melted. “Thank you, that guy sure as shit wasn’t happy with me. In fact he kind of acted like an asshole.”

Taking a sip of his drink, he started to laugh, almost spitting it out. Skimming his

finger over my bare shoulder, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re more than welcome.”

Quivering from his simple touch and intense gaze, I took a step back, fearful of where this might lead.

Moving forward, he traced my last step. He was not going to let the distance widen between us. He stared intently into my eyes and asked, “Now, where were we? Do we need to start over?” He waited for my response as he watched me swallow my drink.

I pulled my lower lip to the side with my teeth and smiled playfully. “We were introducing ourselves.”

“Okay, so let’s try again. I’m River and you are...?”

My eyes scrutinized his face in search of a non-verbal clue. I found it instantly in his grin. Poking my finger into his chest, I slowly eyed him before taunting, “I’m not sure you need to know that information right now. I’m kind of thinking you might be a stalker.”

His eyes widened as he laughed at me. “You’re not serious are you beautiful girl?”

Unable to control my own laughter, I simply said, “Maybe I am,” but my laughter subsided when I realized the sweet name he’d given me.

Leaning toward me, he was close enough that I could inhale his fresh scent. It was soapy, just out of the shower, a simply amazing smell.

“What? If you’re not going to tell me your name then I get to call you whatever I want.”

Averting my eyes from his gaze, I looked down.

After taking another sip of his beer, he set the mug down. He hooked my chin with his finger and tilted my head up toward him. His lingering touch seared my skin and left it tingling. He stared at me with his intense green eyes and chuckled a little. “Can we talk about you thinking I’m a Jack the Ripper type? I just want you to know, I’m definitely not. In fact, I think it’s safe to say you were staring at me first, but in no way do I think you’re a stalker.”

His touch made me quiver and my mouth dropped open. I was unsure of what to say.

I knew he was right. I had stared first. I was surprised that he would call me out on it.

Cocking his head to the side he said, “So we can get past this; let’s just say I was staring first. Not that it really matters.”

We were looking into each other’s eyes as the bartender presented me with my bill. When I turned to pay for my drinks, the connection was broken. Handing my money to the bartender, I thanked him and told him to keep the change. This diversion gave me some time to think about how to handle this potentially dangerous situation. I also had to consider my love for Ben.

I watched River as he ordered two more beers, and I realized that I had to figure out these strange new feelings I was experiencing. I wanted to explore them further because our initial connection from a distance had intensified; not only from his nearness, but also from his total honesty and raw charm. I pushed aside any feelings of guilt about my flirtatious behavior. I handed him one of the shots and said, “Cheers.”

People were bumping into him, into me, but neither of us seemed to care. He looked down at my shirt and back up again before lifting his shot glass to clink mine.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he toasted before drinking his shot.

I tried not to show how turned on I was that he had just quoted the lyrics from one of my favorite songs. All of his irresistible gestures throughout this encounter were competing for first place in my head, but all of them deserved it.

Setting his shot glass down, he put his hand in his pocket. “So, does this mean you forgive me?”

The sound of his voice was strong, but soft, and made him even more tempting. I found myself thinking that he was not only adorable, but he was something else entirely. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. I had a boyfriend that I loved waiting for me.

I raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Forgive you? Forgive you for what?” I was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation and honestly had no idea what the apology was for.

He shifted on his feet. “You know what? Never mind,” he muttered in my ear. His warm breath reached my neck and I wanted to feel it everywhere.

Looking me up and down, he changed the subject and asked, “What, no costume?”

Continuing with this dangerous flirtation, I glanced down my own body, motioning with my hands from head to toe. “How do you know this isn’t my costume?”

While tugging on my t-shirt and pulling me a little closer, he seductively whispered, “If that's your costume you’re definitely taking first place in the contest because it’s the sexiest one I’ve ever seen.”

We were silent for a minute; not even our heavy breathing could be heard. The noise from the bar and the crowd of the people around us had extinguished, but his words, his touch; they inflamed me, excited me, and sent fire through my veins.

“Where'd you get this anyway?” he asked, tugging at the knot on my shirt pulling me even closer.

It felt like the room was spinning and I wasn’t sure if it was him, the alcohol, or the fact that he just asked me a question I didn’t want to answer. “My dad managed The

Greek and was a collector of concert t-shirts,” I said, trying to push back the emotion welling inside me.

He seemed to understand my hesitation, maybe from my use of the word ‘was’ or maybe from my body language. He nodded, cleared his throat, and once again totally changed the subject.

“So, have you ever seen Foreigner play?” he asked, now pointing to his own shirt and grinning.

As I looked at the bold white letters across his shirt, I pushed aside all of my sadness and focused on our conversation. We were just two people who had a lot in common, talking, or at least that was what I wanted to think. When our drinks were gone, he ordered another round. As I finished the shot, I accidentally slammed the glass on the bar, causing a loud crack and the bartender glowered at me. I mouthed, “Sorry.”

River reached out and grabbed a strand of my hair that had come loose from my ponytail. He very slowly tucked it behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Circling his index finger around my ear, he lightly tugged on my lobe. He sparked a heat within my body that I didn’t know existed. He did this in one swift movement, causing my scalp to tingle while my ear lobe was on fire.

Gulping the drink I didn’t need to be drinking, I hoped to extinguish that fire. I also hoped no one saw him touch me that way. Ben would be fucking furious. He was ridiculously jealous and we had many arguments about other men, all unjustified. At least until now.

As the strobe lights started to flicker and I leaned my hip against the bar for support, he put his hand on my waist and turned me so my back was against the bar. Had he noticed I almost lost my balance because of the flashing lights and my own dizziness? Moving to stand directly in front of me, he put his hands on either side of me and pressed his palms into the bar. He was effectively enveloping me, but I didn’t feel trapped at all. I honestly didn’t know what I felt, but I knew my heart was pounding out of my chest; my stomach was doing flips, and I got light-headed as the goosebumps returned.

He braced his arms on both sides of me and I thought he was going to kiss me as he stared intently into my eyes. I closed my eyes preparing for the kiss but I felt him abruptly pull away. Immediately, I heard a high-pitched voice squeal, “River, don’t forget we’re leaving right after the show,” and before I could catch a glimpse of the girl, she bounced away.

Smirking at me he said, “My little sister has the worst timing.”

I was going to respond when I heard a strange drum roll echo through the bar. Glancing around, I tried to figure out what it was for. With an amused look on his face, he rolled his eyes before shifting them to the stage and back to mine. “That would be for me,” he laughed, leaning in so we were face to face. “They want me back on stage. I’ve gotta go unless you'd rather I stay and we finish what we started? Because that certainly would be way more fun.”

I really hadn’t heard anything he said, but everything seemed to finally make sense. He was the enamoring voice I heard when I came into the bar, and right now he was so close to me I could feel his warm breath and smell his soapy scent. He was so charming,

so captivating, and so aware of me. I was pretty sure I was drunk because I was feeling things I should not have been feeling. As I stared into his powerful green eyes, I knew I should’ve been trying to swim out of them.

Before I could say anything in response, he moved his head slightly back, lifted my hand, and slowly kissed it. Then he leaned into me and whispered right in my ear with his wet lips, “Guess not. Not yet anyway.” My hand was on fire, my ear scorching; I should have dressed up as the Wicked Witch of the West because not only was I pure evil, I was melting.

That same strange drum roll rumbled through the sound system again and he quickly dunked his head back to look at me. “I gotta jet.”

He was still holding my hand, as he looked straight into my eyes. “You'll wait for me until after the show.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. And then motioning between him and me, he added, “Because this isn’t finished.”

At that moment I realized that what had started as harmless flirting had turned into a situation that had gotten way too dangerous for me; it was bordering on trouble.

He placed his hands on the bar, surrounding me in his arms again, but not touching me, and waited for a response. Since he hadn’t really asked a question that I wanted to answer, I just smiled and said, “If you’re in the band you’d better go, you shouldn’t leave your fans waiting.”

He took that as a response, or maybe he didn’t, since he wasn’t really looking for one. Maybe he was just in a hurry. But either way, he gave me one last heart-stopping grin and then leaned in and kissed me. My body reacted strangely to his kiss. A rush of something I couldn’t identify surged through me. At first he only lightly touched my lips with his then for a few short seconds he pressed a little harder before pulling away. I didn’t kiss him back, but I was completely lost in the moment.

“I hope you’ve become a fan,” he said, winking at me before grabbing his hat. Then he turned and walked away.

I brought my fingers to the place he had just kissed and watched as his silhouette walked away; taking in the sway that had captivated me from the moment I laid eyes on him. I became vaguely aware of the music being piped through the sound system. The song Superstition was being played overhead, but I wasn’t really listening to it because my mind was on him.

I shook my head, trying to rid the thoughts that should not be in there. I knew I had to leave, or I would end up doing something that I would regret. I had to leave for two reasons. First, I loved Ben, and second, Ben would fucking kill River just for looking at me the way he did. And then there was the kiss; yes, Ben would do more than kill him.

Knowing these things, I wondered why I hadn’t walked away in the first place. For a moment there, I felt as though I believed in love at first sight, which I didn’t. And how could love at first sight even exist when you were already in love with someone else? I didn’t want to analyze the events of tonight because I was confused as hell, and the answers would not be what I wanted to hear.

I smiled about my exchange with this enamoring stranger. He definitely was not a

stalker. He was a guy that was adorably charming and utterly charismatic, a guy who had a simple ease about him that I really liked, and a guy I didn’t ever need to see again. This I knew for certain because our complete awareness of each other scared the shit out of me, and his touch did something to me. It made me afraid that the danger would win out, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had a boyfriend that I loved, and he was waiting for me at his house.

With thoughts of River swirling around in my head, I made my way through the crowd to the dance floor where I found Aerie with some kind of pink drink in her hand. “We have to leave. Now!” I shouted at her while pulling her off the dance floor.

“What? Why? Are you sick?” she asked, struggling for words.

Then she turned and pointed to the stage. “Because if you’re not, I want to see that hot guy sing first.”

I turned to see where she was pointing and sure enough it was at him, River, the guy who captivated me with his charm and attitude. It was then that I realized I’d never even told him my name.

Pulling Aerie through the crowd under protest, I heard the audience chanting River Wilde, River Wilde. I glanced up to the stage just in time to see him grab the microphone. Before the live music started we exited through the door, and Aerie started yelling obscenities at me. As we walked away I found myself thinking I had just met the most enchanting guy and knowing that I might never be the same.

 

 

 

 

March 2010…

IT’S NOT MY TIME

 

 

Looking into the future I see the plans we have And the dreams that we both share

Happiness is what we believe

But we are in a world that tries to take it away I wish it wasn’t my time.

 

I looked in the mirror, trying to decide whether or not the pearl necklace would take the edge away from my deep V-necked black cocktail dress. The bathroom counter was covered in different necklaces, our dirty clothes were in a heap on the hamper, and dirty towels were thrown all over the floor. I smiled when I glanced up and saw Ben’s reflection in the mirror. He was leaning with his shoulder on the bathroom doorframe, a wicked grin on his face, and a wild glimmer in his piercing blue eyes.

“Pearls or no pearls?” I asked as I watched him stride toward me in the mirror. I had known him since I was five years old, but for some reason the way he looked at me then left me breathless.

Ben wrapped his tan arms around my waist and started to kiss my neck. I could feel the soft, warm skin of his freshly shaven face. “Dahl, I’d prefer nothing at all to be perfectly honest,” he muttered while he began to unzip my dress.

“Hey, we’re going to be late,” I quipped. “LA is at least an hour drive.” I tried, unsuccessfully, to wiggle out of the one arm he still had around my waist as he continued to unzip my dress with the other.

Still watching Ben in the mirror, I saw him bite his lip as he let out a little groan. “Well, it’s my party, and I can be late if I want to,” he whispered in my ear then resumed kissing my neck. Ben looked incredibly hot in his black tuxedo with slicked back hair and a clean-shaven face. I felt a slight stirring throughout my body from his close proximity,

which made me decide against wriggling out of his arm. Instead, I turned around to look at him.

I was so proud of how successful Ben had become in such a short time. He landed a job at the LA Times right out of college and proved his extreme confidence and ability in only a few short years with his focus and dedication to his job. Even though the commute from Laguna was tedious at most, he didn’t mind doing it, especially since he wasn’t required to go into the office every day. My fiancé was going to be receiving California’s Journalist of the Year award at a prestigious dinner in LA for his brilliant work in underground crime investigation. I knew I wasn’t the only one full of excitement, even if I was the only one who showed it.

Ben’s lack of enthusiasm toward the honor he was receiving wasn’t like him. In fact, he hadn’t been acting like himself all week. He wasn’t acting different in a good way or a bad way—just different, and I had been trying to figure out what was driving his mood. I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or touched by his actions. They were definitely a little strange to tell the truth. He had been sweeter than he usually was; he sent me flowers, he bought me candy, he spent every night at home with me. He had even shown up at my office every day to take me to lunch.

Ben was never the type of boyfriend to dote; he wasn’t a flowers and chocolates romantic kind of guy, and I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed that. I liked my independence and so did he. He had always taken care of me and loved me in his own way, but never in all our years together had he done the types of things he’d done that week.

Once before, he came close to acting like a doting boyfriend, but technically he wasn’t my boyfriend at the time. I’d broken up with him and because of his borderline doting then, I was always wary of this behavior from him at any time.

The event leading up to our breakup and its cause will forever be ingrained in my mind. I remember clearly the day I popped into Ben’s room at his frat house. It was the end of the first semester of our senior year at USC. I stopped by to tell him I’d finally gotten the internship I really wanted at Sound Music. I was so happy that I wasn’t going to have to intern for Drake anymore, and I knew Ben would be thrilled. He wasn’t in his room when I got there, so I sat down at his desk to send his sister, Serena, a quick email to share my news with her. I knew she’d be excited for me.

I pressed the space bar on his computer and his email account was already opened, so I figured I’d just type my quick note from there. Instead of hitting compose I

st

accidentally clicked on the trash folder. I noticed the date October 31

, 2006 right away.

As my eyes scanned the screen, the words Reply to: S’belle, later tonight, green eyes, touch, copper, and your apartment were all that registered before he came over and quickly right clicked, hitting the delete button. His presence startled me as I hadn’t heard him walk into the room. I gaped at him in astonishment that he just deleted that email so quickly in front of my eyes. I hadn’t had a chance to read the whole thing, but I knew he must have been hiding something. Was he really making plans with another girl? Plans that were not in the least bit platonic?

He admitted to emailing this girl and socializing with her but assured me nothing

sexual had actually happened. In the end, he confessed that their relationship was inappropriate. He swore he would end it, and I’m sure he did; but I couldn’t trust him, so I broke up with him.

Everyday from that day forward he called me. Over the next three months, little ‘remember me’ items turned up almost daily. He was trying so hard to convince me to forgive him. He left notes on my car, flowers at my door, voice messages with profuse apologies, text messages confessing his love, he showed up anywhere he knew I would be, and he even bought me a silver-plated coffee cup with a note saying ‘To brighten up your mornings’.

It was a long, hard three-month separation. I never realized just how much I would actually miss him, but I did—a lot. So I decided to trust him and move past the dishonesty. I really did love him, and I knew he loved me. Perhaps I also felt a little guilty about my own encounter with a certain singer of a band that wasn’t exactly innocent.

So yes, the doting alarmed me, not that I didn’t appreciate his kind gestures, but it just made me think something was wrong. Was there something not right in our relationship, a relationship that already had its share of ups and downs? Maybe this behavior was just one of the ups, or maybe Ben’s sudden emergence into romance had something to do with wanting to get married since we had never talked about setting a wedding date.

The one thing I was sure about was our love and commitment to each other. We grew up together. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend since we were sixteen, and we had been engaged for two years. We may have disagreed on many things and argued more than I preferred, but we always fell back on our longevity; especially since the root of most of our disagreements stemmed from something I could not fix. Our arguments were usually the result of Ben’s jealousy or self-concern. Ben would be jealous if another man so much as looked at me, which was ironic because Ben himself was always very flirtatious. He was also self-centered. This trait was more a function of who he was; a man with drive and determined to get ahead, although sometimes I wondered at what cost.

Shaking my head, I had no idea what was going on with Ben. However, I made an effort to push aside the disconcerting thoughts and just embrace the moment.

“Today is your big day,” I said while looking into his eyes. I gave him a large happy smile full of pride for his accomplishments. I diverted my eyes from his when I said, “And your party or not, it would be rude for the main speaker to be late.” I kissed him on the lips to help soften my words. “Now zip my dress back up, and tell me what you think.”

Ben gave me his dangerous smile but didn’t move. “You can be very bitch... y, oh I mean boss... y. I think you look fucking gorgeous,” he snickered, finally turning me back around to zip my dress.

I looked at him in the mirror again as he was still grinning at me. “No, the pearls silly!

Should I wear them or not?” I asked while holding them up to my neck again.

Ben’s smile faded a little as he took the pearls from my hands. “No pearls. They remind me of your grandma. Not that I didn’t love your Grammy, but I love you in a totally different way. I don’t want Grammy images popping up in my head while I’m

fucking you.” He turned me back around and kissed me right on the chest where the pearl necklace would have sat, while he ran his hand up under my dress. I shivered from his contact, and his bright smile returned.

I laughed lightly and said, “Stop it Ben Covington! You can’t do that after talking about Grammy, it just seems wrong.” I moved aside and started to leave the bathroom to go put on my shoes. I tripped over a towel on my way out and said, “Maybe you could try cleaning up after yourself a little,” but he knew I was kidding since I was much messier than he was.

“I love you, you know,” Ben said while he followed me out of the bathroom.

As I sat on the bed, still unmade from our afternoon romp, I slipped on one of my shoes before pulling my leg up onto the bed. “I know, and I love you too.” Once again, I wondered: why the onslaught of affection?

Ben stood over me to help me fasten the ankle strap of my left shoe. I noticed his facial expression change again, taking on a more serious tone. “No Dahlia, I really, really love you. Never forget it, no matter what.”

“Dahlia? You never call me that,” I said as I wriggled my foot and ran it up his stomach trying to lighten the mood.

Ben smirked at my gesture, set my foot down, and walked over to his dresser. I was at a loss for words as he reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a Cartier box. Walking back to the bed, he handed me the box and said, “I bought this for you because it says what I never seem to be able to say to you.”

Surprised at the lavish name on the box, I looked at it for a few seconds before opening it. Inside was a stunning white gold and diamond bracelet. It had four hearts engraved around the edge. I knew it well because I had written a paper about that piece of jewelry in college for one of my style classes. The bracelet was created by Cartier in the 1970s and is meant to be a symbol of genuine loving attachment; a discreet token of passionate love. It is to be locked firmly onto the loved one’s wrist by the giver with the aid of an included golden screwdriver of which the giver remains the guardian. Looking up at him, my eyes started to fill with tears, and without words I put my hand out for him to fasten the bracelet around my wrist.

Staring at the beautiful piece of jewelry, overcome by emotion, I tried not to cry. “I love it,” I said while swallowing hard. He leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. I gazed at him and noticed his eyes were slightly weepy, and his forehead was creased.

I kept watching him as he turned around and walked toward what used to be my mother’s hope chest. It was old, and the creamy-white paint was almost completely peeled off. Ben’s strides were slow and deliberate. His display of emotion was unusual. I had never seen him that overcome, not even when he asked me to marry him. He just wasn’t very emotional; it wasn’t his nature.

Turning the key that I always left in the keyhole, he opened the lid to the chest and said, “I don’t see why you’d ever have to take off the bracelet, but just in case I’ll put this,” he held the screwdriver up in the air, “In here so you know where to find it, okay?” He winked at me while pointing to the chest. I knew he never liked how unorganized I could be, but he knew I could always find anything of importance in that chest that had

belonged to my mother.

I watched as Ben looked for a place to put the screwdriver. His search seemed to be done with care and concern. He decided on a small square located in the red-velvet covered tray that was hinged to the lid. From the bed I could see all of the material items I held true to my heart stored in that chest. I smiled when I saw all my dolls, along with yearbooks, diplomas, and various pictures. I finished putting on my other shoe, stood up, and walked behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. He grabbed my arms and squeezed back for a few seconds before placing his hands on the lid. As he closed the lid to the hope chest, I saw Malibu Ken lying on top of all the other items, and my mind wandered back to the first time we had sex.

We were out surfing at our favorite spot, miles away from people and cars. The swells were small so the surf was unburdened. It started to lightly rain, but we remained with our arms stretched in the air riding the most perfect waves. When the rain fell harder we swam to shore, boards attached to our legs. It was almost pouring as we made a run for the car. Ben carried both of our boards while I carried all the other gear. The crackle of the thunder was loud and the jolt made him fall with the two boards toppling down. I stopped to help him, throwing all the gear I was carrying to the ground. He just looked at me and laughed, “Fuck it.” Then he put both boards together in the sand to make a teepee of sorts.

We were sitting under the teepee watching the rain hit the waves like sheets of glass shattering on the ground when Ben leaned in and kissed me. We had kissed so many times before, but never like that. I pulled away at first, not sure where we were headed. I’d gone on the pill a couple months before in anticipation that Ben and I would finally have sex for the first time. And as the tide washed up onto the shore I knew the time was upon us—I knew the time was right.

Ben brought my lips back to his and thrust his tongue to meet mine. I closed my eyes, craving his touch. I could smell the salt from the ocean on his warm skin and taste it on his tongue. He pulled me as close as he could and when we stopped kissing, I opened my eyes.

We were both breathing heavily, almost panting as the drumming of the rain continued. He gazed at me with his lips slightly parted, and I pressed my fingers against his lips and he kissed them. Then in a gesture of returning his kiss, I kissed my own fingers before running them down his bare chest and across his well-defined abdominal muscles. I heard a slight intake of breath and with hooded eyes he kissed my lips again, this time a little harder. As his tongue entwined with mine, he slipped his hand inside my bikini top rubbing circles around my nipple with his thumb.

The wind picked up, blowing my hair across our connected faces. Moaning in his mouth and straddling his lap, I felt his erection as I ground my hips into his. I ran my hands through his wet hair and down his bare back, hard enough that I could feel the grit of the sand rubbing against his skin.

Kissing his way down my throat, Ben whispered, “I love you, Dahl,” before moving his hand behind my neck and tugging the string that held my bikini top in place.

My head fell back as he lightly kissed each of my now fully exposed nipples in turn. I

arched my back as his kisses turned into sucks and licks, sending a jolt of pleasure through my core and a shiver down my spine. I could feel his smile against my skin as I whimpered, “I love you too.”

Flashes of lightning lit the sky off in the distance, but the real spark was right here on the beach. As I reached down pressing my hands against the outside of Ben’s board shorts, he moved his hands to the inside of my knees and spread my legs open wider as I continued to straddle his lap.

After outlining his erection with my fingers, I hooked my hands in the elastic of his shorts wanting to do the same without the wet barrier between us. As my hands descended, Ben pulled away. “I want you, now.”

“I want you too,” I responded as I leaned back from him so I could see his face, leaving my hands where they were.

As the ominous storm assaulted the beach we continued to explore each other’s bodies. When we were both panting uncontrollably, he stood up and reached for my hand, pulling me up, out of our shelter, and into the pouring rain.

“Come on let’s go, I’ll come back and get our shit later,” he managed to say while pulling me close enough so that I could feel the rain drops from his body mix with mine. We stood there touching and kissing as he pulled me into his hardness, running his fingers inside the back of my bikini bottom.

Pulling away I looked around the deserted beach. “Let’s stay here.”

Ben didn’t need any more convincing as he pulled me back under our surfboard teepee and we had sex for the first time.

I remembered looking at him that day so long ago, with his blond hair and perpetual tan. When we stood there in the rain, about to take the next step in our relationship, I thought he looked more and more like my Malibu Ken Doll, and I wanted to be his dream Barbie. Ever since that day I called him Malibu Ken or just Ken for short. I even remembered him saying in response to my nickname for him, “Shit, Dahl, people are going to think I play with Barbies.” Then, with a wicked grin, he said, “But that’s okay as long as you’re my Barbie.” He knew I was. That night I pulled out my Malibu Ken and set him on my dresser. When he saw it, wit