Bragging Rights

Friday morning. I put the Netflix movies on the counter and did a quick clean up downstairs. Then I left for work.

The concert was tonight, so things were hectic. Gaffers and PAs ran wildly to and fro, carrying water bottles, lights, rigging; designers walked briskly with clothes in their hands. I ran into Mickey and Jesse in the halls, as they raced to and from different rooms, making sure they were set.

To play it cool, I decided to skip out on seeing Adam this morning, so I went straight to the greenroom. More paperwork. My walkie buzzed with static. “Peyton, do you have a twenty on Levine?” It was the voice of a wrangler.

I pressed the speak button in and said, “Negative. Give me two minutes.”

“He’s needed on stage.”

“Copy.” I responded. I stood and made my way to Adam’s dressing room.

“Come in!” came Adam’s voice when I knocked. I entered, and he sat on the couch, playing a game on his phone.

I jerked my thumb toward the stage. “You’re needed.”

“Damn.” He stood, pocketed his phone. He jogged out, flashing me a cute grin.

I straightened Adam’s dressing room up quickly, before heading back to the greenroom.

Around two o’clock, a crowd began forming outside the venue. The show didn’t start until five. I silently thanked God that I wasn’t a diehard Maroon 5 fan.

The doors opened at 4:00, and soon, the concert venue was buzzing and humming with excited fans. It was 4:20 when I got a buzz from the wrangler, asking for Adam to go backstage for backstage pass holders. I went to his dressing room to fetch him.

“Hey.” He said, grinning, as he looked up from a notebook.

“Fans with backstage passes are going crazy.” I said. “You gotta go say hi, I guess.”

Adam smiled. He stood, and we walked together down the halls. “Do you enjoy this part of the show?” I asked him, curious as to what he thought about the swooning fans.

“To maintain my fan-loving appearance, yes. It’s the best part of the job.” He laughed. “But being honest, no. It’s sucks. You meet fan after fan, and almost all of them tell you how much they love you, your music, your band, yadda yadda. Then there’s the women and teenage girls that cry whenever you hug them, that tell you they want to marry you, that they think you’d be perfect together, have a baby with you. I mean, come on. They don’t know shit about me.” His eyes darted about, and his pre-show sweat began glistening on his forehead. His voice was agitated.

I listened quietly. He looked down and laughed. “Sorry. You didn’t ask for that.”

“No, really, it’s –”

Adam stopped. “Okay? Fine? Peyton…” his agitated voice softened. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. I want to hear what you think.” He gave me a sweet smile.

I nodded, about ready to speak, when a wrangler jogged up and escorted Adam over to where about thirty people, mostly women and girls stood, eagerly waiting to hug and touch the front man for Maroon 5.

The show went surprisingly quickly. I waited off the wings of the stage, in case Adam needed an extra water bottle, towel, whatever.

When the show was over, the lights went out, and Maroon 5 filed their way toward my wing of the stage. The crowd was going berserk, screaming for an encore. I handed a quiet and sweaty Adam a fresh water bottle, and he drained the entire thing. The band prepared for an encore performance, and soon went back out on stage, much to the delight of the audience.

They sang Moves Like Jagger again. Crowd favorite.

Finally, the band exited the stage for the last time. As soon as they were off, Adam jogged over to me, grabbed my hand, grabbed a small duffle bag that sat behind a spare light, and yanked me out of the wing into the hall. “Adam, wha-”

“Shut up.” He said softly. He led me down the hall and out the back door. A limo was waiting there. The driver got out quickly and opened the door. Adam dove in, and pulled me in with him.

The door shut, and the driver took off.

I looked at Adam, who was smiling. His white shirt was soaked with sweat, and soon the limo began to stink like a sweaty man. “Surprise.” He grinned at me.

“Why did you do this?” I asked through a smile. This was unbelievable.

“For our movie night. Plus, I didn’t feel like dealing with after show shit. I told the guys, and they’re cool with me skipping out. I have someone bringing your car back to your place.”

The ride to my apartment was brief. Adam asked how the concert sounded on the way there, and I told him great. He questioned me, prying for what I really thought. “Okay!” I giggled. “So you were a little pitchy on Moves Like Jagger, but other than that –”

“Dammit, really? Which time?” He sunk into the seat.

“Uh…both times, but trust me –”

“Both times? Shit.” It was quiet for a moment. He seemed genuinely disappointed in himself. Then he looked at me, surprised. “Both times?!” He seemed incredulous that he could sound pitchy. Ever.

I laughed. “Yeah. But trust me, Adam, it was a great concert.” I gave him a reassuring smile.

The limo stopped, and the driver opened my door. I got out, and Adam followed. I went up the short sidewalk to my house, with Adam in tow. I unlocked the door, and invited him inside.

It was dark, so I turned the kitchen light on. “Okay. Real Steel or Deception?” I asked, pointing to the two Netflix envelopes on the counter.

He shrugged. “I’ve never seen Real Steel. Any sex in it?”

“No.”

“Then we’re watching Deception.”

I laughed. Typical guy. “I’ll make some popcorn. There’s a shower upstairs. Towels are in the closet in the hall.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you asking me to get naked the very first time I’m at your place? Isn’t that a bit forward, Miss Anderson?”

He was joking. “I just don’t want to smell your sweaty self for two hours.” I laughed.
He laughed too, and slung the duffle bag he had grabbed from the concert over his shoulder, then went upstairs.

I had just put the bag of popcorn into the microwave, when I heard the shower turn on. I couldn’t help but smile. Adam Levine, the man who millions of women would kill for, was not only in my apartment, but was also showering upstairs. Naked. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts I was having. I did not succeed.

A few minutes later, the popcorn was in a basket, and I was putting Deception into the DVD player. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and I turned.

It was Adam, wearing sweatpants. He was pulling a plain black shirt on over his head. He set his duffle bag at the bottom of the stairs. “I used your shampoo. Hope you don’t mind.” Adam smiled at me.

“Not at all. But now you’ll smell like coconut and melon.” I said with a chuckle.

“Hey, better than sweat, right?” Adam held his hands out in a shrug.

“Definitely. Ready?” I asked, plopping down onto the couch, popcorn basket in hand. I turned the TV on.

“Yup.” He moved around the couch and sat down next to me, grabbing a fistful of popcorn. He pulled an ottoman over, resting his feet on it, and he leaned slightly into the armrest. Then he grabbed the popcorn basket from me, and held it away from me. “You don’t look comfortable.”

I had been really nervous about this part, sitting together, I mean. How should I sit? Should I sit upright, away from him? Lean into him? Would that be too…awkward? I’ve only known this guy for two days.

It was true. I wasn’t comfortable. I was sitting with one leg tucked under myself, sort of waiting to lean on something. So, I did the only reasonable thing: I moved to the other end of the couch and leaned against the armrest there.

I saw a flicker of disappointment in Adam’s eyes. But he covered it well with a grin as he took another handful of popcorn.

The movie started. I’d only ever seen Deception once before. Hugh Jackman’s character is involved with some sort of secret sex club, and he drags his friend, played by the ever-attractive Ewan McGregor, into the drama. There’s a lot of sex scenes.

During the “love scenes,” I felt a bit awkward. I’d never really watched a romance movie such as this with a guy. I reached over to where Adam had set the popcorn beside him, and grabbed a handful.

I glanced at Adam. He had sunk into the couch a little more. He looked incredibly comfortable. And…it looked like he was trying to cover up how much he was enjoying these intimate scenes! I saw his eyes close briefly. Is he…fantasizing?!

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I reached over to grab another fistful of popcorn, when suddenly, he whipped the basket away from me, and held it on the other side of him. “You’ll have to come get it.” He winked at me.

It was dark. Before the movie started, I’d turned out the lights. I hadn’t really thought much of it then, but now, it definitely felt romantic. I rolled my eyes and leaned over him to grab the popcorn. As I did, I looked down at him.

He stared back up at me with those hazel eyes. I paused my reach, looking at him.

Then, Adam Levine did the unthinkable. He leaned up and kissed me.

It was a soft kiss. Very gentle and small. But he didn’t stop. He continued to kiss my lips, and I, of course, went along with him. Since I was leaning over him, it was easy for me to place my hands on him. One hand went to his shoulder, the other to his chest. When I touched his chest, he kissed me deeper. He grazed his tongue on my lower lip, asking permission to slide in.

I did the same to him, and he wasted no time in pushing his tongue into my mouth. It was wet. Obviously. I felt my body begin to ache. I kissed him more urgently. The popcorn basket fell from his hand and hit the ground, spilling everywhere. We both smiled into our kiss.

His free hands now went to my hips, and he began running his hand up my back, and down my legs. Our breathing became rapid. His hands slid underneath my shirt, touching the bare skin on my back. I let out a small sigh into his mouth. Never before had I wanted to be touched by anyone so badly.

Suddenly, I became aware of the background noise the movie was giving us. It was the unmistakable grunts and moans of a love scene. Adam heard too, because he touched me more urgently. He pushed out of his reclined position, leaned into me, and wrapped an arm around me. Then he gently leaned into me until I lay down on the couch. He was now over me.

I felt his chest and back with my hands; he was so wiry and fit. Adam gently nibbled on my lower lip, and I moaned lightly into his mouth.

Suddenly, I realized what I was doing. Kissing Adam Levine. Should this be happening? I pulled away from our kiss, and sat up gently. He didn’t seem to mind too much. He leaned back, until he was sitting. His chest fell up and down, as did mine. “Wow.” Adam said quietly.

I nodded my head, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Wow.

He looked at me, his eyes smoldering. “You’re really beautiful, Peyton.” I smiled shyly, then looked down at the ground. He gently reached over and held my chin, turning me to look at him. “Really, you are. You’re amazing.”

He fell back into his comfy position, pulling me with him. I leaned against his side. We finished watching the movie, and not another move was made from either of us. We simply enjoyed our kiss, and now were enjoying being with a really special person, watching a movie.