Page 63 of Down Beat
TWENTY-FOUR
Tabitha
“Heart-Shaped Box” - Nirvana
The snap of my neck as my head lolls forward wakes me up in a flash. Fast enough that my addled brain leaves me nauseous. I tried to stay awake until after Rey’s show would be finished, I really did. But given the last few days, I’m exhausted. Heaven knows how he does it.
Probably with one or two illegal substances in his system.
I don’t exactly know what I waited for, anyway. Another cheeky message? Another rub to my ego?
Don’t make it out to be more than it is, Tab. He probably thinks the messages are a bit of fun: the celebrity rock star playing with the gullible pauper violinist. He taps out one harmless enough question, and I metaphorically spread my goddamn legs for him.
Leave it up to your imagination if I sleep naked…. Pfft. What the hell am I doing? I’ve got no interest in a guy like him. Do I?
Like the weak individual I am, I reach for my phone and seek out his validation. Is my self-esteem really that low, that I’m resorting to innuendo-laden messaging with a guy who could easily tear my career to shreds with one lash of his tongue?
Yes. Yes it is.
I wake the screen, giddy to find a message waiting from Rey. Even more thrilling is the fact he sent it less than an hour ago and that he’s still online. Eep! It must have come through as I dozed off.
R: I’m putting money on you not sleeping naked. I’m seeing a cute little tank and booty-short combo, maybe kittens with ice cream cones as the print, maybe polka dots. I can’t imagine you being reckless enough to risk the paper cuts to sensitive areas if you’re writing music like you say.
T: Maybe I don’t write on paper? Can’t get a paper cut with an iPad.
My heart matches the pace of his dots as he words a reply.
R: See, now you’re starting something very, very dangerous, kitty.
R: Shouldn’t you be asleep?
All manner of sex-orientated replies flit through my mind; he’s left it wide open for me. Yet I hold on to the last strands of my restraint and type a simple reply.
T: Shouldn’t you be out partying it up or whatever rock stars do after a show?
R: Hate to disappoint you, babe, but you shouldn’t believe everything you read. I’m tucked up in bed, ready to rest up before tomorrow night’s show. Leave it up to your imagination if I’m naked or not ;)
Hot damn. I fan myself with the phone. All I can hear is the sound of my blood as it whooshes through my ears. Dangerous is a mild understatement when it comes to the fine line we walk.
T: I’m picking you don’t like the cold much—most pampered types don’t—so you’re all wrapped up in a super sexy, alluring onesie, complete with the buttoned-up butt flap.
I get a line of teary-eyed laughing emoticons in reply… right before the now-familiar Messenger alert sings out as my screen changes. Shit. Totally not prepared for this. I run a quick hand over my hair, and then the side of my finger under my eyes, before checking the sheet is high under my arms and tapping to answer.
“Ha!” I’m greeted with a huge grin. The fact his head and shoulders fill the screen, hair fanned out on the pillow, tells me he holds the phone above him in bed. “Knew it.”
“What?” I glance down, and then back at the tiny picture in the corner that shows me what he sees.
“I figured if you took ages to answer, it meant you were naked and needed to get dressed. But you answered in five seconds, so I’m right: you wear pajamas to bed.”
I cock an eyebrow. “No kittens or ice creams though.”
He makes a mock sad face, shifting around in the bed to seemingly get more comfortable. “Can’t have it all, I suppose.”
“Well?” I square my shoulders and cock an eyebrow. “What about you?”
He smirks, the sort that I’m sure has destroyed thousands of hearts, and twists the phone to scan down his body. The blankets lift out of the way, the camera panning across his notably tattooed chest, and then down over his flat, yet undefined stomach. I suck in a sharp breath, waiting for the edge of the screen to crest past that telltale V, certain he’s only winding me up because he has boxers on, yet the image blurs as he whips it back to his face with a chuckle.
“That’s as far as I’m going.”