Love Will (64 page)

“I trust you. But I want to know what she said…”

I tell her about the entire conversation. She stays silent for the entire retelling, and I make sure not to leave out a single detail.

“I made sure to point out that you were nothing like her,” I explain at the end. “I know it was kind of petty, but can you blame me?” She doesn’t answer. I look at the phone to make sure we didn’t get disconnected. The call timer’s still counting the minutes. “Shea?” I listen closer into the speaker, turning up the volume. I can hear her slow breathing.
She fell asleep
.

I laugh to myself. I’d worried that she would be moderately upset that I didn’t tell her earlier. That she would take that as me hiding something from her, but it turns out, she doesn’t seem to care at all.

I decide to find my iPod and a pair of earbuds, and pick a soothing playlist that I often use to try to help me sleep. Leaving the call active, I place one of the earbuds next to the mic so if she wakes up, she’ll have something to listen to.

After getting ready for bed, I put in the other earbud and turn off the lights. Once I check one last time to make sure she hasn’t awoken, I shut my eyes and see the barrage of numbers and shapes parading through my mind. I let them blend with the cool blues and purples of the current song I’m hearing, the vision now a beautiful abstract work of art. If only someone could reach into my brain and transpose what I see onto a canvas, I think I’d be a pretty kick-ass artist. Unfortunately, that technology doesn’t exist–
yet
–and Jon got all the fine art skills in the family. When the song is over, the illusion melts away, but is quickly replaced by another with different colors and formulas and geometric shapes.

I let this go on for a few more songs before I bring in my new, trusty secret weapon: Shea. Memories of her or imaginings of us together in situations that have yet to happen sweep away the clutter, slow my overactive brain to a restful pace, remove the worry of problems I didn’t solve today, and allow me to sleep. Tonight, knowing she’s on the other end of that phone is as good as having her next to me in my bed. I hold a spare pillow close to me, pretending it’s her, and listen as the song carries me into a dream where we’re living together in Manhattan. I’m tying her sneaker in the middle of a run through Central Park. When I stand, she hands me a bottle of water we’re sharing. It’s completely ordinary, but the unity I feel with her in that moment is like nothing I’ve experienced with another human being in my life.

In the morning, it’s quiet in the room–almost. I hear the faint, tinny noise of my music coming from my headphones, which are no longer near my ears. I find my phone on the floor beside the bed. Apparently, my sleep was restless, even though I don’t feel the effects of that at all.

Shea’s disconnected our call, but left me a text.

- - I woke up to one of Damon’s songs: Harness

- - I’ve never paid attention to the lyrics before, but something tells me you wrote it:

Bucking, wild, can’t rein me in

Sultry, sweet, the taste of sin

Flee each night from where I’ve been

No harness made will hold me

And she cannot control me

There’s no praise for the virtueless,

A man untamed, like me.

- - I’d never want to control you, Will, but I’ll extol your virtues until you believe you’re worthy of every last word. I love you. And I’d like to think you’re a little less wild; a little more tamed. Maybe?

- Let’s just say the taste of your sin will keep me from fleeing.

- Consider it the harness.

- Consider me reined in.

- It’s a good song, though, right?

I wasn’t sure if she’d be by the phone or not, so I’m happy to see the little graphic bubble that shows that she’s responding. Sitting up to stretch, I wait patiently to see her message back.

- - It’s a sexy song.

- - We should make love to that song.

- Now? I’m turned on already.

- - When are you not? I meant when we see each other again.

- So that’s a no?

- - I have a little catering job today. I told you about it.

- I didn’t forget.

- Hey… every time you see someone licking their dessert from their spoon, I want you to think of me licking that sin from your body. Okay?

- - Will! That’s not fair. I’m only going there to serve my desserts, you know. And it’s mousse. That’s all they’ll be doing, licking their spoons!

- You told me what you were making.

- I know what I was saying. I want to be the only thing you think about while you’re there… and the first person you call when you get home.

- - I’ll call you first thing.

- I’ll have the song queued up and ready to play.

- Have I told you I love you today?

- - No.

I unplug my earbuds and press the call button.

“You can be so bad sometimes,” she says in lieu of a typical
hello
.

“Remnants of the old me. I make no apologies. Take the good with the bad,” I tell her facetiously.

“You know I like it.”

“I know you do. And I love you. You can harness me anytime, Shea. Exploit me to your heart’s content, because I’m yours.”

“I don’t want to exploit you…”

“Sexually… use me.”

“Oh… I can do that.”

“I know you can. Today?”

“It’ll be difficult over the phone, but I will do my very best.”

“I love a woman who faces a challenge head-on.”

“For such a smart man, you say some silly things sometimes.”

“I think it adds complexity to my character,” I say in a mockingly-thoughtful tone.

“Because the genius-level IQ, your education, and your natural talents don’t do that already? I feel like your left brain and right brain are both so powerful they may soon be fighting to the death… you could be in real trouble, like, any day now.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” I say with a chuckle.

“Hey, Will
Spaceman
… it doesn’t work that way.”

“Thank you, Shea.
Thank you
for clarifying that. Oh, and by the way, when you see those people licking their spoons, don’t think about the whole me-licking-your-sin-thing, okay?”

She laughs into the phone. “Stop saying that. But why are you telling me not to?”

“Because I have to get on a bus in an hour and a half, and then we’ll be in rehearsal and shit. And I don’t have time for that this afternoon. I don’t want to leave you high and dry… or wet… as it were.”

“Oh, I hate you. I’m not going to be able to un-think that now!”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking. But… I’ll be at the hotel tonight. No show to go to. We’ll probably go out, but we won’t be too late. If you’re not busy, I’d love to, uh… stay in with you.”

“You’re asking me…
in
? For a date?”

“I am. Charge up your phone and clean off your camera.”

“I’ll dress appropriately,” she says. “I accept.”

“I can’t wait.”

Chapter 27

“Double down on eleven. Split aces and eights. Got it?” Tavo asks me as we walk toward the blackjack tables.

“I heard you the first three times, dude,” I tell him as I glance down, still surprised to see the black pants covering his legs. We’d all decided to dress up for our last night in Vegas before flying up to Idaho. When Ben had planned the tour, he scheduled in a four-day vacation for us, so the band members and Alex have all enjoyed three fully-stocked, two-bedroom penthouse suites. We’ve eaten like kings and I’ve been close to unconscious at nights in the most comfortable bed that could possibly exist. I haven’t even heard the shenanigans that have been going on in Damon and Tavo’s suite next door. Peron’s bitched about the noise every morning, but once I’ve talked to Shea at night, I drift off to sleep and don’t wake up until our most familiar star dances behind my eyelids, informing me that another day lies ahead.

It’s not like Peron wasn’t making noise of his own. He had met a girl who was in town for a conference, and brought her back to his room the last two nights. She seemed a little stuck up, and quite conservative. Not the type of girl you’d expect to have a random hookup with a traveling rock star. But Peron’s not your typical musician. She’d probably never sleep with the likes of me. Not without one too many drinks and the encouragement of a few drunk girlfriends, anyway.

During the days, we spent most of our time apart. This, being my first time in Vegas, I had a lot of exploring to do, and not everyone had the same interests as I did–at all. The National Atomic Testing Museum wasn’t on
anyone’s
to-do list, and it wasn’t because they’d already seen it. Even the Area 51 exhibit wasn’t enough to lure anyone to go with me. I was more than a little astounded at the amount of scientific data they had amassed in that location. I could have spent days in there, if they’d given me full access.

Alex went with me on the Hoover Dam shuttle tour, but just because he didn’t want me to go alone. He had no interest in seeing the engineering marvel, but was polite enough to listen as I rattled off the history of its construction, the challenges builders faced, the details of its operation, and the number of deaths associated with the project. At the end of the day, he bought a postcard and a mug to send to his ten-year-old daughter who lived with his ex-wife in LA, and asked me to take a picture of him at the dam before we left.

I’d spent about thirty minutes total on nickel slots since we landed. I couldn’t justify blowing my money on gambling, so I had quit while I was ahead. The rest of the guys had insisted we all play the tables tonight, so I’d set a limit of two-hundred dollars for myself. Even that amount is painful to part with, but when none of the other guys flinched at the thought of losing their hard-earned cash, I decided to stop protesting. There was no way in hell I would admit to my brothers what I was doing tonight, though. We just weren’t brought up like this. I know Jon’s never come to Vegas. He’s never been to Atlantic City, either. We never even played poker games at home; hence the crash-course in blackjack with Tavo.

“I bet you’ll be one of those card counters,” he says quietly. “If you find yourself doing that, you can’t make it obvious. Do it, but don’t get caught. You’ll get us kicked out.”

“I’ll be too focused on why the dealer’s cards aren’t perfectly aligned, or trying to figure out the probability of one of us getting a blackjack with each hand.”

“That’s what counting cards is for.”

“Then I guess I’ll inadvertently be doing that.”

“Shhh!”

“I don’t plan to be in the game long enough to get any good at that, don’t worry.”

“Then you can help us!”

“Oh, Tavo…”

“Can I get you two something to drink?” a waitress asks as we approach the table where Damon, Peron and Bradley are surrounded by women.

“Jack and Coke,” my friend says.

“Just a Coke.”

“It’s Will Rosser!” a girl squeals, moving away from me.

I smile at her, encouraging her back to where she was standing next to her friend. I don’t bother to correct her. “How are you tonight?”

“Oh my God. I’m good. Oh my God.”

“Calm down, Maribeth! She’s not normally like this,” her friend says.

I look down at my suit and back up at the two of them, then shake my head. “I’m not normally like
this
. It’s cool. This is Tavo…”

“I know who Tavo is!” Maribeth says, still grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Good!” our drummer says, walking over and putting his arm around her. “You any good at blackjack?”

“No,” she says.

“Then I bet you’re good luck. Come stand next to me.” He finds an empty seat across from Damon and sits down. I watch them play until another stranger runs out of chips and walks away.

“Join us, Will,” my best friend says. I trade my cash in for chips and take a deep breath before putting two red ones onto the table.
One-twentieth of my cash
. Everyone else is already much riskier. If this were pool, I’d be all about high-stakes, because I know what I’m capable of. But this isn’t skill-based. This is luck of the draw. I know we’re all making decent money on performance royalties, and I’ve got more coming in on older songs I’ve written–not to mention the check I just got–but I know what it’s like to have nothing, and I doubt it’d be difficult to find my way back there.