Page 137 of Rock Me

Brad sighs, "I'd really like a blow job right now. I'm so nervous."

"Well, don't look at me, I just got told to put my pants back on."

"You don't need pants to give blow jobs!”

"Dude, I wouldn't know. I've been on the strictly receiving blow jobs only diet for my life." Marius grins at our viola player.

I sink down onto the end of the long couch, trying to breathe.

Sebastian cracks open a beer and hands it to me. I reach out and take a long drink, then hold it in my hands, picking at the label.

His right eyebrow cocks, but he doesn’t say anything. I guess he sees my hand shaking as it grips the bottle neck.

It’s kind of hard to miss.

“I’m okay,” I say, answering the question in his eyes. But the truth is, I’ve been asking myself the same question all day.

I check my watch. Five minutes to curtain’s up. For our first concert since the accident.

Since I collided with a car.

Well, it collided with me.

And then I collided with the ground.

Hard.

Eight months.

It’s been a long, painful, soul destroying, heart wrenching eight months. And truthfully, only a very small part of it was because of the accident and my injuries. The rest has been trying to put my life back together since her.

Noémie.

It’s been over three months since I saw her that day in front of her house.

And I’ve called her every day since.