And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 47: Let's Talk About The Birds And The Bees

Hi all! Really excited about what's happening next :-) I finally planned the trajectory of the story but I'd welcome all criticism/comments 💓💓 let me know what you think of the story!

Paul had found a new bird. I was thrilled, for two reasons. One, this would dispel awkwardness between me and Paul. Two, she happened to be Dot Rhone, who I knew occurred in Beatles history. This made me feel a little less guilty about possibly disrupting history. If she existed as Paul's girlfriend, that must mean things could still go on the way they did, right? The Beatles could still be exactly the same, right?

    I rolled over onto John, who was sleeping on his side, turned towards me. His mouth was slightly open. I kissed his nose and when he didn't do anything I flopped on my back and looked at the ceiling. Mimi was out over Friday night and John and I had taken advantage of it, talking until we both had fallen asleep. A mere eight hours ago John had reached out for me, running his hands through my smooth hair, down my body—

    "Cora—" he groaned.

    "John, stop, John," I said, slightly panicked as his hands started slipping past my waistline. "I mean it—"

    "What you do to me—"

    I made an ugly face at him and he stopped; I took the opportunity to move to the side, stepping off the bed. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking at sorry.

    "I don't understand, back at Mimi's, that night..." a bitter tone to his voice.

    "That was different," I said, unable to elaborate more than that. That night was something out of one of the darker corners of my mind. Although it was nice, and it was definitely something I wanted, I still was sure it was not somewhere I wanted to go. "How was it different?" he asked, a hint of a whine to his voice.

    "John, couldn't you feel it?" I felt a desperation, a frustration in my voice.

    "Mm." A hiss, letting pent up air be released through his teeth. He abruptly got up to go to the bathroom down the hall, and I heard him distinctly complain, muttering, "You can't start something and not finish it."

    I had gotten under the covers and pulled them close to me, swaddled in material that smelled like him, my thoughts in a whirl. He soon came padding back to bed and pulled back the sheets. I had chosen to don a pair of his pajama bottoms and his smallest shirt, which made me look like a mound of jell-o. Pretty sexy. He climbed in next to me and I whispered, "Sorry," unsure of what he would do, but he kissed my forehead and dropped off to sleep. I was left looking at his outline and hoping for something, but I wasn't sure quite what.

    John woke up. "Morning," he said gruffly, and I repeated it, smiling at him.

    "What are you thinking about?"

    "Dot," I told him.

    "Dot Rhone? Yeah, Macca's found a new bird." John yawned and stretched his arms behind him, putting them behind his head, revealing a little underarm hair. "How'd they meet again?"

    "Why, he came in to her room while she was sleeping, ya know. That's the only surefire way to get yer bird."

    "Huh, and all this time I thought he met her at the Casbah club." We both got up and got dressed, with some resistance from John who would have stayed in bed all day if he could. He loved to sleep. I pulled his shirt off and stuck his arms through a t-shirt until he got tired of it and started dressing himself.

    "Brekkie?"

    "Brekkie. Waffles, milkshake." He snapped his teeth playfully at me and I shrieked in delight.