Page 44 of Hey Girl
After the performance, I pounced on the drummer, and engaged in more kisses than I’ve experienced in my entire relationship with him - or my whole existence, for that matter. I wanted nothing more than to make him race us back to his place and thrust my V-card at him. Seriously, if he tried to refuse it, I’d jam it down his pants and cop a feel while my hand was in there.
But alas, apparently these appearances come with some kind of afterparty.
“You don’t have to come,” Chris told me attentively.
Oh yes… yes I do. Oh, wait, he means to the party.
But I don’t want to go home and it feels good to not want that for once. I want to stay with him, and the idea of braving a room packed with crazy party people is barely a blip on my radar. With Enrique’s clever hairstyle draping half of my face and giving me a semblance of security, I cling to Chris’s arm siphoning all the confidence, strength, and big dick energy I can get from the guy, because Lord knows, he’s got plenty to spare.
Although after a few minutes ride in the back of a big black honkin’ SUV, that might be up for debate as some kind of energy swap seems to have taken place.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Chris leans in, his voice low and tender. “It can be kind of crazy, and definitely packed with people. We could take you home, I could come and put in a quick appearance and then come back to you.”
“Say what the fuck, now?” Matt’s voice pipes up from behind us. I peek over the seat to see him, his hand clasping Melanie’s as he looks at the back of Chris’s head as if a portal to the great unknown just opened there. “Rebecca, what on earth have you done to this man-child, and how in God’s name can I repay you?” He asks, as Melanie shushes him.
Chris’s head whips around and he barks at Matt like a Rottweiler. “She hasn’t done anything to me, you fucknugget! I’m in love!”
Matt’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks between us, amused. I, on the other hand feel like I’ve been dropped in the middle of some epic love novel. My—my heart and my stomach are rapidly swapping places with each other.
I’m exhilarated, but I’m freaked out. I’m happy. But I’m freaked out.
Chris, oblivious to the Defcon 1 happening inside my chest, presses on as he leans over the back of the seat, thrusting a finger at Matt. “You want to sit there and tell me that when you fell in love with your bandmate’s sister, you didn’t act a little differently? Huh?”
Matt’s face is waging a war between cool indifference and sheepish astonishment. His eyes widen, and Melanie’s narrow in thought as she looks to him. “Should we go back to your book and revisit what you were like?” Chris has that crazy look in his eye and a wicked grin as if he’s daring him to argue further when Matt clears his throat and swings his gaze over Chris’s shoulder.
“Oh look we’re here.”
My face turns to look out the window and a very unladylike gasp lodges in my throat and comes out like a croak when I see an entryway roped off with an ass load of fans and photographers.
“Wes?” Chris has gone back to sounding uncharacteristically cautious. “Mind swinging around to the back entrance?” His arm is back around me and his hand is caressing my shoulder, grazing up and down my skin and it’s already taking a bit of the edge off.
“No,” I find myself saying and now I know I’ve fallen into a parallel universe. One where I’m the girlfriend of a famous rock god.
“Rebecca, I appreciate it, but you’ve gone so far beyond your daily challenge. The least I can do is make it as comfortable for you as I can. It’s no problem to go in the back.”
“Chris, I’m done with daily challenges,” I blurt out, crazily enough without stuttering. With how fast my blood is pumping, that’s normally a sure thing, but Chris’s hand still rubbing my arm is keeping me grounded somehow.
“Wait, what?” He looks flabbergasted and it’s cute. “But you’re here…”
“I think…” I try to voice my thoughts out loud. “I think this is just my life now.”
His lower jaw falls slack and his eyes dart around, searching mine out. “You mean… you can just do this now?” He gestures around us.
“Well, it’s not second nature,” I lift a shoulder. “It will never be, in fact, it will always be hard. But it’s, I don’t know… possible now. It’s doable.”
That really is the best way to put it. Like I’ve crossed over a small chasm from the unthinkable to the doable. It’s like I’m in a new stage of my life I never knew I was supposed to enter.
Chris seems to be searching for words. Another occurrence that is starting to be less of a rarity. It’s like he’s entered some knew realm of his own. Or perhaps… we’ve met each other halfway?
“Are you sure?” He asks, and while I love how calmly attentive he’s being, I’d give anything to put that whacky smile I love, back on his face. I nod vigorously. “I won’t leave you for even a second,” he promises. “Remember, it’s just some harmless noise and a few flashing lights. All you need to do is smile and be your radiant self.”
I nod again, nervously blowing out a breath as the door to the car opens. I can do this. I’m on the arm of a rock legend who thinks I’m radiant. How bad can it be?
Welcome to Thunderdome.
An ominous, synthesized tempo is our soundtrack as Chris leads me to the VIP section of one of the city’s high end nightclubs. It’s a blur of writhing bodies and drinks spilling, and I try to keep some kind of tunnel vision as he weaves us through it.
On our way in, there were indeed some of the aforementioned flashing lights as the people behind them shouted questions.