Rock My Bed
Page 37

Isaac opens his mouth to speak, but before he does I cut him off because he’s so predictable I know exactly what he’s going to say. “Everything’s fine. It’s Lanie. She’s missing Noel.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So she and Noel Falcon are…”
I sigh. Sometimes I let my loose lips get me into trouble, but the cat’s out of the bag now. I might as well answer the best I can. “She knew Noel growing up. They were high school sweethearts. They’re actually pretty, sickeningly-sweet.”
“You don’t think that’s romantic? Reuniting with a first love can be powerful thing.”
I grin. “That’s actually one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard a man say.”
He twists his lips and fights back a smile. “I try.”
I lean my elbow on the table and rest my cheek in my hand. Maybe there is something that can work about a nice guy. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have someone love you back just as much as you love them. I gaze into his clear blue eyes and wonder if I can be truly happy with a man like him. Would I miss the wild nights? He doesn’t look like he’s the type to spice things up too much in bed.
But is that the trade off? Love of a solid man equals the loss of amazing sex?
Isaac leans in a bit. “I like you, Aubrey, and want the chance to get to know you better. Would you go out on a real date with me sometime? No strings attached, just dinner.”
“Isn’t that against some sort of company policy?”
He shrugs. “I’m sure it is since I’m your direct boss, but we can keep things between us for a while and see how things go.”
He’s right. The fact that he’s my direct boss probably is a bad thing, but he doesn’t seem too concerned about it. If we start down this path and things don’t work I don’t know what that’ll mean for me, but I know that Isaac is a nice guy. He’d never try to start something if he wasn’t sure we’d work out. He’s too much of a planner to be spontaneous.
Dating him may be the change in my love life I need.
Chapter 12
RIFF
Aubrey’s response that she can’t be with me cuts deep. I fire back am instant message asking her why, but she doesn’t answer. The urge to fling my phone across the bus fills every inch of me. Why didn’t I see this coming? I’m a rotten bastard that deserves this misery, and I want to kick my own ass for allowing myself to feel things for this girl—to want more with her. She’s genuine, and that’s what I want.
Big Bertha rolls down the road, taking us to the next city on our tour. I hate being trapped on here at a time like this. More than anything I want to hop on my bike and drive for a few hours to try to clear my head.
I hate that I’m so fucked up that no one can stand to be around me long term.
“Fuck you, bitch. I got you!” Trip yells at the television as he smashes buttons on the game controller.
I shake my head. “What’s with you guys and video games?”
Tyke shrugs, but never removes his eyes from the screen as he fights his brother. “I could ask you the same thing about the Oreos.”
My shoulders tense. Oreos are special to me because of my sister, but that’s not something I share with anyone. The twins know all about my family and the trauma we went through, but that’s only because they knew me when it all happened. What I wouldn’t give to block out my past. It’s too fucking painful to think about. I don’t deserve to be alive, let alone have any happiness. Oreos and the happy memories of me and Hailey together tied to them are the only positives I allow myself.
When the game ends, Tyke gets up and grabs his notepad. “I’ve been working on some new lyrics. I want you guys to tell me what you think.”
“I’m down,” Trip says.
I close up the cookies and push them aside, eager to work on some music. After I grab my Gibson from the front of the bus, I sit down on the love seat glad to have something to occupy my mind.
“Okay, the beat goes a little something like this.” Tyke slaps the table in front of him to a steady beat. “And I’m thinking the bass sounds raunchy.”
He starts making low-pitched noises with his mouth while keeping time on the table. I close my eyes and allow the melody to fill me. It’s a dirty beat and my fingers glide over the threads as the vision of the cords I need to play flood my brain.
Like every other time we write a song, I strum the first notes that come to mind. We play it through for a couple minutes and Trip sits down and takes over the drum beat and we start again, only this time I open my mouth sign the lyrics on Tyke’s paper. The parts he still needs to write I improvise with a little humming.
“Through the rain cloud—there you were…hmmmm, hmmm, hmm,” I sing.
Trip nods his head. “Yeah, I like it.”
We run through it a few more times, each time getting it tuned finer. “It’s great, man. The bones are solid.”
Tykes grins. “Thanks, bro. You know how it is when I write. I never know until we start putting it together if it’s going to work or not.”
I roll my eyes—always the self-doubter. “I think you got something with this one.”
We wrap up our jam session and Lanie opens the door and makes her way down the hallway. Her hair is a little frizzy from sleep and she squints at the bright lights.
I glance over at the clock. Damn. It’s nearly four in the morning. She’s probably pissed we woke her up.