I giggled, knowing we’d just bonded a little more, even if she did roll her eyes and leave. I stared at my phone as the question of ‘Tonight?’ glared back at me.
I finally texted back.
Looking forward to it.
I finished washing my dishes with a slaphappy grin on my face.
Later that night, Alexis was holed up in her bedroom, and I was just settling down into my bed with my e-reader when my cell phone rang.
I answered before the first ringtone played completely through.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Salem,” Chris’s smooth voice poured through the phone.
“Hi.” I was smiling ear to ear and wondered if he could hear it.
“It’s good to hear your voice finally,” he sighed, sounding tired. “It’s been a long fucking week.”
I couldn’t decide, by the way he said it, if the week was long because he’d been busy or because he’d waited so long to hear my voice.
“It’s good to hear your voice too,” I admitted, feeling a little bashful. “So, how’s life on the road?”
“Eh, it sucks sometimes, but for the most part we have a pretty good time. How have you been?” he asked.
“Pretty good. Same old, same old…” I struggled to find something interesting to say about my everyday life, but couldn’t find the words. Life as a rock star seemed much more intriguing. “So,” I said, changing the subject, “what’s it like, always on the go, traveling the States?”
Chris exhaled sharply. “Honestly, I’m exhausted. And I’d love a home cooked meal… specifically breakfast. You just can’t get a good homemade biscuit with gravy… or apple butter… or fried livermush through a drive-thru.” He thought for a minute, as if he were savoring the memory of a home-cooked meal. “Oh, and sweet tea… Damn, I’d kill for some good old fashioned sweet tea right about now. You know, the kind that steeped for hours on my grandma’s back porch.” He paused. “I guess, other than that, I can’t complain.”
“Glad to hear you’re making the best of it. You know, if you’re ever down this way, I’ve got your home-cooked meal covered,” I offered without thinking. I was pretty decent at cooking, but I was certainly no pro. I hoped Chris’s expectations weren’t too high.
“Really? I could definitely go for that,” he agreed, sounding thoroughly pleased. “We’ll be heading that way in a few weeks. Passing through Charlotte on our way to Atlanta. You game?”
“Absolutely! I’d love to see you… I mean, cook for you.” I suddenly felt like an idiot for jumping the gun.
He sounded excited. “Great! It’s a date.”
His words put my mind at ease. I loved the way he used the word ‘date.’ He probably didn’t actually mean date, but it sounded good anyway. My heart galloped in my chest at the thought of seeing him again.
“I look forward to it. So, you want breakfast, huh?” I asked him thoughtlessly. Just then, it hit me.
Oh god, I hope he doesn’t interpret that as meaning breakfast in the morning… after he spends the night!
I immediately tried to correct myself. “I mean, for supper… breakfast as the meal… at night…” I stuttered, digging myself deeper into a hole. Just let it go, Salem.
He laughed, amused by my stammering. “I’m not picky. Trust me.”
“Famous last words,” I murmured, knowing he wouldn’t understand my inside joke with Alexis.
Graciously trying to drop it, he suggested, “Just surprise me.”
“You got it.” I couldn’t help but smile thinking of the fact that I would get to see him again in a few weeks, and he’d be eating at my table with me. And then the smile vanished, remembering my place. Former counselor.
“Well,” he asked, changing the subject, “what have you been up to lately?”
“Just busy with work. I got a new client this week, so I’ve been busy with intake stuff. And, of course, Alexis keeps me burning the roads with school and dance. The busy life of a teenager. She keeps me on my toes.”
“I bet,” he said, sounding genuinely interested.
“How about you?” I asked. I wondered if he’d start spouting off about the number of women who’d thrown themselves at him this past week. It was all over social media.
He suddenly sounded distracted as he rambled, “Eh, I’ve been busy. We play shows three to four nights per week. It’s rough sometimes, and this rat trap tour bus sucks ass sometimes… shut up, Jeremy… but we manage. Sorry, my asshole drummer is annoying me.”