Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It sounds weird coming from you.”
I didn’t argue, a true sign I was out of sorts. “Okay.”
Ky reached for my chin and held my gaze for a moment. “Hey, Char…shit happens. There are other labels. We’re a kickass band. We’re gonna find the right fit.”
“They were perfect,” I mumbled.
“No. They were the first ones you got excited about. It’s like your first lay. You get all dressed up, wear cologne, stress about your hair and your clothes even though you hope they’re gonna get messed up. You choose a fancy restaurant, spend more money than you should, and try not to sweat when the bill comes. Then you go back to your place and you talk, you lose your clothes, you kiss, you fuck, and it’s just…meh. You connect, but not really.” Ky flattened his hand and wiggled his fingers in a universal mediocre signal. “All that fuckin’ buildup for nothing. But not really. You learn something new every time. Sometimes it’s physical, sometimes it’s mental. You just gotta keep showing up and paying attention.”
“My first time sucked,” I agreed.
“See? I know what I’m talking about.” He cocked his head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Hey, what are you doing? You can’t just sit here all night feeling sorry for yourself, you know.”
I quirked my lips wanly and sighed. “I don’t feel sorry for myself. I’m having a quarter-life crisis. It’s been coming on for weeks. I think it finally hit. I’m a disaster. I need a new career, stat. I’ll look into the army in the morning.”
Ky busted up laughing. “Yeah, let me know how that goes, drama queen. Back in the real world, I’m still waiting for your answer.”
“What’s the question?”
He slapped his hand against his forehead and groaned. “I need a ride to BJ’s to meet Mona. Can you take me?”
I stared at him for a long moment. “Did you say BJ? You know it’s going to be difficult to give a blowjob if I’m the one driving. Hand job might be doable.”
“And he’s back,” he said sounding like a game show host.
I snickered in spite of my crappy mood. “Where is BJ-town? This sounds like something I should know.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s off Wilshire…a ten-minute drive, tops.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Ky held out his hand for a high five. When I ignored it, he grabbed my wrist and smacked my palm against his before hooking his arm with mine. Then he moved the curtain aside and gestured for me to go first. I gave him an imperious once-over before sailing ahead of him with my shoulders back in a confident gait that in no way reflected how I was really feeling.
* * *
Side street traffic in LA could be unpredictable, but it was almost always better than chancing the 405 or a major thoroughfare like Wilshire Boulevard at eight p.m. on a Saturday night. I cut down a quiet residential street in Beverly Hills to avoid slower-moving vehicles. I didn’t take the twenty thousand stop signs and speed bumps along that stretch into account. Ky shot a deadpan glance at me when I turned onto Wilshire again.
“Hey, that was an exciting detour of a darkened city neighborhood, but I was kind of hoping to get there before midnight,” he snarked.
I raised my brow as I adjusted the volume on the Metallica classic blaring through my speakers. “Keep your pants on, Ky. Tell your gal pal we’re almost there. I think.”
“Mona isn’t my gal pal,” he huffed with a half laugh before humming softly to “Unforgiven.”
“Is she an ex?” I prodded, quickly adding, “I know it’s none of my business, but I really can’t listen to the voices in my head, so just…humor me. Tell me about Mona or your favorite brand of shampoo or what you’re doing tomorrow. Anything. Please.”
“Dude, you’ve got to chill.”
“I can’t…chill. Tonight was a disaster and it’s my fault.”
“Oh brother,” he groused. “Trust me, Char. In the grand scheme, tonight was an annoying blip. At worst, it’s a wake-up call to look out for the competition. Stop fuckin’ with your own head.”
“I can’t. It’s what I do. So…who’s Mona?”
“My dad’s wife.”
“Ah. The stepmom.”
“No. I don’t call her that. She’s just my father’s wife.”
“Got it. You don’t like her.”
“I don’t know her,” he replied brusquely.
“Then why meet her for a second dinner on a Saturday night?”
“Why are you interrogating me?”
“I’m not! I…” I held my hand up and clenched my jaw irritably before turning up the music. “Fine. Let’s not talk.”
Ky leaned forward to turn the volume down again with a theatric sigh. “I’m meeting Mona because my sister begged me to, and I’m nice like that. Mona named the place and didn’t seem bothered when I told her I’d be late. And Karly must have texted me twenty times during dinner to confirm that I’d be there, so whatever the fuck this is about must be important.”