“That’s most ofa motorcycle,” Train said.
“Sorry, love.It’s mine,” Puddin’ said. “Train here is helpin’ me get her road worthy again.”
“I’m aware ofall that, Puddin’, I okayed the detour to your ex-wife’s,” I reminded him.“What I want to know is why is it in my greenroom?”
“We couldn’tfind another quiet place to work. We thought you’d be out there a littlelonger,” Train said, pointing his wrench at the door.
“I’m on break. Icame in here to pee,” I said, reminding my bladder of its current state. “Oh,my god. I have to pee.” I flew into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
By the time Igot out Puddin’ and Train had gathered up their tools and were wheeling thebike out the back door.
“No, no, no. Youdon’t have to go. I was just surprised to see you. To seeit, I mean.The motorcycle. That’s all,” I said, nervously stumbling over my words.
Puddin’ lookedat me and then at Train.
“Oh, I see. Sayno more,” he said, grinning.
“It’s not likethat, Puddin’,” I said.
“A nod’s as goodas a wink, love,” he replied with a tip of his imaginary cap. “I’ll just leaveyou two alone for a moment, shall I?” he said and walked out the door.
“Great, nowPuddin’ thinks you and I are fucking,” I said.
“Wearefucking,” Train said.
“I know, buthe’s not supposed to know.”
“So, what if heknows? Who cares?”
“In myexperience, once one person knows something about my private life, it’s only amatter of time before everyone knows.”
“Would it be sobad if everyone knew?”
“Well, itwouldn’t just be bad for me, it would be bad for you. Trust me, you don’t wantto be in the crosshairs of the media. They are brutal. It would simply bebetter for the both of us if we kept this thing between us under wraps fornow.”
“Sure. Whateveryou say,” Train said.
“Please, don’tbe upset.”
“I’m not upset.But I don’t plan on sneaking around forever. I live my life exactly the way Iwant to, and if anyone doesn’t like it, they can kiss my ass.”
I sighed. “I’msorry, Court. Seriously. I just don’t want you to feel sideswiped by my life.”
He cupped mychin. “I’ve got a handle on you and your life, Wart. It’s you that’s in aconstant state of worry.”
I blinked up athim. “So you haven’t been scared off yet?”
He chuckled.“Not even a little bit.”
“Well, can Ikeep you to myself a little while longer?” I asked, leaning against him. “Atleasttryto keep the media at bay until the end of the tour, maybe?”
“Yeah, baby, wecan.” He wrapped his arms around me. “How you holdin’ up?”
“I’m good.” Ismiled up at him, flattening my palms against his chest. “The fans are amazing.I just kind of need a hand transplant… or maybe a little massage?”
“My hands aredirty,” he replied.
I raised aneyebrow. “Then I’ll just have to get dirty with you.”
