Kiss Me Goodnight

by Michele Zurlo

  We did not have sex.

  We also waited until the last morning to have that serious discussion about where our relationship was headed.

  We’d stayed up late the night before, talking about tons of different things, and we’d slept in until the need for the bathroom had forced him from the bed. My bladder bowed under the power of my need for fifteen more minutes of sleep.

  When I did drag my ass from beneath the covers, I found him eating breakfast. I’d cleared out a second spot at my table/desk for him to use. I think he liked having this evidence that I didn’t entertain men at my apartment. He enjoyed reading the newspaper on his tablet while he ate, and I found that habit annoying, so he’d learned to set it aside when I was with him.

  The moment I sat down with my bowl of oatmeal, he shut down his tablet and kissed my cheek. “Good morning. You’re looking exceptionally lovely today.”

  I glanced down at my body to see what might have triggered that comment. My boobs weren’t showing, but I was wearing a pair of pale gray yoga pants. My ass had probably earned that compliment.

  “Thanks. Did you want to talk about where our relationship is headed, or are we going to let that topic alone for at least one more date?” No sense beating around the bush when I could shock him awake faster than coffee.

  He laughed and broke his toasted bagel in half. I liked that he didn’t seem to feel defensive. I hated having to couch my questions and comments all the time.

  “We can talk. Did you want to start?”

  I shook my head. “No. You’re better at this. You go first.”

  He cleared his throat, but not in an attempt to put anything off. The man put peanut butter on his bagel—that stuff was sticky. He took a swig of hot coffee to wash it down. “We’ve been on four dates.”

  I liked that he didn’t count staying with me for four days as a date. He’d taken me, John, and Mom out to dinner the night after he’d arrived. Sharing a meal with my parents also did not count as a date, and he recognized that fact as well. Last night he took just me to a fancy restaurant, and then we spent some time throwing money away at a casino. That counted as a date.

  “I think they’ve gone pretty well. I like spending time with you, and you seem to like spending time with me.”

  “Oh, yes.” I didn’t curb my enthusiasm. I did like spending time with him.

  “I don’t think we’re to the part where either of us has fallen in love yet.”

  “No. We’re definitely not there yet.” I also liked how he included a qualification, as though he expected it to happen in the future.

  He laughed. “I love that you aren’t offended by my honest assessment. You’re an amazing woman, Lacey. Confident, intelligent, tenacious, beautiful—the complete package.”

  My package came with a few serious defects that no recall could fix. One of those was a deep suspicion of so many compliments. “Are you seeing someone else?”

  “Nope. I’ve been on a few dates since I’ve been seeing you, but nobody twice, and nobody since the time you came out to Boston and met some of my friends.” He wiped his fingers on his napkin before closing his hand over mine. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

  I shook my head. Dylan was nowhere near my radar.

  He ran his thumb along my wrist. “Neither of us is seeing anybody else. I propose we keep it that way.”

  “I second that emotion.”

  He grinned in acknowledgment of my lame joke. “Motion carried. We are now officially a couple. You may start referring to me as your boyfriend.”

  I slid the short distance from my chair to his lap, and he closed his arms around me. “Okay, but I still want to wait until the sixth date to sleep together.”

  He cupped my cheek and guided my face to his. “Whatever you want, honey.” Then he kissed me. It was deep and absolute, a display of possession and dominance I never would have expected from Thomas. I thoroughly approved.

  An hour later, Thomas had dressed and packed, and I helped him carry his things to my car. We’d returned his rental the day before, after he’d completed his last meeting. I offered to shuttle him to the airport so I could see him off with a proper goodbye kiss.

  As we loaded his suitcase in the trunk, I noticed Dylan standing next to his car, staring in our direction.

  Thomas noticed him too. “Did you know he was coming?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t talked to him since last weekend. You were there.”

  He made a doubtful sound. “You didn’t say a word to him.” Nodding in Dylan’s direction, he continued, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  The idea that I would let him fight my battles struck me as hilarious. After I finished laughing, I answered him. “Thank you, but I got this one.” I tossed him my keys. “Give me a minute to see what he wants.”

  “All right, but know that I’m here if you need me.”

  I didn’t tell him to start the car in case I assaulted Dylan again and we had to run, but I laughed again at the thought. That’s why I had a smile on my face when I made it to where Dylan waited.

  Do I even need to tell you how amazing he looked? It galled me that I still noticed after he’d been such a douchebag. And I was officially Thomas’s girlfriend. I should not be admiring other men.

  He fidgeted as I stopped in front of him, crossing and uncrossing his arms several times before deciding to let them dangle at his sides. “Hey, Lacey. I came by to apologize. I didn’t realize you still had company.”

  Pain flashed through his face, but not so quickly I couldn’t catch it. I felt sorry for him, sorry for the opportunities we’d both missed.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry. I wrote that song because I was pissed off that you wouldn’t listen to me. Then I was pissed off at myself for hurting you.” He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he kept his gaze down. “Sunday night, after I got over myself, I watched you and him together. You’re right; he makes you happy. You deserve to be happy. I want that for you.”

  I wanted it for myself, but I let him have his apology. Everything else aside, he’d become one of my closest friends. The anger billowing my sails went slack, and my fury drained away.

  “Thank you. This apology means a lot to me.”

  He lifted his eyes and ventured a small smile. “Enough to revoke your resignation?”

  I stiffened. “Are you here because Daisy, Gavin, or Levi made you come?”

  “No. Nobody knows I’m here. Please, Lacey. I don’t want to lose your friendship. I can’t imagine not having you in my life. These past couple of weeks have been hell.”

  Yes, they certainly had. I nodded, not sure whether I was agreeing to renew our friendship or manage the band. I opted for the safer choice. “I miss your friendship too.”

  Dylan wasn’t going to let the other matter lie. I didn’t blame him. “What about coming back as our manager? We need you, Lace. We really need you.”

  Again I nodded. “Okay, but I will never like that song.”

  “Do you want us to stop playing it? Because we will.”

  Yes. I very much wanted that. However, I couldn’t be selfish, not if we were going to make this friendship work. The whole idea of being called the wrong name would eventually be something we laughed about. “No. That’s the song people seem to like the most. Thomas loves it. Even after I told him why I hated it, he said it was his favorite.”

  Dylan’s chuckle communicated his discomfort with the topic of Thomas, or maybe with the fact that I’d been so honest with Thomas. “Still, we’ll stop if you want.”

  My heart would eventually harden against the sharp pangs that song induced. Until then, I would rely on my business sense. It tingled, telling me “Wrong Name” would be their first breakout hit. Yes, I had faith that Kiss Me Goodnight would soon become a household name. It’s what drove me to pester people until the band got the appearances they needed.

  I sighed. “No. Don’t get rid of it. But for Pete’s sake, you need backing vocals. I’m not kidding
, Dylan. We’re talking about the difference between people liking KMG and loving it.”

  He saluted me. “Aye, aye, captain. I will inform Gavin and Levi that they have no choice. If they want you back, they’re going to have to contribute vocals.”

  It was a good way around their reluctance to participate. I shrugged. “You have a show Friday night. We’ll have a meeting this afternoon to discuss your set list.”

  Dylan lifted his chin in Thomas’s direction. “Are you sure you’re free this afternoon?”

  “I’m taking Thomas to the airport. He’s heading home today. I have some work to do for my other job, and then I’ll stop by Daisy’s house.”

  That seemed to satisfy him, though not completely. Dylan was definitely holding his tongue, which was fine with me. Bald honesty is not always in everybody’s best interest.

  When I returned to Thomas, he regarded me warily. “He hugged you. Looks like you made up.”

  “We’re friends again, and I’ve agreed to stay with the band for now.”

  “Have you?” He frowned.

  I was surprised at his reaction. “That’s what you told me to do. Since Dylan came here to apologize, I can stay at a job I love, and I saved face. Plus, I’m finally going to get Levi and Gavin to sing. They need backing vocals.”

  Thomas sighed. “Remind me never to piss you off. You’re one hell of a negotiator. Did you get a higher percentage?”

  I hadn’t asked for one. I threw him my version of a sexy grin. “Next time.”

  “Next time? You plan to fight with Dylan often?”

  I shook my head and pulled out of my parking space. “Dylan and I don’t fight often. That was our first real disagreement.”

  Thomas didn’t say anything to that, and I wasn’t sure if he shifted uncomfortably or just needed to adjust the placement of his balls. I wondered what he looked like naked. Then I wondered what Dylan looked like, and I shut off that part of my mind. I would eventually train myself not to skip over to Dylan anytime I thought about sex.

  I laced my fingers in Thomas’s. “I’m going to miss you. I’ve never had a four-night sleepover before. I like having you around.”

  Everything I said was the truth, yet it felt a little like a lie.

  Two weeks later, after Thomas took me to San Francisco (which he combined with a business trip) for our fifth date, Kiss Me Goodnight reached the milestone of ten thousand paid downloads. And their illegal downloads had gone viral, which didn’t bother me. When Levi complained, I reminded him people don’t download songs they don’t like.

  Dylan wrote songs like crazy, producing lyrics to one or two new ones every day. “Wrong Name” was picked up by satellite radio and featured on their college and alternative stations.

  I kept busy working my two jobs. In addition to booking shows, I was responsible for the upkeep of KMG’s website and social media pages. Daisy and Gavin enjoyed posting status updates and tweets, so I let them have at it, but I did monitor them, and I handled the “official business” postings.

  John was doing better. He and my mom had established a routine of daily exercise, and they glowed with health. They also seemed more romantic around each other. My mom had booked a second honeymoon in Hawaii, a place they’d always wanted to visit.

  Daisy quit her waitressing job. Dylan cut back on the number of patients he saw. Gavin took a leave of absence, and Levi maxed out his vacation days.

  We were to have a meeting today, as it’s Thursday and we’ve formed a habit of meeting every week. Daisy’s parents had long ago soundproofed a room in the basement for her to practice the drums, and that’s where the magic happened.

  I walked in at the end of band practice. They were finishing up a new song.

  I know you’re thinking of me

  In bed

  When he’s making you scream

  And you’re biting your lip

  To keep

  From shouting my name.

  You say you love him

  But I know you’re lying.

  I broke your heart

  And you wish he was me

  The melody was one of those deceptively happy ones. Dylan liked songs where the lyrics were counter to the tone. He loved that The Cure’s love songs sounded fatalistic but weren’t, and he was infatuated with sixties pop songs that sounded like a celebration of love but were instead about heartbreak.

  I was just happy he’d channeled his moodiness into something creative and seemed content to leave me alone. The manager parts of me heard gold in the song.

  I clapped as they finished. “That one’s a keeper.”

  Dylan smiled shyly as he stowed his guitar on its stand. “Thanks. It’s not quite done. We’re tightening up the sound.”

  The room had a long sofa shoved against one wall, which was piled high with papers and clothes. I moved enough of the mess to sit down and pulled notes from my binder. I gave them a few moments to get themselves settled, and I called the meeting to order.

  “First, I’ve arranged a tour for you. You’ll be the opening act for the East Coast leg. There are seventeen dates that span from December to February. I didn’t want to commit you to a nationwide tour because we simply don’t have the money to pay for transportation and things like that.”

  Levi stared at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look. I handed him a sheet with the tour dates printed on it. He didn’t look. “Lacey, I’m going to have to quit my job. What happens if this dries up? It doesn’t pay as well as my day job. I’m screwed. I’m completely screwed.”

  I regarded him stoically. The better I got to know Levi, the more I realized how badly he reacted to anxiety. “You’re twenty-five years old. Move in with Gavin. Or your parents. It’s time to commit to this one hundred percent. Don’t freak on me. The items on the agenda only get better.”

  “How?” Gavin did his best to change the subject. We all wanted to avoid a pity-party/rant-fest courtesy of Levi and his fears of financial insolvency.

  I glanced at Dylan. He’d perched his ass on a low stool, and he drummed his fingers on his thighs, his concentration focused on the wall to his left. This would get his attention. “You’re opening for AFI.”

  Yep. He froze, then regarded me wondrously. “You’re shitting me.”

  The grin on my face assured him I was not. “They’ve heard your music, and they love it. Davey is a huge fan.”

  It was weird to say his name out loud with people in the room. I’d whispered/moaned it in the privacy of my bedroom often enough. I couldn’t believe I was going to meet the man for whom I’d named my vibrator. Holy cow, what if he was a jerk and meeting him ruined my fantasies forever? I’m not sure I could survive it. I mean, I still had Jared and Simon, but they weren’t Davey.

  The silence in the room testified to the level of shock. This was a band they idolized.

  “Lacey,” Gavin said, “I want to kiss you.”

  Dylan shot him a black look. “She has a boyfriend.”

  Daisy laughed. “He was kidding.”

  Not wanting to continue down this road, I resumed the discussion. “Also, you have inquiries from three recording companies. Do you have a preference for who you want to meet and when? Or do you want to go indie and cut the tracks yourself?”

  I outlined the companies and my research on each. The meeting went on for another hour, falling apart when Monty arrived from track practice. He was starving, and Daisy wanted to have dinner ready when Audra got home.

  We hadn’t resolved anything. I felt like making an executive decision, but I couldn’t. Whether to go with an established company or go it alone wasn’t a choice I could make for them. My job was to manage the choices they made.

  Dylan walked me outside. Our relationship had changed a lot in the last couple weeks since we’d established a safe, neutral zone, and our friendship flourished. “Gavin and I are taking Monty bowling tonight. Want to come?”

  I threw my bag into the backseat of my car. “I haven’t been bowling in foreve
r. I suck.”

  He shrugged. “On a good day, I can bowl a one-forty. I’m no pro bowler either. It’s just for fun. Monty’s going to kick all our asses anyway.”

  “Can Luma come? I’m supposed to hang out with her tonight.” I knew Luma wouldn’t mind bowling with the guys. I suspected she was developing a crush on Gavin. She still said she only liked African-American men, but I didn’t believe her.

  “Sure. Thomas isn’t in town?”

  I shook my head. We had our sixth date scheduled for this weekend, and I was nervous as hell about sleeping with him. I hadn’t been with a real man in more than two years.

  “I’ll see him Saturday. He’s flying me to Hartford.” I’d see his house for the first time. Opening the driver’s side door, I threw my purse across to the passenger side. The seat was littered with junk from both jobs. “I’ll call Luma. Text me the when and where, and I’ll see you there.”

  Dylan grinned and held the door while I got inside. “Rhymes like that are why I write the lyrics.”

  As I drove away, I reflected on how much I liked the way our relationship had changed. Undercurrents of “what if” were gone. I no longer wondered if he was going to kiss me or make a move. I knew he wouldn’t, though I wasn’t always so sure about myself. The electricity between us hadn’t lessened, but I was a champion at ignoring it.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regularly check him out, though. I couldn’t help it. When that much hotness is thrust into your face, I dare you not to look.

  Chapter Fifteen

  WHEN LUMA AND I ARRIVED at the designated place, we immediately got lost. The bowling alley I’d been to a handful of times growing up had eighteen lanes. This one boasted two hundred, and they were all in full swing. The place smelled of leather and sweat, and it was jam-packed with people.

  Dylan finally found us near the entrance and led us to a counter where a woman with exactly one tooth in her lower jaw asked for my shoe size. Or at least, I think that’s what she wanted. After deciding I wasn’t sure, I asked, “What?”

  The song blaring over the loudspeaker was temporarily suspended while someone at the grill informed lane 157 that their chili dogs were ready for pickup.