by Leah Spiegel
“What’s this?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He tossed down the sharpie and then strummed his black Gibson before smiling up at me.
“Okay, you’re smiling, so that’s a good thing?” I asked, popping another pineapple square in my mouth.
“A very good thing,” he assured me and began to sing, “Josephine…”
Suddenly my face burned. Judging by his big ole grin it was just the reaction he was hoping for.
“No, you’re doing this all wrong,” I said, trying to take the focus off of me.
“Why?” He tilted his head to look up at me with a worried expression.
“This sitting thing while singing.” I shook my head. “It’s all wrong, without the strut.” Taking my turn to enjoy the way my words affected him. The slight flush of embarrassment across his face was barely visible, but still counted.
“What is this strut you’re always talking about?” He knitted his eyebrows together while taking a sip of his coffee. “Here.” He handed me his Gibson. “Show me.” He leaned back with his arms on either side of the booth and gave me his undivided attention. He arched an eyebrow while causally waiting for me to show him. This was my first bit of stage fright, which would have been bad enough if it wasn’t for the fact that Hawkins also seemed to know it. Knew it and thoroughly enjoyed it.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.” He licked his lips before a devious smile crossed his face. “Feel liberated.”
“Doesn’t this guitar cost over a thousand dollars?” I heard a tremor in my voice.
“Yeah, sure,” he called my bluff. “I’ve got tons of them.” He smiled up at me. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, letting me know that an excuse wasn’t going to help me now.
“Fine.” Grabbing the damn thing out of his hands and swinging it over my shoulder, I was in full strut mode as I walked up and down the aisle while Hawkins laughed.
“I am the shit.” I nodded. “Bow down.” Meanwhile, I pretended to go to town on the guitar while Hawkins snickered. Dropping to my knees, I did the best guitar impression in my arsenal. Then I bit my lip for dramatic purposes while bobbing my head up and down. “That’s how it’s done, son.” I got up and swung the strap off my shoulder then passed the Gibson back to him.
“So you think that I should refrain from such dramatics?” he mused.
“Hell no,” I said. “I look forward to that strut every night.”
Apparently, the comment caught him off guard as he sat there staring at me. The cold glare I knew all too well, but not this smoldering, suggestive look he was giving me now. His eyes flickered back to the table in front of him. “You know,” he said quietly while folding the corner of a napkin. “You’re the first one to ever tell me that,” he confessed. “You’re the first to tell me a lot of things.”
Suddenly, I felt ashamed.
“I respect it,” he quickly added while looking up at me intently. “There’s no bullshit with you. It’s probably half the reason I became attracted.”
“Oh.” I felt my heart flutter. “And the other half?”
“You really have to ask?” he inquired earnestly with a slight comical inflection in his tone.
I didn’t have an answer for him so he continued, “Oh, okay, wow,” he exhaled loudly. “I started liking you,” his brow furrowed together, “about twenty-seven days ago.
“And,” he pointed, “you’re completely oblivious to all of it.” His eyes lit up as we watched each other for a few silent seconds.
“Oh.” I smiled.
“I’m not even going to ask you what you felt.” He smiled down at the table. “Anger, outrage,” he listed, “disgust.”
“No,” I interrupted him.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Not disgust,” I corrected him to which he laughed. It was deep and hearty and slowly becoming my most favorite sound.
“I’ll have to remember, that,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
“So what happens if I do start to like you?” I proposed. “I’ll just have the no bullshit thing going for me?”
“No, you’ll have me.” He looked up at me intently. “Now eat, I don’t want you to starve.”
But instead of eating, I saw his BlackBerry on the table and grabbed it up on a whim.
“What’s your password for your twitter account?”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.
“It’s not like you can’t change the password after I’m done.” I rolled my eyes.
“What are you going to do?” he asked hesitatingly.
“Have the last laugh with your record company.” I waggled my eyebrows deviously.
“I may have changed it to,” he cleared his throat, “Jack & Coke.”
“Nice.” I smiled.
“What are you going to write?” he asked curiously.
“Ohh, just what you should have written weeks ago,” I said lightly. “Lizzie,” I typed, “is beautiful, devastatingly beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” He snorted. “It makes me sound like a chick. How about sexy? Or has a nice rack?”
The side comment earned him a dirty look.
“I’m only kidding.” He laughed. “I just had to see your face.”
“Who,” I typed, “also has a nice rack.” I flashed him a smile.
“Nice,” he added approvingly. “So when do I get to write for your blog?”
“What do you mean?” My throat tightened.
“What’s your password? You know.” He gestured.
“Oh, I just thought…” I drifted off because I knew exactly what he meant.
“Just thought what?” He flashed his sexy sneer. “That you would tweet for me?”
“Yes.”
“What, are you scared that I might write something inappropriate or not be able to mimic your lovely writing style?” His eyes lit up.
“Hey, you said no jabs at my writing,” I reminded him.
“I just called it lovely,” he mused. “Now give me the password.”
“No, it’s just,” I hesitated.
“Just tell me,” he insisted in such a way that I knew he wouldn’t back down.
“Maybe I could type it in for you?”
“Where’s the faith?” he asked me. “You can just change it later,” he added mockingly.
“JoshuaThayer96,” I exhaled while feeling my stomach sink.
He just blinked at me for a couple seconds before he said, “My first name?”
“Yes.”
“And you hated me at the time you choose it?” He tilted his head to look up at me quizzically.
“I thought so, yes.” I kept my eyes on the ground.
“Oh.”
“So we’re good?” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, I mean, I think I can remember that one.” He tried to stifle a laugh, but it got the better of him and it came spurting out.
“Shut up!” I laughed. “It was the most inconspicuous one I could think of,” I lied. “I mean no one would have thought that was my password.”
“No, they certainly would not.” He nodded with a crooked little grin.
“So where are we?” I asked, looking out a nearby window while thinking, so I could crawl away and die somewhere.
“We haven’t left Atlanta, yet,” he explained. “I figured you wouldn’t accept a ride to Charleston.” He mockingly rolled his eyes.
“Oh shit, Riley.” I pulled out my cell phone. “I was supposed to text him last night about where to meet up.”
Hawkins took a sip of his coffee as I texted, “I’m so sorry! Where are you?”
“Target parking lot,” Riley texted back.
At the same time Hawkins asked, “Whose parking lot is it this time?”
“Target.” I giggled.
“Wow,” he said, widening his eyes. “And for a second there I was worried about your safety.”
“I’ll be okay.” I tried to ease
his fears.
“How can you be so sure?” A sudden troubled, disconcerting look crossed his face.
“You are the only one who can identify The Grimm Reaper in person.” He stopped to look up at me intently. “He has to be freaked out about that. You just can’t take that kind of risk by riding around in that van unprotected.”
The weight of what Hawkins was saying hit me. He had a point. Yet another more powerful emotion consumed me. Fear of losing my father’s van.
“I can’t just leave my van behind,” I told him. Hawkins seemed to understand that my mind was made up and didn’t push it.
“It doesn’t mean that I can’t have security stationed around the van at the venue like before,” Hawkins muttered. “In case he tries to jimmy it open when you guys are at the concert.”
“Now that makes me feel better.” I had to admit.
“I could also have someone tail you.” Hawkins’ cool exterior cracked for a second. “I mean not to stalk you, but just in case he follows you.”
“No, I understand.” I made light of the situation. “You would do it for anyone if it meant catching this guy, right?”
“Exactly.” He pointed a finger at me.
“It’s strategic.” I nodded while smiling.
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” He grinned. “I mean not that last night wasn’t superb.”
“Superb?”
“You know, hot, went well…superb.” His face slightly flushed.
“Wow, superb.” I smiled at him because I was not used to seeing Hawkins lose his cool.
“You know what? I’ll be right back.” He cleared his throat and got up. “I need to go get my driver.”
He passed me down the aisle for a much needed break while muttering to himself, “Superb?!” He exited the bus while I smiled from ear to ear. Glancing down at lyrics scattered across the table, I noticed that my name was written on one of the papers. I knew that I shouldn’t have been looking over his personal scribbling, but seeing my name, I couldn’t stop myself. Before I could read the lyrics, my phone went off in my pocket. Feeling guilty, I leaned back against the nearby counter again and pulled out my phone.
“So did you hook up with him?” Riley texted me.
“No, we stayed up and talked.”
“Ouch.”
“No, you moron!” I laughed while texting, “It was very nice.”
I was back to glancing down at the lyrics from the counter, when Hawkins came back up the steps with his driver right behind him. The bus suddenly started to move and it threw off my equilibrium. I was thrown a little off balance when Hawkins gently grabbed my arm and pulled me into him to steady me. He leaned me up against the counter to anchor me to the spot as the bus continued to twist and turn down the road. We were pressed up against each other again like last night. His eyes were searching mine before he kissed me. The rocking of the bus had our bodies thoroughly teased by the tantalizing motion. It was not long before Hawkins was guiding me down the hallway to his room.
He stripped off his t-shirt in between kissing me. My hands lingered over his broad shoulders then down the silky skin of his back. He broke away from the kiss and watched me with dazed eyes while I touched him. He was tugging at my shirt from below until it was up over my head. We were kissing passionately when the bus suddenly came to a stop. Hawkins ignored it as he gently thrust me down on to the bed with him when suddenly my phone went off again. “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” was blaring away in my pocket while I thought, damn it, girls do just want to have fun! So stop calling me!
I planned to ignore it, but the moment was thoroughly thrown off by an “ahem” at the door. Hawkins rolled off of me in frustration while I quickly grabbed my shirt and threw it back on. It was thoroughly embarrassing, but Hawkins only laughed as we got ourselves composed. He got up and opened the door.
“What is so important?” he asked the driver politely.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” The driver sounded truly embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Hawkins assured him.
“Security has been trying to reach you.”
“Thanks.” Hawkins sighed before he shut the door again.
“What the hell, you’d think my driver would be used to it by now,” he said jokingly.
“And for a second, I liked thinking I was the only random girl he’s caught you with.” I smirked while getting up from the bed.
“Hey, let’s not start assuming things again,” he warned while pointing a finger at me. “He’s just not used to seeing a girl the next day.”
“What, Jack and Coke didn’t make it to sunrise?”
“Just missed it,” he tisked. “Mind you, it was three or four in the morning, but you have the general idea.”
“Ah, huh.” I smiled before he leaned in and gave me a loving kiss.
“That’s my favorite t-shirt by the way.” He winked. Looking down, I gasped. In all the confusion, I had flung the once inside out t-shirt over my head without realizing that I put it on the right way this time. Hawkins’ face was across my chest.
I went to hike the thing up over my head when Hawkins stopped me. “No, leave it, I like it on you.” He cupped my face with my hair intertwined around the tips of his fingers. He hovered over my lips before he kissed me so passionately, we stumbled back into the door. A laugh escaped from my lips making us both smile.
“Alright, Mrs. Senator Johnson.” His soft lips pecked mine. “Daddy’s got to make a living.”
We walked out of his bedroom hand in hand down the aisle. Glancing out the window, I saw Riley leaning up against the van. Stopping midstride, Hawkins gently bumped into me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just giving Riley some time to breathe again.” I smirked as I looked out the tinted window. It wasn’t everyday Hawkins’ tour bus pulled up next to our little beat up van.
“At least he acts like a real fan,” Hawkins muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” he asked dramatically.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied before continuing to head down the aisle.
“Yeah, okay.” Hawkins laughed.
“Just humor him for me.”
Walking down the steps with Hawkins behind me, the sunlight from another warm summer day streamed down around us. Riley gave me a knowing smile, but it suddenly disappeared with the arrival of Hawkins by my side.
“I don’t think that we’ve been properly introduced.” Hawkins held out his hand for Riley. It took Riley a few seconds to adjust to the sudden shock he was obviously feeling as he slowly stretched out his hand in return. As Hawkins released Riley’s hand he added, “I heard that you’re a fan of Harlow’s work?”
Riley was speechless, but finally nodded to show some sign of life. Hawkins seemed used to this kind of reaction, though usually from girls. “Maybe I could introduce you to him? He’s a cool guy. Hell, he’ll probably even let you watch him work the lights one night…I mean if you want to?” Hawkins added.
Riley seemed unable to breathe.
“Riley.” I prompted him to come back down to earth.
“Yeah,” he exhaled. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” Hawkins said then turned to look at me. “Are you sure you don’t want ride with me in the bus? Riley could come, too,” he said, thickening the pot and Riley gasped beside me. Looking up at him, I gave him a knowingly devious glare. It was in that moment that I knew how truly stubborn we both were. He didn’t have any intention of making my decision to stay with the van any easier. That much was clear when he brought Riley into the mix. Riley, who obviously loved the prospect of riding on the tour bus with Hawkins, went silent and still next to me.
“No, we don’t want get in your way,” I returned. Besides, the idea of Riley walking in on us unexpectedly was more than I cared to think about.
“We’ll be fine,” I assured him. “So I’ll see you in Charleston?”
“Yeah.” He sm
iled mischievously at me. “I’ll be around.”
He waved at us before turning around to sing no louder than a whisper, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” Beaming, I slid into our van’s driver’s seat.
Riley got in quickly after and shouted at me, “Are you nuts!”
“What?”
“What? He…he,” he tried to finish, “that he said.”
“I’ll need a complete sentence.” I laughed while turning the key in the ignition. The van revved to life behind us.
“He offered us a ride in his bus!” Riley exclaimed while glancing over at the sleek purple bus. “And you said no!” he shouted hoarsely.
“Is this because you want to go?” I toyed with him while pretending to be serious. “I’m sure he’ll let you ride along. Why don’t you just go up and ask him?”
“Oh, because I’m so good at talking around the guy.” Riley held his arms out with exasperation and laughed.
“Have it your way,” I said with a small smile across my face while looking over my shoulder and putting the van in reverse. He sunk down in his seat, crossed his legs, and bounced one up and down while staring over at the bus. Pretty sure this was the most sulking I had ever seen Riley do.
Shifting the gears, I drove out of the Target parking lot and after stopping at another small road, I smiled, realizing that Hawkins’ tour bus was tagging behind us. As they came closer, I could see Hawkins leaning his arm along an upper banister while directing the driver.
“Is Lizzie coming with us today?” I asked him as we came to a stop at the light at the top of the hill. I needed to know if I had to pick her up, at least, after I decided whether I was willing to pick her up.
“Yeah, she still refuses to give Wayne her social,” he groaned.
“God,” I sighed. What was she thinking? She was much more protected with Warren than with us.
“Security is tight after the death of Jeff Monroe,” he mentioned. “And now that the stakes are higher, I heard The Grimm Reaper is threatening to blow up one of the band’s tour buses. I guess they’re taking extra precautions. The way Lizzie talks, I don’t think that Wayne is going to be asking next time.”