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Page 41
Page 41
“Bro, I get fucking pussy!” Vin cried. “I even have a new pick-up line other than ‘I’m in a fucking band. Come suck my dick.’”
“This should be good,” McAvoy muttered.
“So, I walk up to a chick, all sad-like, and say, ‘I feel so sad.’ When she asks, ‘Why?’ I say, ‘Because my dick just died. Can I bury it in your ass?’”
All three of us groaned at the same time.
I covered my face and shook my head. Only Vin.
“Guys, it’ll totally fucking work!”
Then, we were all laughing like idiots at Vin’s horrible joke, and it felt like old times.
“Don’t go,” Ari whispered against my chest.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
I kissed the top of her head and wrapped my arms around her.
Ari had driven us to the airport since none of the other girls were currently speaking to us, courtesy of Gabi’s meltdown on Saturday night. All our band equipment and extra stuff had been packed up and shipped down to New Orleans by the record label. So, we just had our carry-ons, which had all fit into the trunk of her BMW.
“I know. I know.”
I looked down into her face and gave her a little piece of hope. “Maybe you can fly out for a weekend show.”
She looked skeptical. “I have so much to do since the end of the semester is coming up. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away.”
“Well, we’ll figure something out once the semester is over then.”
“Okay,” she said softly. Her eyes dropped to the floor.
“Hey, Princess.” I grasped her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me. “I love you. I can’t have you fucking moping while I’m gone.”
“I’m not moping,” she snapped. “I can miss you without moping.”
Finally, I smiled. There was my spitfire.
“I believe you. Now, promise me you’ll be careful.”
She sighed heavily. “We’ve already been through this. I’m not stupid. I can remember something as important as avoiding your dad.”
“I’m serious, Ari. This isn’t a fucking game.” My voice dropped lower as I spoke for her ears only, “My dad is a murderer. He’s not going to hesitate if he figures out who you are, and I don’t want you to be anywhere near him when he explodes. If you see anything that looks suspicious, call me right away, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“I wish you would take my gun.”
She determinedly shook her head. “No way. I don’t need a gun! It’s never going to come to that.”
I frowned. She really had no idea what would happen if my father found out who she was. I wished I could prepare her, but there was only so much I could say. I fucking prayed there was a god out there somewhere to answer the first prayer I’d said to him in thirteen fucking years. He needed to take care of Ari. If he did, then maybe we’d start talking again.
“Grant!” Miller called. “Time to go, man.”
I waved at him and then crushed Ari against me. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Be careful, Princess. I can’t have anything happening to you.”
“I’ll be fine, Grant. Go become a rock star.”
I smirked at her. “I already am, darlin’.”
The first week wasn’t that bad.
I had so much work to do for school and all the time in the world to get it done. In fact, I had so much time to do homework that I completed assignments way before their due date. How had I ever spent this much time on homework? It was truly baffling.
The second week was torture.
Even though I spoke to Grant every day on the phone, I missed him like crazy. And the worst part was, I couldn’t even talk to my roommates about missing Grant without getting angry death glares. They’d all dated the other guys when Grant and I were in an argument over Christmas break, and now, Grant and I were the only ones left intact.
I couldn’t fix that, and they clearly didn’t want the reminder. So, I found reasons to be out of the apartment all the time. I practically lived in the library. But one afternoon, I had this strange realization. I was completely caught up on homework, and I had absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go.
My afternoons used to be filled with band practice. My evenings had been full of rock concerts, dates, and quality time in the bedroom. Now…my days were blown wide open. I needed a hobby or something, but I’d never been that interested in anything other than school. Plus, I’d never had time to do anything with the amount of work that always piled up.
As I contemplated the various options I had—Should I learn to play a sport, take up painting, pick up an instrument?—I found myself on the way over to Grant’s place without even realizing it. A smile touched my face as I drove down the familiar path. If he were here right now, the guys would be crowding into the garage to start band practice.
I felt a little silly, driving over there, but I didn’t turn around. I still had stuff at his place, and if I was in the neighborhood anyway, then I could pick it up. Maybe I could grab a T-shirt of his to sleep in.
Oh my God, who was this girl inhabiting my body? She was so guy-crazy compared to the me that I knew.
To be honest, I kind of liked it. This was what it should feel like anyway—with butterflies and all that. Everything before Grant had been a joke, a cruel joke on what love was supposed to feel like. It was no wonder I had waited so long to have sex.
I didn’t even blush at the thought.
My car rounded the corner, and I brightened at the sight of Grant’s shiny blue truck in the driveway. I knew he missed having the freedom of his truck. Both bands were stuffed together in a tour bus driving them around to the various venues. Grant was trying to steer clear of Donovan, but it was difficult to do in a tightly confined space with zero privacy. Apparently though, there was no animosity with any of the other guys. I just thought Donovan needed to get over it.
Parking on the street in front of the house, I hopped out of the car and jogged up to the front door. I slid my key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered Grant’s house. After I shut the door, I climbed the stairs up to his bedroom and sighed when I stepped inside. Despite myself, I collapsed back into his unmade bed and breathed in the smell of him.
“Oh my God,” I groaned, feeling a little bit ridiculous.
I jumped out of bed and quickly located the clothes I’d left here, grabbed a black T-shirt from Grant’s drawer, and then carried the bag of stuff downstairs. It would be nice to sit around at his place all afternoon and not have to worry about my roommates, but maybe it was time to confront them about this. I didn’t want to have to keep avoiding my own apartment. I felt bad about Gabi’s breakup, but my relationship with Grant had no bearing on what had happened.