Page 24 of Ring My Bell

The vibration of my phone startled us both apart, breathing hard and pink-cheeked. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.” He smiled just a little.

“That wasn’t carried away. We’re still in the front seats, and our jeans are still zipped.”

Mathis cocked a brow. “I bet we could fix that…”

I bit my lip, leaning back as he slid his hand up my thigh, pausing before the very obvious ridge in my lap. “We’ve got a bit of time,” I whispered. My phone buzzed again, sounding angrier if that was at all possible.

“I bet we don’t,” he sighed, leaning back. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom. Want anything?”

“From the bathroom? Ew.”

He rolled his eyes, flipping me off with a smirk. He climbed out of the car, leaving me to check who was calling. Shit. Gerald. That couldn’t be anything good.

“Gerald, hey.” I forced some cheer into my tone.

“Where are you right now, this very second?” Gerald’s clipped tone was disconcerting—he was usually so laidback and soft-voiced. Hearing him sound brusque set all my alarm bells to ringing.

“Er. Lucille, Colorado. At a travel plaza. I’m about to go grab a drink and some snacks while Mathis uses the facilities. What’s up?”

“Raymond’s going to be a surprise last-minute judge at the festival.”

“What?” I sat bolt upright, staring into the convenience mart as if I could summon Mathis with the power of my anxiety alone. “How’d that happen?”

“No clue. The judges’ panel is usually set at least a year in advance, but yesterday, Carmichael Lewis backed out suddenly.”

I groaned. Lewis was another producer, more focused on rock and metal, but he moved in the same circles as Raymond. I wouldn’t have called them friends, but like knew like. “So now what?”

“Now,” Gerald said grimly, “you’re going to have to face him.”

After a scuffling sound and Gerald’s startled hey, Paige came on the line. “Or not,” they said. “Look, we’re a few hours behind, but if you’re still stopping in Kansas tonight, we’ll meet up at the hotel and work something out. Because you’re not gonna let Raymond win, all right?”

“I’m not?” I asked archly. “I thought we were a team? Shouldn’t it be we’re not?”

Paige made a sound of agreement. “Yeah, but you’re kind of our figurehead, so…” I didn’t have to see them to know they were shrugging. “Tonight at the hotel. Text me if you guys change your mind about where we’re staying.”

Paige hung up, and I wanted to scream. “I knew this was too easy.” I practically threw myself out of the car, marching into the store. Mathis emerged from the bathroom as I was piling a hand basket high with junk food and drinks, grumbling to myself about changing plans and fucked up lives. “Here. Take this. My turn.”

He bobbled it but caught it before it hit the ground, staring after me. I made use of the necessary. Then, after washing my hands, I made the water the coldest I could and grabbed some paper towels for a compress. After pressing it to the back of my neck, then my forehead, I started to feel better, a little less like I was head-down in a pressure cooker. But it didn’t help me figure out what to do next.

Going to the festival was supposed to be the first step to a new start. Maybe not what I’d been dreaming of—hell, what any of us had been dreaming of, really—but the first slice in cutting Raymond out of our lives.

“Damn it!” I grabbed more towels and soaked them in cold water, dabbing at my red eyes and smeared eye makeup in a futile attempt to get my shit together, at least outwardly. I’d need to tell Mathis, and then tonight, we’d figure out how to move forward.

I hoped.

* * *

When I came out, Mathis was waiting in the car. I felt a pang of guilt seeing he’d paid for all of the food and drinks instead of waiting for me. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean for you…”

“It’s fine. I’m gonna end up eating half of it anyway. If not more. You got a lot of Skittles, and those are kind of my thing.”

I smiled thinly. “Well, have at ‘em. I’m feeling kind of blargh right now.”

We sat for a long moment, neither of us buckling in and him not even reaching for the keys to start the engine. “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asked finally. “Or is this another thing I’m going to have to pull out of you with pliers?”

“First, ew. Second… Shit. Okay. Plans are changing.” I told him what Gerald and Paige had passed on to me.

Mathis closed his eyes. Exhaling slowly and noisily, he let his head fall back against the head rest. “Okay. Okay. Well. We’ve got about four hours till we get to the hotel. I’m gonna pull around to a pump and fill up if you want to break into some of those crackers. Your stomach’s been rumbling since Boulder.”

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