“Is it okay if I answer?” I ask when he finally releases me to head for the bedroom door.
“It’s probably the only way to get him to stop calling.” He sulks.
“Hello, we’re on the way,” I tell Oswald as I bound down the stairs after Memphis.
“You sound out of breath, Wavy. What have ya been doin’, baby?”
“Homework,” I say too fast.
“Oh yeah, did you have a study partner?” His voice is teasing.
“Um…”
“What subject were you working on?”
“Chemistry.”
Oswald bursts out laughing at my response. “Did it have anything to do with attraction?”
“Tell him we’ll be there in a minute,” Memphis grumbles.
“I heard him. Do me a favor and ask him if he’ll be playing the blues all night.” Oswald snickers.
“Memphis.” He snaps his head over to look at me, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve said his name other than on the phone and when he was sleeping. “Um… He wants to know if you’ll be playing the blues.”
“Hang up on him.” Memphis reaches for my phone, but I hear Oswald chortling before he snatches it away.
“Do you play too? Why was that funny?”
“I’m going to smack him,” Memphis mumbles under his breath. “No, I do notplay, and he’s the only one who thinks it’s funny. Why don’t you ask him what he meant? We’ll be there in a minute.”
Oswald is freshly showered when he hops into the truck. The scent of his soap is strong in the small cab. “Ask him,” Memphis urges.
“Why was Memphis playing the blues funny?”
Oswald’s grin slips, and he darts his eyes over to his brother like he betrayed him.
“Yeah, why don’t you explain what you meant by that?” Memphis turns out of the lot.
“Wait, really?” he asks me with a frown of confusion.
“Never mind.” I decide I really don’t need to know.
“You sure you don’t want him to explain it?” Memphis prods but looks past me to his brother.
“Yeah, I think I’m less embarrassed not knowing than I would be if you told me,” I admit.
“Clever girl,” Memphis praises, and I don’t feel so bad for not getting the joke.
CONTROL
Oswald
Memphis and Waylynnwalk right past the doorman with a small head nod, while I get carded and a black X drawn on the back of my hand. My eyes are on her ass in the tight knee-length skirt as my brother opens the door for her.
When she walked out of the room, I about swallowed my tongue. Memphis must have run his hand over his mouth and chin three times before he could muster up a response. Knowing him, he probably wanted to tell her to go change, but he just told her she looked beautiful and I’m glad. If she changed, it would have been a fucking disservice to her and everyone else who laid eyes on her. She looks amazing.
“No fighting in the club,” the doorman tells me after watching my gaze.
