But then again... don’t we all sometimes?
Chapter Eight:
Comatose
Bash
She’s already dressed and I barely have my boxers back into place. I can’t tell if she’s being polite or if she got what she wanted from me, but I fear it’s the latter. It always is. “Are you hungry?”
”Uh... Yeah,” she says nervously. “I’m always hungry.”
Is she still being polite? I don’t think I care. I’m going to be selfish about it either way. “Me too, but after I come I always want to pig out. The kitchen here is always stocked up, too. Buffetstyle.”
I grab my phone, pull on some sweatpants, and lead the way back downstairs without a shirt or shoes on, my gaze dropping to the hickeys I left on her neck once we fill up a plate with junk and sit across from each other. “You think your friend went to Paris tonight?”
“Oh yeah,” she laughs, loosening up a little. “She preferred Levi to Jonah so I’m positive she took him up on the offer. And they’ll have a good time, she’s fun.”
“Yeah?” It’d be great if they got Sid to join, but I have a feeling he’d rather go celibate than watch Levi fuck a woman. “Is that something you’ve ever done? I’m the last person that will judge you, I’m just curious to know more about you... I guess I could ask what you do for a living instead though.”
What the hell am I even saying?
I stuff some food into my mouth to shut myself up for a few seconds, but something about her body language makes me curious. She’s trying to decide whether to lie to me or not.
“I haven’t,” she starts, and that sounds truthful enough. “And I’m sort of an author? I’ve worked on books anddocumentaries, things like that. Boring to a rockstar, I’m sure.”
“I don’t think that’s boring at all. Art is never boring to me. Do you enjoy it at least?”
She grins, adorable and sideways. “Is this on the record or off?”
I want to see more of it. “It’s always off the record with me. It’s hard enough to get privacy these days, so I’ll keep your secrets, beautiful.”
“Then no, I don’t enjoy it. But I’m apparently pretty good at it. So good that I was able to follow my favorite band across the country.”
I thought her eyes were blue, but for some reason they look grey in the dim lights. They’re stunning. “I bet you are. So now that you’re successful and you got to live the concert lover’s dream, what now? What do you want to do?”
She shrugs a little. “My life has never been my own, so I never gave it much thought. I didn’t think I’d make it this far, to be honest. What about you? Do you ever regret the fame?”
That sounds... sad. It makes sense that I would be a magnet to sad souls, but Ihave to remember I can’t save them all. I couldn’t even save my ghost.
“Yeah,” I admit. “Not always, but sometimes I wonder how my life would have looked if I stuck to lyricism and never showed my face. There’s no reality where I don’t write music, but if I had never learned to scream, I’d probably be able to go to Taco Bell after a good orgasm without giving my handler a heart attack.”
Giggling, she leans a little closer. “What’s his story? He’s awfully young to be a handler, isn’t he?”
“He’s one of my best friends. He was in a band back when I first started, and he hated it. He didn’t want to leave the industry, but he didn’t want to be in a band anymore so I told him to come work with me. He might not look like it, but hand him a violin and he’ll make you cry.”
Her eyes widen a little. “That’s awesome. Not the crying part, but the rest of it. I’m glad he found a way to stick around.”
“Mmhm.” I find myself staring at her and saying something that should have stayed an inside thought. “I bet you’re a real pretty crier.”
Her eyes drop to my lips. “I’ve never asked, so maybe I am.”
“Maybe one day I’ll see.”
I’ll make her come until she cries, and to show her I mean sexually, I reach under the table and squeeze her thigh.
“One day, huh? Sounds like you’re not done with me.”
“Does this feel done with you?”
