John Francis

Jon’s eyes widened in surprise as he did a quick look around. He’d been so involved in his own thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Richie wasn’t in the limo.

The other men were still talking when he walked up to them, but conversation trailed off at the scowl on his face and the narrowed blue eyes that shot each man their own look.

“Where’s Richie?”

The men glanced at one another, shoulders lifting in shrugs. Everyone turned as one to look at the driveway to see if the other limo was coming.

Tico spoke first. “Dunno, man, thought he was behind us.”

Jon just stood there, his mind racing.

Where was Richie?

~~~

Richie was back in the elevator, heading down to the lobby, trying to find out where Amanda had gone. He heard laughter from the bar area behind him. He paused, convincing himself she was in there, then turned in that direction.

He found her.

Moving through the crowded room, he walked gracefully through the laughing crowd, working his way to her table, a smile on his face that slowly drifted into a frown as he saw her.

Fuck.

Did she know tears were running down her face?

“Manda?”

Nothing.

“Amanda?” He reached out to touch her arm and gave a small wince as she turned her eyes toward him.

Pain.

Jesus.

Amanda looked up at the tall man, so deep in her thoughts it took her a moment to focus on his face.

“Richie? What are you doing here?” Amanda blinked at his sudden appearance.

He sat down on the other side of the table and gave her a small smile.

“I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

Now she was the one with the small smile.

“I’ll be fine.” Her voice tightened a bit as she spoke.

Richie’s voice reached her ears as a whisper.

“You’re crying.”

Amanda’s eyes widened and she raised her hand, touching her cheeks. She felt the wetness and shook her head softly.

“It’s nothing.”

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as the waitress moved to their table. Amanda took those few moments to get a tighter hold on her emotions. It seemed that’s all she had been doing for the last week. Trying to not feel anything.

It was getting easier.

Now, she was lying.

~~~

Jon stood there, his anger growing.

He wanted to punch Richie right in the mouth.

Tell him to stop fucking with his private life.

Can’t even handle his own fucking life. Needs to stay the fuck out of mine.

Stop talking to people he was over.

Why the hell is he talking to her anyway? He needs to tell her to get lost.

He needs to … tell me where she is.

What the fuck?

He did not want to see Amanda.

That voice in his head needed to shut up.

Reluctantly, his mind churning, he followed the other men into the bar.

Three quickly downed drinks later, Jon pulled out his cell as he walked away from the table.

Dave, Hugh and Tico exchanged looks and a few rolled eyes.

Hugh looked at Tico.

“You think he’ll be back?”

Tico grinned as he lit another cigarette.

“Not a fucking chance.”

~~~

Jon’s strides ate up the floor as he walked to the exit doors, the cell to his ear.

“Where did you take him?”

The limo driver answered and Jon punched the button to end the call, dialing a cab company in one practiced motion and barking out his need for a pick up.

He paced, waiting for a cab, anger growing with each stride.

Fucking Richie. This was going to end tonight. Right the fuck now.

He loved Richie like a brother, but he’d made up his mind.

If Richie had taken off, without saying anything, he had gone to see Amanda. Jon just knew it. He could feel it.

Richie was with Amanda.

He might be looking at her right now. Sitting next to her, close enough to smell her perfume. Feel her hair brush his arm as she turned. See her smile. How her eyes would light up when she saw…

How her eyes would light up when she saw me.

He shook his head, crushing his hand into his jacket pocket to grab his cigarettes. He lit one with movements harsh with anger, taking several quick draws until he began pacing once again.

Amanda was not the problem. She was not. That was done. He was over her. He didn’t want to see her. Wouldn’t even be thinking about her if she hadn’t shown up tonight. If Richie hadn’t brought her back stage.

Richie was the problem.

Not Amanda.

~~~

“What are you going to do?” Richie toyed with his drink as he watched her, saw her open her mouth to speak, then close it, shaking her head.

“I’m gonna go away for a while, Richie.”

He squinted at her, not sure if it was surprise he was feeling at her answer.

Hell, I’d wanna get the fuck outta Dodge too.

“Where?”

Amanda’s eyes met his. “I don’t know yet. Does it matter?”

He wanted to answer her. To tell her it did matter, that she shouldn’t give up.

That it would all work out.

But he couldn’t. And he knew she understood that when her slight smile quivered and she grabbed her hat and bag, standing at the side of the table.

Richie stood, following her through the bar into the lobby. She waited for him and he slipped an arm around her waist as they walked to the elevator.

Amanda briefly leaned her head against Richie’s shoulder as they waited for the elevator doors to open and felt him tilt his head to lay the gentlest of kisses against her hair.

Jon watched all this from a chair in the lobby. His eyes blazed and he was on his feet as the doors opened.

Amanda and Richie entered the elevator, then froze as Jon seemed to just appear outside the slowly closing doors.

Amanda took a step forward, her eyes wide, her arm rising to touch without her conscious thought.

“Jon … please …” She stopped as he looked at her, his eyes burning into hers.

Richie took a small step back from her side as she and Jon just stood there, the door holding at Jon’s body in the way.

Jon stepped into the elevator and Richie’s hand shot out, catching the door. He stepped out and watched the door closing on the two inside.

She stood silently in the elevator, her arm burning where Jon’s hand had reached out and made contact with her skin. His eyes blazed into hers and they both stood there, breathing the other in.

The door pinged open and a group of men turned to enter.

Jon jammed the button as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Amanda‘s face. “Elevator’s full.”

One man opened his mouth to protest, then stopped, leaving the door to close on the two inside.

“What room are you in?”

She blinked at his voice, then had to search inside her bag for her room key. She stumbled a little as she did this and he took the bag from her to get the key. He pressed the button for the 17th floor and they started the ascent.

They walked down the hallway to her room, her balance less than perfect and Jon’s arm moved unbidden around her waist. He opened the door and she went inside. He stood at the doorway for a moment, long enough for her to turn and look at him, then he went in, closing the door.

Amanda slipped off her heels and Jon dropped her bag on the dresser. Standing there, looking at her, he was flooded with memories of her in his arms, the feel of her skin on his, the way it felt to be inside her.

He fought every memory. He thought of how she had lied to him, disappeared, threw everything he had offered her back in his face.

He knew he had to turn and walk out the door, walk away from her as she had walked away from him.

He moved to do just that and had no idea how he ended up moving towards her instead. She slid into his arms like the missing half of his soul.

His hands rose to push her away and suddenly there were shreds of clothes in them.

He grabbed her hair to keep her lips from his and those same lips were now joined with his, her breath softly mingling with his own.

He dropped his hands to her hips to stop grinding against her and instead met naked flesh.

She stood there, hardly daring to breath, her eyes liquid with desire, and he lost the fight.

A near-angry shove had her on the bed and in seconds he was inside her, her legs quivering with her need, her hands moving everywhere she could reach. He grasped her hands with one of his, forcing them over her head, using his other hand to raise her hips as he bent over her, burying himself inside her warmth.

He managed to stay just this side of too forceful as he reined in his anger and hurt, lost in the sensation of her body, the uniqueness of her smell, the fullness of her response.

She responded to this man, this love, with a wildness she had almost forgotten she possessed. He was almost unprepared for her climax, feeling her shake suddenly with the force and he opened his eyes to take in every move she made. The thundering in his veins announced his own peak as he curled over her, driving in deeper with the last few strokes.

One was afraid to speak, the other unable. Their gasping breaths told their own tale. As breathing slowed, passion renewed, but no words were spoken.

One physically demanded.

One more time, just once more.

The other silently pleaded.

Oh god, please, once more.

An exhausted sleep eventually found them.

~~~

Amanda woke the next morning, a shaft of muted sunlight in her room announcing the time was still early, not yet quite full dawn.

For the first time in more days than she could count, the heaviness that seemed to live in her heart was gone and she knew the reason.

She turned to Jon, a smile already beginning to curve her lips.

The bed was empty.

The bathroom was empty.

The room was empty.

Except for a single piece of paper.

A signature.

His autograph.