“Need me to come?” He places his hand on the table, ready to leave with us.
“Nah, let me see what he wants to do. You might need to take her home if I need to stay with him.”
“You ready to go, baby?” he asks her.
She defers to him. “If you are.”
“She’s ready,” I answer for her.
“I’ll wait here for you guys to get back,” Oz says before I help her stand, then give her the crutches.
“Yo, that’s where the crutches came from. I was so confused, man, since you didn’t have them at practice.” One of the guys shakes his head.
“Fucking idiot with a camera,” I hear Oswald say as we walk away.
“You don’t have to make him leave for me,” Waylynn says as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Yes I do. You’re tired.” That’s more important. I don’t say that, though, because she would try to argue.
The line for the women’s restroom is long, like always. I don’t know what the fuck they do in there that takes so long at places like this. I glance at Waylynn, who’s leaning on her crutches, then the lack of a line for the men’s room and make a decision. “Come on.” I urge her forward with my body, angling us toward the door.
I love that she comes without question and even enters the bathroom once I poke my head inside then open the door for her.
“The women’s has a better counter,” some idiot behind us yells. I ignore him. I would take Waylynn to the car before I fucked her in a scummy place like this.
The doors to the two stalls are closed, but there are only feet in one, so I push the other one open as she shields her eyes from the guy zipping up at the urinal with her hand. “I’ll stand in front of the door,” I promise, and she maneuvers herself inside the stall with the crutches.
“Maybe I’ll hold it,” she mutters.
“You’re good, sweetness.”
“Why ain’t you going in there with her? I can help her if she needs it,” some dude who should have stopped drinking hours ago pipes up.
“Walk away,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eye so he can see how serious I am.
“Memphis?” Her voice is small.
“Right here.”
“Just tryin’ to help the lady out,” he defends and backs away. At least he’s not drunk and dumb.
When I hear the toilet flush, I move to the side so she can get out. She makes her way over to the sink, squeezing her crutches to her side with her arms, and it smashes her tits together in the process.
Before I can pull the door open, one of the guys from the table enters, and he does a double take when he sees us. Waylynn’s face blazes crimson, but none of us speak.
“Oh gosh, I don’t want to do that again,” she confesses the second we’re back in the hall.
“It was better than waiting. You wouldn’t have even gotten into the bathroom yet.” I point at the line that seems to have gotten longer since we entered the men’s room.
She winces. “Maybe.”
I chuckle as I lead her toward the backdoor Bates used. Just to make sure I’m not going to cause an issue, I knock on it hard enough to be heard over the house music. When no one answers, I push it open, seeing a grimy hall. “Want to sneak backstage?” I taunt.
“Are we going to get in trouble?” she whispers with an air of caution and maybe a little interest.
“I’ll protect you.” I gesture for her to go past me.
“You shouldn’t be back here,” Bates snaps gruffly, hauling his instrument through a door down the hall. I know he’s not talking to us, because he’s looking into the room he’s leaving.
