Hereyes opened, her lids fixed in a half-hooded state as she stared up at me in asex-produced euphoria. She tightened her grip on my neck.
“Writinga song for me?” she asked, her lips smiling affectionately as I continued thelazy movements of my hips. Not to chase an orgasm—an explosive climax toconclude our alleyway tryst—but to chase her heart around those old streets ofPhilly before I no longer could without being noticed.
“I’malways writing a song about you,” I said, my eyes never leaving hers. “You’rethe reason why all of this is happening, you know.”
“Ihave nothing to do with this,” she whispered, scraping her nails down along myneck. “This is all you, babe.”
“No,”I said, gently shaking my head. “I loved you and your dreamscametrue. Who says the same couldn’t happen once you lovedme?”
Sheheld my gaze and her teeth tugged at her lower lip as the uncertainty of heremotion ebbed and flowed until she asked, “Does it matter when I fell in lovewith you?”
“No,”I said, pressing my forehead to hers. “Just as long as you never stop.”
Ikissed her slowly, my tongue dancing lazily with hers with long, smoothstrokes. Anybody who saw us would have only thought we were simply making out,deeply, after a night of drinks. They wouldn’t have heard my heart. Nobody buther could hear its chanting:never stop, never stop, never stop.
?
Satisfiedand hungry, we decided to order room service instead of ducking into arestaurant. Walkinghand-in-handback to our room, wecaught Robbie sitting on a sofa in the hotel lobby with his black Stratocasterpropped up on his thigh and his heavy Doc Martens perched on an armchair. Thehigh-pitched plucking of the electric without an amp, saddened my ears as weapproached.
“Hey,”I said, catching his attention with a wave.
Lookingup from his quality time with the Strat in his arms, he threw us a tight-lippedsmile. “O’Leary and his pretty, pretty Princess,” he said, tipping his head.“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Isniffed a laugh. “Just thought I’d say hi before we head upstairs. Have youeaten dinner yet?”
“Nope.Why? Youinvitingme?” His eyes twinkled withmischief.
Kylie’shand tightened around mine, and I shrugged. “Well, if you want to—”
“I’mkidding, O’Leary. I’m going to head down the street to a pub and get shitfaced.Are you two interested in tagging along? I’m sure they have virgin piña coladasfor Princess over here.”
Ipushed myself to smile. “No thanks, man. Long day tomorrow. We’re just going toorder some room service and get to sleep.”
“Uh-huh,sleep. Sure,” he teased with a chuckle and a wink before returning hisattention back to the guitar in his lap. “Nightnight,Princess. Don’t let the monsters in the closet getya.”
“Night,Robbie,” I said, chuckling before turning to lead a cringing Kylie to theelevator.
Inside,she turned to me, tipping her brows with unexplained worry. “Why do you keeptrying with him?”
“He’sjust teasing you, baby,” I assured her, although I wasn’t all that convinced ofit myself. “He just has a shitty sense of humor.”
Sheshook her head, watching the blinking numbers above the elevator doors. “Idon’t know, Devin. He rubs me the wrong way. There’s something about him, and—”
Ishrugged. “Kylie, the guy is a rock star. He’s played with a ton of people.”
“Yeah,and he’s also lost a ton of jobs, too,” she reminded me. “And since when didbeing arock stargive someone the right to be a jerk?”
“Itdoesn’t,” I agreed, “but the guy knows people. You don’t want to piss off theguy that knows people.”
“Maybethey’re not the type of people you want to know, Dev,” she offered gently,dropping her gaze to the floor.
“Andmaybeyou’re just being paranoid,” I said lightheartedly, nudging myelbow against her arm and squeezing her hand in mine.
Wegot to our floor and then to our room. Using the card key, the door opened, andI pushed inside, immediately grabbed the menu and plopped down on the couch. I onlynoticed Kylie staring at me when I looked up to ask what she wanted to eat.
Sheworried her lower lip between her teeth, hands held awkwardly over her chest asshe spun one of her rings around and around her finger.
Ilowered the menu to my lap. “What’s wrong, baby?”
