His interest perks. "Really?"
I hold a poker face for as long as I can (about fifteen seconds). Another laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head.
"Don't even make coffee. So greedy."
"Hey! I live around the corner from a Philz Coffee. I always offer them a few bucks to pick something up."
"So you make them feel cheap too?" He shakes his head. "What do you scream when you come if you don't know their names? 'Baby' or 'Oh God' or 'Fuck yeah'?"
"What do you scream out when you come?"
"Only one way to find out."
He can't be serious.
Tom laughs. "Kidding. You seem like a nice kid, and I know better than to get between Drew and someone he wants to protect. You and I... we're just friends."
Tom and I are going to be friends. I can do that. I nod. Just friends. No problem.
I'll only be around him a few days if I get the gig.
There's a buzz on the other side of the bench. That's a loud vibrate alert. Tom attends to something on his phone. I check the rest of the pictures on my camera for anything remotely appropriate for this assignment. There's nothing.
The waitress interrupts our silence with a promise our food is almost ready. Once she's gone, Tom slides his phone into his pocket and turns all his attention to me.
"How oftendoyou get laid?" he asks.
"That is incredibly classified."
"Suit yourself."
Okay. Two can play this game. I tease back. "If you're such a proud manwhore, why did you get a piercing right before going on tour?"
"There's no time like the present. If you want something, why wait?"
"But you're permanently changing your body."
"I did my research. Read about the risks, found a piercer with experience. After that, there's no reason to waste time deciding. Do it or don't." He leans closer. "What did you think?"
Think? It's not possible to think in this state. That piercing, god that piercing. What would it feel like in my hands, my mouth, my—
"You do like it." He laughs. "My eyes are up here, kid."
"I know." I finish my water. How can I be this attracted to Tom? I haven't wanted anyone in years. He's hot, yes, but there have been other hot guys. I go on dates. Kiss even.
I never feel anything this intense. Hell, I never feel anything. Period.
The waitress drops off our food and refills our waters. She fawns over Tom, fetching him several kinds of hot sauce and brushing her hand against his wrist without asking permission.
When she's done flirting, he scoops his dish and a fair helping of rice onto a side plate and passes it to me. "Try it."
"You don't have to do that."
"I thought we covered this. I don't do things unless I want to do them."
"Okay. Thank you." I try a bite of eggplant. It's good. Tender. Spicy. After I swallow, I lick the oil off my lips.
He watches me with a cocky smile. He knows I like it but he doesn't brag about it.
