shot appeared on the bar. I eyed it, and then Cam. “You’re going to have to drive me home if you keep this up.”
“Maybe that’s our problem.” Cam played with a lock of my hair. “We wouldn’t have to keep putting on a show if we lived together.”
H oly shit. Either this tequila was the most potent stuff on earth, or Cam really just asked me to move in with him.
“You can’t give me two of those and then expect me to make big decisions.” I knew I was making those ugly drunk faces. Slutty Gumby, anyone? The shots made me instantly sea sick, a big accomplishment on solid ground. My joints felt rubbery, and my chin was rapidly melting into my neck. “And all we ever do is fuck.”
“Wouldn’t it make our favorite pastime a little easier if we lived together?” The crooked smile. Maybe. Cam’s eyes were floating around his face. “There’s plenty of time to get to know each other.”
I steadied myself on the arms of the bar stool. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Whoever you are, I like it.” He leaned in and kissed me, quick and chaste. Thank God, I don’t think I could have handled his tongue in my mouth. “I have to go on stage.”
“Can I have some water?” I asked him before he left me, and had never been so appreciative to receive anything in my life. I almost forgot to take off the little paper topper. That would have made me puke for sure. The cold water melted some of the fur off of my tongue.
The show that people actually came to see had started while Cam and I were performing in the back room. The place had filled in, a sea of anonymous faces enjoying their Saturday night. I’d never been so thankful to be a part of a crowd as I was at that moment. I was too drunk to freak out over it. I blended into the crowd, just another townie trying to live it up deep in the burbs. I had no idea who walked in on us. The packed room either worked in my favor, or the word spread like wildfire.
Cam joined the band on stage. Tonight he wasn’t singing, yet anyway, he was playing rhythm guitar. Cam just couldn’t stay off the stage. He understood that some of the crowd was there to see him, it was after all his place. But what he really wanted to do was build the local musician’s community. South of the city was a vast wasteland of sucky entertainment. People down here were practically starving for things to do. I’d asked him to consider some rock acts too, not just country. And artists that played their own music. There was only so much beer in the world, and I didn’t want to waste it all drowning out butchered renditions of Maroon 5.
I didn’t know the song they played, but the rest of the crowd sang along, rocking back and forth and fist pumping. My eyes were glued to Cam, his glow more than just the spotlight that was trained on him. His hair was still slightly damp from our play time, but otherwise, you’d never know what he’d been up to. It was our badly kept secret, and thinking about what we’d just done made my belly warm. Or maybe it was the tequila. My gaze fell to his fingers, plucking and tweaking the strings and making them cry out and sing, just like he’d done to me.
Once Cam left the stage, the crowd swallowed him and he disappeared from my sight. I attempted standing up on the rungs of my bar stool, but it would have been like trying to walk on water right now. Didn’t need to wind up flat on my ass in the middle of this crowd. Everyone’s head turned to the opposite corner of the room. I couldn’t see what was going on, but it looked like something pretty monumental from the way people were turning to see, then back to their friends with their eyes were wide and they were gesturing rapidly. No one was even paying attention to the band anymore.
People squeezed next to me, more intent on getting a drink than what was happening around them. I couldn’t see shit. One of the dudes getting a beer next to me had a serious case of BO, and I had to turn
“Maybe that’s our problem.” Cam played with a lock of my hair. “We wouldn’t have to keep putting on a show if we lived together.”
H oly shit. Either this tequila was the most potent stuff on earth, or Cam really just asked me to move in with him.
“You can’t give me two of those and then expect me to make big decisions.” I knew I was making those ugly drunk faces. Slutty Gumby, anyone? The shots made me instantly sea sick, a big accomplishment on solid ground. My joints felt rubbery, and my chin was rapidly melting into my neck. “And all we ever do is fuck.”
“Wouldn’t it make our favorite pastime a little easier if we lived together?” The crooked smile. Maybe. Cam’s eyes were floating around his face. “There’s plenty of time to get to know each other.”
I steadied myself on the arms of the bar stool. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Whoever you are, I like it.” He leaned in and kissed me, quick and chaste. Thank God, I don’t think I could have handled his tongue in my mouth. “I have to go on stage.”
“Can I have some water?” I asked him before he left me, and had never been so appreciative to receive anything in my life. I almost forgot to take off the little paper topper. That would have made me puke for sure. The cold water melted some of the fur off of my tongue.
The show that people actually came to see had started while Cam and I were performing in the back room. The place had filled in, a sea of anonymous faces enjoying their Saturday night. I’d never been so thankful to be a part of a crowd as I was at that moment. I was too drunk to freak out over it. I blended into the crowd, just another townie trying to live it up deep in the burbs. I had no idea who walked in on us. The packed room either worked in my favor, or the word spread like wildfire.
Cam joined the band on stage. Tonight he wasn’t singing, yet anyway, he was playing rhythm guitar. Cam just couldn’t stay off the stage. He understood that some of the crowd was there to see him, it was after all his place. But what he really wanted to do was build the local musician’s community. South of the city was a vast wasteland of sucky entertainment. People down here were practically starving for things to do. I’d asked him to consider some rock acts too, not just country. And artists that played their own music. There was only so much beer in the world, and I didn’t want to waste it all drowning out butchered renditions of Maroon 5.
I didn’t know the song they played, but the rest of the crowd sang along, rocking back and forth and fist pumping. My eyes were glued to Cam, his glow more than just the spotlight that was trained on him. His hair was still slightly damp from our play time, but otherwise, you’d never know what he’d been up to. It was our badly kept secret, and thinking about what we’d just done made my belly warm. Or maybe it was the tequila. My gaze fell to his fingers, plucking and tweaking the strings and making them cry out and sing, just like he’d done to me.
Once Cam left the stage, the crowd swallowed him and he disappeared from my sight. I attempted standing up on the rungs of my bar stool, but it would have been like trying to walk on water right now. Didn’t need to wind up flat on my ass in the middle of this crowd. Everyone’s head turned to the opposite corner of the room. I couldn’t see what was going on, but it looked like something pretty monumental from the way people were turning to see, then back to their friends with their eyes were wide and they were gesturing rapidly. No one was even paying attention to the band anymore.
People squeezed next to me, more intent on getting a drink than what was happening around them. I couldn’t see shit. One of the dudes getting a beer next to me had a serious case of BO, and I had to turn
Similar Books
