But I didn’t say no, and now I’m stuck in this bet where if Camryn wins, I have to give her an hour-long massage for three straight nights. An hour is a long time for a massage. I can already feel my arms going limp just thinking about it.
The older woman answers Camryn, “No, he’s not bothering us at all, sweetie.” She looks me up and down like she wants to strip me naked and lick me, propping her chin on her enclosed, upright hands. “He can stay here for as long as he likes. Where is your boss?”
“He’s somewhere around here,” Camryn says. “Just look for the big guy in the company shirt. His name is German.”
“Thank you, doll,” the woman says and looks back at me.
That one, I admit, kind of scares me. And since she seems to be the leader of their pack, I decide I need to move on before she really thinks I’m that into her and I’m the one needing Camryn’s help to get me out of the mess I started.
“Have a great night, ladies,” I say with an inviting smile and then I turn to walk away.
I feel a hand slide into my apron pocket. I stop and look down as the woman’s hand moves away. She’s gazing up at me with that famous horny look.
“You too, sugar,” she says.
I wink at her and smile at the other three as I casually walk away. When I make it into the kitchen, I empty my tub and then reach into my pocket and pull out three twenty-dollar bills.
Hell yeah, maybe that bet wasn’t so ridiculous, after all.
Two hours later…
Yeah, the bet was ridiculous.
“Two forty, forty-one, forty-six, fifty-six.” Camryn keeps counting her tips now that our short shift is over. She smirks and adds, “And how much did you get?”
I’m trying to keep a straight face to make my disappointment seem somewhat genuine, but she’s not making it easy. So I pull out my money, count it again, and answer, “Eighty-two dollars.”
“Well, that’s not bad for a busboy, I have to give it to you,” she says, pocketing her cash.
“Give it to me how?” I ask as I untie the apron and take it off. “You’re letting me out of the bet?”
“Pfft! No way,” she says.
German comes up behind us.
“You two betta be good,” he says. “An’ none o’that rap stuff or dem fancy new-age songs.” He snaps his fingers rapidly as if he’s trying to name an example, but then he just gives up. “This ain’t no ’Merican Idol.”
“Understood,” Camryn says with that sweet smile of hers.
German, with a big dopey grin on his face, snaps out of her spell, and as he walks away he snarls at me as he passes. It’s better than him looking at me the way he looks at Camryn, so I’m not complaining.
I turn to Camryn. “Don’t be nervous.” I take her hands into mine. “Like I said, you’re going to kick ass out there.”
She nods nervously. Then she lets a quick burst of air move through her little rounded lips and inhales a deep breath.
“I’ll run out and get the guitar while you get ready,” I say.
“All right,” she says.
I kiss her on the lips and head outside to the car where the electric guitar she bought me for my birthday is hiding in the trunk. “Edge of Seventeen” may be her solo, but the guitar riff itself is so well-known that I’m almost as nervous as she is about performing it. OK, maybe not so much as nervous—it’s a fairly easy song to play. What has me a little on edge is screwing it up for her. She’s the only reason I feel any kind of pressure about tonight’s performance.
I walk up onto the stage to find the drummer, Leif, who we met yesterday, getting set up. “Thanks for doing this, man,” I say to him.
“Hey, no problem,” Leif says. “I’ve played this song a number of times at a bar in Georgia I used to work at a few years ago.”
Camryn was happy to find a drummer who knows the song. She was prepared for it to be just the two of us, knowing it wouldn’t sound the same without the drums, too. But when we met Leif yesterday during her waitress training and he agreed to play with us tonight, I think Camryn’s confidence level shot up a few notches.
I slip the guitar strap over my shoulder just as Camryn steps onto the stage.
She walks right up to me, and I lean in toward her ear and say, “You look hot.”
She blushes and looks down at her clothes. She changed out of that cute black top she was wearing and replaced it with another black silky top that hangs low in the back, exposing her skin almost to her waist. The necklace I bought for her dangles in the front, shining against the black. And she let her hair down. I love the braid she always wears, but I have to say, she’s a whole other level of sexy with that long, soft blonde hair falling all about her shoulders.
The voices in the bar carry through the large space, loud even over Leif messing around with the bass drum behind us. All of the tables on the floor are full, as well as the booths lining the back wall. My four “girlfriends” are still here and have migrated from their booth to a table closer to the stage. They seem intrigued that I went from busboy to guitar player. Normally, I would be scanning the audience for my “victim” of the night by now, but tonight is different and there won’t be any of that from either one of us. Camryn’s too nervous and focused to try pulling off our usual.
After we finally get set up and are ready to begin, Camryn holds her breath for a moment and looks over at me.
I wait for her to give me the go, and when I see her nod I start to play, and all eyes in the room turn to us. That guitar riff always manages to turn heads in a crowded room. And Camryn, the second she starts to sing, she does like I always do and becomes someone completely different, so much so that it stuns me. She owns it. It’s so unlike how she has been during every one of our practices together. Confidence and sexiness exudes from every line in the song and every movement she makes and my entire body reacts to it.
“Ooo, baby, ooo, ooo!” I join in with the chorus.
But everybody’s looking at her, even my four girlfriends, who I know at first moved closer to check me out. No, they now belong to Camryn for the most part, and it makes me proud.
Before the first verse is even over, the dance floor is packed with bodies. The power and sex in Camryn’s voice mixed with the fascination everyone has for her performance sends me over the edge, and I hammer out that riff with more devotion than before.
“Ooo, baby, ooo, ooo!”
Every few seconds I hear a voice scream in the background: “Wooooo!” and again, each time Camryn hits a moving note.
And I can’t get enough.
I sing my heart out along with her to the next two choruses, and I know the fourth verse that she always got tripped up on is next. I look over, still moving my pick fast over the strings, my back arched, and I don’t see a nervous muscle in her face. She’s got this; I can tell by looking at her that there’s no way she’s going to screw it up.
And then the words come and go so fast and flawlessly from her lips that I feel my face stretched to its limits with a smile as I follow loudly into the next chorus line with her.
Damn, my baby owns this song. Look out, Stevie Nicks!
Passing the middle of the song, Camryn sings: Oooo! And her voice fades in that ominous part of the song which allows her voice a short rest.
But the guitar riff goes on and on. It’s exhausting, but my fingers never stop, never miss a beat.
Camryn and I look at each other and share a moment. Then she starts singing again, and I join in where I’m supposed to.
She sings on, both of her hands come up to grip the microphone stand, her eyes shut as she belts out with so much emotion, “Yeah! Yeah!”
Then she looks right at me again and keeps her eyes trained on mine while she belts out the next verse as if she’s singing solely for me.
Shivers run up my spine. I grin and fall back into the guitar until the song is over.
The audience erupts with shouts and screams. Camryn takes a bow first, and then I follow. She
’s smiling so hugely as she looks out at the crowd, and it kind of chokes me up a little inside.
Keeping the guitar strapped around my body, I push it behind my back and walk right over to her, then lift her off the floor and into my arms. There are whistles and shouts all around us, but all I really notice is Camryn looking back at me. I kiss her deeply, and the crowd whistles and shouts even louder.
Before the night is over, we end up playing a full ten-song gig to a growing crowd as the hours wear on. We go back to sing some of our favorites: “Barton Hollow,” “Hotel California,” and “Birds of a Feather,” among others, and each song seems to please the audience as much as the previous one. I don’t do a solo tonight, even though at one point Camryn asks me to. This was her night and only her night. I refused to be the center of attention even for one song.
We make it back to our hotel by two in the morning, and I’m gladly paying up on the bet I lost.
27
“German seems to think we’re going to be here for a while,” I say with the right side of my face pressed into the mattress. “I told him it was only temporary.”
Andrew’s magical hands knead both sides of my back from my shoulders down to my waist, and I’m putty in his hands. I just lay here and soak up this massage as if I’ve never had one before. I can hardly open my eyes. He sits on top of my nearly naked body, straddling my waist.
“Yeah, he pulled me off to the side once and asked me what time we were going to play tomorrow night.” Andrew chuckles and presses the tips of all ten fingers deeply into my flesh and moves his hands in a solid circular motion.
I moan underneath him.
“We can stay for a few more days,” he says, “but I think we should move on soon.”
“I agree. Besides, the mosquitos in Mobile are horrendous! Did you see the apocalyptic swarm around the light poles after we left tonight?”
Andrew ignores the question and says, “You really did awesome tonight. I knew you’d do great, but I have to say, I didn’t expect that.”
I finally open my eyes and peer off toward the window. “What exactly?” I ask.
His hands never stop kneading my back. “You got up on that stage and just owned it. You have a natural-born talent.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “But I am proud of myself. I don’t know what came over me, really. I just shed the nervous feeling in my gut and went with it.”
“Well, it worked,” he says.
“Only because you were there with me,” I say.
We remain silent for several minutes, my eyes closed again as his massage gradually threatens to send me into dreamland. The blood around my eyes feels light; my entire head tingles, and the back of my neck shivers when he works his fingertips into my scalp.
Before his full hour is over with, I start to feel bad for making him do it so long that I open my eyes and say, “If you’re tired, you can stop.”
And when he doesn’t stop, I make him stop by turning around and lying on my back. He lies on top of me and kisses me lightly on the lips. And we stare at each other for a moment, searching each other’s eyes, studying each other’s lips. I feel him pressing into my body below, and his mouth closes over mine in a passionate kiss as he begins to make love to me.
28
We’re on the road again, somewhere on a highway between Gulfport, Mississippi, and New Orleans. The day is perfect, with clear blue skies and just the right amount of heat so that we can still ride with the windows down and not feel the need to turn on the AC in the car. Camryn is driving and I’m kicked back on the passenger’s side, a lot like she usually is, with one foot hanging out the window.
We stayed in Mobile for a week and paid for our hotel room, all of our food, and the gas in the car with just a fraction of the cash we scored performing and Camryn’s tips from waitressing. My busboy tips were just a drop in the bucket compared to hers.
My cell phone buzzes around in the pocket of my black cargo shorts, and I answer it. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
She tells me how much she misses me and goes right into questions about my check-ups.
“No, I’ve been getting checked out,” I say. “Yeah, I got a scan not long ago at a hospital in—No, they just called in to Dr. Marsters for my info and—Yes, Mom. I know. I’m being careful.” I glance over at Camryn, who is smiling back at me. “Camryn won’t let me get away with not going. Yeah. Well, right now we’re on our way to New Orleans. I don’t know how long we’re staying there, but after we leave we’ll swing by home for a visit, all right?”
After I hang up with her, Camryn asks, “Texas?”
Instantly, I get the feeling she’s having the same thoughts she did during our first road trip, but she proves me wrong when she says, “Not that I have any problem with it. Just curious about the destination.” She smiles, and I can tell right away that she’s not hiding anything.
“Texas doesn’t worry you?” I ask.
She looks back at the road as we go around a curve, then she glances over at me again. “Not at all. Not like it used to.”
“What changed your mind?” I pull my foot from the window and turn to better face her, intrigued by her change of heart.
“Because things are different now,” she says. “But in a good way. Andrew, last July was tough. For both of us. I don’t know how I know, but I think I knew all along that something bad was going to happen when we got to Texas. For a while I thought it was all just me worried about it being the last stop on our road trip. But I’m not so sure about that anymore. I feel like I knew…”
I smile slimly. “I think I understand,” I say. “So then that leads me to one question.”
She looks at me, waiting.
“Will we ever settle down?”
Her reaction isn’t what I expected it to be. I expected her smile to fade and the moment to be lost, but instead her eyes brighten, and I feel a sense of calm emanating from her.
“Eventually,” she says. “But not yet.” She looks back at the road and continues, “Y’know, Andrew, I want to see Italy one day. Rome. Sorrento. Maybe not right now or even in the next five years, but I hope to see it. France, too. London. I would even love to go to Jamaica and Mexico and Brazil.”
“Really? It would take a long time to see those places,” I say, but not in a way to deter her from wanting to do it. I would love to do it, too.
The wind from the open window brushes through her hair, pulling more loose strands from her braid as they dance around her bright face.
“I feel free with you,” she says. “I feel like I can do anything. Go anywhere. Be anything that I want.” Her eyes fall on me once more and she says, “We’ll settle down soon, but I never want to settle down forever. Does that make sense?”
“Definitely,” I answer. “I couldn’t have said it better.”
We make it over the Louisiana state line just after dark, and Camryn pulls over to the side of the highway.
“I don’t think I can drive anymore,” she says, stretching her arms behind her and yawning.
“I told you an hour ago you needed to let me drive.”
“Yeah, well I’m letting you now.” She gets cranky when she’s tired.
We both get out of the car to switch sides but stop when we meet each other at the hood.
“Do you see where we are?” I ask.
Camryn looks around on both sides of the desolate highway. She shrugs. “Ummm, the middle of nowhere?”
I laugh lightly under my breath and then point to the field. Then I point up at the stars. “Last time didn’t count, remember?”
Her eyes light up, but then I sense she’s conflicted. It doesn’t take me long to figure out why.
“It’s a flat, clear field. And there are no cows as far as I can tell,” I say.
I know that absolutely nothing I just said makes her feel any better about the possibility of snakes, but I was going for subtle and stupid, hoping she’d overlook it.
“What about snakes?�
�� she asks, not overlooking it.
“Don’t let your fear of snakes ruin a perfectly good opportunity to finally get to sleep underneath the stars.”
She narrows her eyes at me.
I break out the big guns and just beg. “Please? Preeeety please?” I wonder if my attempt at puppy-dog eyes is as effective on her as hers always are on me. My first instinct was to throw her ass over my shoulder and carry her out there, but I’m curious about the effectiveness of my begging technique, just the same.
She mulls it over for a minute and finally caves to my charm. “All right,” she says a little exasperatedly.
I grab the blanket from the trunk, and we walk together through the ditch and over the low fence and then through the enormous field until we find a good spot several yards out. It feels like déjà vu. I lay the blanket on the dried grass and do a quick snake-check of the surrounding area just to make her feel better. We lay down next to each other on our backs, legs straight out and flat against the blanket, our ankles crossed below. And we look up at the dark and endless expanse of sky filled with stars. Camryn points out various constellations and planets, explaining each one to me in detail, and I’m impressed by how much she knows and how she can tell them apart from one another.
“I never imagined you’d be so…” I struggle to find the way to word it.
“So knowledgeable?” I can sense her smiling briefly next to me.
“Well, I… I didn’t mean that I think you’re—”
“A brainless, superficial girl who doesn’t know that the Milky Way is something bigger than a candy bar or that the big bang theory isn’t just a television show?”
“Yeah, something like that,” I say, just to play her at her own game. “No, but really, where’d all this come from? I guess I just never took you for the scientific type.”
“I wanted to be an astrophysicist. Decided that when I was twelve, I think.”
I’m completely shocked by her admission, but I continue to stare up at the stars with her, my smile growing.
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