I made popcorn, settled into bed at six and texted snarky commentary with Hunter. When Bender was under the desk with his face in between Claire’s legs, I was treated to a play-by-play of what Hunter would have done to me instead.
The fact that I had proof of his technique left me gasping. The texts devolved from there, and I went to bed so wound up I almost took care of my own needs for the first time in a month.
Not good.
Not good at all.
8
Hunter
“Would you stop grinning at your phone. It’s getting pathetic.”
I glanced over at Wyatt. “Jealous?”
“Of your twisted teen action with Kennedy? Hardly.”
“Hey, I have to woo with states between us. There’s only so much I can do.”
Wyatt stretched out his legs. “Still pathetic.”
I flicked through the pictures I’d taken in Nevada. “What kind of picture do I send to a girl who’s from Vegas?”
“Picking out the next glass print?”
“Yeah.”
“You know we’re actually going to be home tonight.”
“I know.” I still wasn’t quite sure of my welcome. We’d been doing promotional gigs for the last three weeks. The original schedule had been for a week, but the sales had been so good Dex had extended it to a mini-tour.
My original plan had been to put myself on her doorstep as much as possible for the last few weeks. I wanted to show her how much I needed her in my life. Unfortunately, my schedule had been less than conducive to that.
I only hoped that she saw through the notes and late night video chats to understand that I’d do whatever it took to make her see how important she was to me.
And if she didn’t show me that green bra and panty set from last night in person, I was going to go out of my mind. Green should be associated with money, Kermit, or a football field—it shouldn’t be making me think of curves and a downy-soft triangle of red hair.
But as with most things that had to do with Kenny, I was left holding my dick and praying for a turn in the tide.
It wasn’t even just the sex—though, I had to admit a lot of it still included that as a goal. I was only human after all. I was greedy for the throaty laugh she gave me when I amused her. I could honestly say I was as attracted to her brain as I was to her banging body.
She trounced me in Words With Friends on a daily basis, she knew an obscene amount of dialogue from eighties movies, and even got me watching Supernatural with Keys and Owen.
I got to know her more without being in her air space than I had with any other woman in my thirty-two years, including Victoria. And more importantly, I knew I’d never meet another woman like her.
The flight attendant did a last minute check through the cabin, dragging me back the present. I ordered a print of a vintage headdress I’d snapped when we’d gone to the Bellagio for an intimate concert. Impulsively I added a second photo of the trunk of guitars that had been overturned. We’d been pissed at first, but then we’d all grabbed a random guitar and played one of our oldest songs, “Hide the Scars” to a packed out room.
It had been the first time the band had actually found some of the magic we’d had as kids. Fame, the magazine, life, and fights had definitely changed some of our dynamic.
We’d played like a garage band for the first time in years. And I found that I wanted that back more than I realized. To get back to basics in more ways than one.
I pulled out my iPad Pro pencil and wrote my usual notes to Kenny and added them to the back of the print. I finished my order just as the pilot announced our descent.
The local print company in Los Angeles was making a mint off of me. One more order and I was going to be eligible for platinum status. But I liked that they got it to her within six hours.
Sometimes I didn’t mind using my name to get things done.
As soon as the doors opened on the tarmac, Bats was out of his seat and down the stairs.
“Are you ever going to talk to him?” Wyatt asked as he pulled down his bag from the overhead storage.
“Now he’s the one avoiding me.”
“Maybe because he’s sick of being yelled at.”
“Fair enough.” I was sick of yelling. I was also sick of Victoria bringing nothing but misery to our doors, but I’d been so focused on Kenny that I hadn’t had time to keep watch over Bats.
Keys and Owen were cleaning up piles of Uno cards from their chairs and the floor. Keys had packed her card canon. She was our queen of board games on the bus and flights.
“Please tell me you’re going to see Kennedy,” she said as I passed her.
“Maybe.”
“Good, because I’m tired of moody Hunter.”