GRIP by Kennedy Ryan

Author:Kennedy Ryan [Ryan, Kennedy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Flow & Grip
Publisher: Kennedy Ryan
Published: 2017-03-01T18:30:00+00:00

Grip

POETRY HAS LONG been a habit and a comfort for me. Ever since I was a kid, I would recite my favorite poems when I was afraid, nervous, excited.

Sad.

The words pull me into a rhythm. Something set and predictable, yet brimming with the potential to break wild and free.

In my favorite poem “Poetry” Neruda said he wheeled with the stars and that his heart broke loose on the wind. It seems particularly appropriate tonight because I do feel as if, with my debut album sitting in the number one spot, I’m tumbling through some galaxy I never thought to explore. A dark sky pelted with stars, with promises masquerading as constellations.

I quoted that poem to Bristol at the top of the Ferris wheel all those years ago when we got stuck. She was frightened, but our kiss chased her fears away. She flipped my heart upside down, upending everything I thought I wanted in a girl. That Ferris wheel was maybe a hundred feet off the ground, but with Bristol’s lips so soft, first hesitant then urgent, her fingers twisted around mine like she was just as desperate to hold onto me as I was to hold onto her—I was on top of the world. I didn’t have two pennies to rub together or a pot to piss in, but I was happy.

So fucking happy.

And tonight, I am at the top of the world, more successful than that pauper on the Ferris wheel could have imagined. I can see Bristol on the other side of the club where we’re holding my release celebration, but she may as well be in another hemisphere there’s so much distance between us. I’m a fool because given the choice, I’d take the Ferris wheel with her any day over tonight. That kiss, not this celebration, feels like the best night of my life.

“You do know you have the number one album in the country, right?” Qwest walks toward the edge of the stage where I’m seated. We just finished sound check for tonight’s performance. “You got nothing to look sad about, baby.”

“I’m not sad.” I curve my lips into something close to a smile to prove it. “Just taking a quick breather. It’s a lot to take in.”

“How about you take me in.” She stands between my legs hanging over the lip of the stage. One hand touches my chest through my shirt and moves down while her lips wander over my jaw and down my neck. Her hand searches between my legs. I’m limp as a noodle. It’s embarrassing to have a woman hot enough to melt butter practically molesting you, and your dick doesn’t care.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Bristol’s voice snaps my head up, our eyes catching in the dim light of the club over Qwest’s shoulder. She’s scraped her hair back tonight so she’s all high cheekbones and matte red lips. I permit myself a glance over the naked shoulders in her strapless black pantsuit. The tight silk coaxes her breasts higher until they spill a little over the cups.

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