Page 118 of Down Beat

“Because we were being watched—case and point.”

“Oh.” My phone chimes with a message. “Sent.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“Hopefully he can help you decide what to do.” She pauses. “You know how I feel about this whole arrangement.”

“You want me to come home,” I state.

“And not just because I’m going crazy on my own.” Kendall laughs, the sound heartwarming. “I seriously contemplated getting a goldfish so I’d have something to talk to.”

“You need to catch up with your college buddies, hon. When was the last time you went to dinner with them?”

“Pfft. When I could afford to, so that would be, like, three years ago.” She hesitates. “We keep in touch on Facebook, so it’s not as though I’m a complete hermit.”

“Except that you are.”

“Hey,” she protests. “You aren’t much better… usually.”

“Truth.”

Weekend drinks at happy hour once a month was about as adventurous as she and I would get. Even more reason why I’d hoped to tag along on some of the things the band get up to outside the shows.

“How is your new material coming along?”

“Slow.” I push the menu around the coffee table before me. “I thought I’d get inspired being in new places, but instead I just feel… I don’t know, unsettled?”

“You’re distracted.”

Am I what. “I told Rey he needed to have a sit down with the guys and talk through what’s going on.”

“What did he do?”

“Sat on the balcony and smoked until it was time for them to go.”

She snorts. “Open to change, then.”

“Exactly.” I push the menu aside and kick back. “It’s like he knows what his issues are, yet he doesn’t think he needs to do anything about it. Well, no, he wants to, he maybe can’t see how? I don’t know. It’s confusing anyway.”

“And what do the others do?” A rustle cuts through the line as she juggles the phone.

“Act as though nothing will ever change, too. Toby’s real pissed at him. Have you talked to him lately?”

Her pregnant pause says it all. “He went quiet a couple of days ago. I figured I was a fun one-off thing, you know?”

“Men.”

“Right?”

My fingers toy with the loose thread on the hem of my T-shirt. “What would you do, if you were me, babe?”

“It’s hard to say, Tab. What does your gut tell you?”

“Stick it out.” An opinion that’s no doubt clouded by the epic orgasm he gave me at the last hotel.

“You don’t have to tell me details,” Kendall levels, “but what exactly are you two? I mean he kissed you, like, superhot before you two left. Are you…?”

“Fucking?”