Page 41 of Ring My Bell

“Oh, of course,” I said airily, following him into the house. “That’s definitely your favorite part.”

Mathis’s answering smirk was hot and promising. I trailed after him into the great room, stopping by the kitchen to set our mugs in the sink. I’d deal with them later, I decided—some things could wait, especially when Mathis was going to play me a song.

“It’s not my baby, but this is nice,” Mathis sighed, running his fingers along the glossy brown surface of the fall board. By the time I stretched out on the sofa, he was already warming up, not looking at me but smiling. He slipped from scales into his original version of Ring, so different from the fizzy pop rendition I’d sung for my first single.

Before I knew Mathis existed as anything other than a vague songwriting entity in Raymond’s pocket.

I closed my eyes and let the bluesy, gritty tune carry me along, rising and falling with the notes. As Mathis played, I hummed softly, not singing, though I knew the words—the real words, even. Mathis’ fingers tripped along from C sharp to E, on to F sharp, G, then G sharp, slowing as he reached the B of the minor blues scale. I opened one eye to find him staring at the keys with a sort of removed concentration, brow furrowed and lips pursed.

“You okay?” I asked softly. “Mathis?”

He started playing again, slipping between the bluesy original and the fizzy pop radio version for a few minutes before speaking again. “You know,” Mathis said over his playing, “we really should do it.”

“I was hoping,” I murmured, grinning as he snorted a laugh.

“No, what Gerald suggested. I mean, he’s never been wrong before, right?”

I sat up, heart starting a funny, skittish rhythm as excitement started bubbling in my veins. “Allegedly.”

“I was thinking that maybe us duetting would be just what we need.”

Words literally failed me. I tried to muster some but the best I could do was a funny little huff and a tiny meep. Neither of which sounded like the hell yes I was hoping for, probably because part of me—the part Raymond had done his best to break—was still hesitant.

Mathis brought the song through it’s final notes, and quiet settled over the room for a few minutes. “But I’m more of a pop kind of person,” I said finally.

“Where do you think pop originated?” Mathis murmured, reaching for me and pulling me to stand between his spread knees.

I tipped my head in acknowledgement. “We’ll never be top of the pops and whatever. The industry favors the prepackaged and shiny. And I’m about to lose my twink license in a few birthdays.”

Mathis snorted softly. “That’s right. After twenty-five, you’re no longer eligible, huh?”

“So long as you’re not gonna trade me in for a newer model…”

“Never,” he said fiercely, pulling me down to sit on his thigh. “And about the fame and fortune… It’d be nice. More than nice. Having the money, I mean. But… Oh god, this is gonna sound so trite and after-school-special of me, but I just want to play, you know? I want people to hear what I write, what I sing—what you sing. I want them to hear our music, and love it, and have it mean something to them. And if I never get mega famous or even a little famous, I’m fine. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I want to get paid…”

“Fuck that suffering artist shit,” I agreed. “Whoever thinks we should be happy doing it ‘for exposure’ can eat my nylons.”

Mathis made a thoughtful face. “You know, there’s probably a market for that online if we ever need to make ends meet…”

His loud cackle at my offended squeak led to my own giggle-fit, and soon, we were trying to make one another laugh.

Which led to a breathless collapse on the sofa and then a tangle of limbs. “They’re gonna be back soon,” he murmured against my jaw. “Are you sure…?”

I nodded, barely a lift of my chin since I couldn’t stand the idea of not kissing him. Smiling against my mouth, he arched into me, pressing his hard cock to mine. We shifted, nearly tumbling to the floor before Mathis caught us and wiggled us back onto the sofa proper. My legs parted to give him room.

“You know,” I whispered, closing my eyes as his fingers fumbled open my fly, “if we did stay on and take those positions on the festival board, we could stay here all the time. Or at least when we weren’t playing gigs.”

He paused, lifting his head to peer down at me with a slightly bemused expression. “I’m about to ride you off into the sunset, and your mind is wandering?”

Tugging him back down atop me, I nipped his earlobe, then soothed the spot with the tip of my tongue. “I was thinking how happy I am here, how I didn’t want to leave next week.”

He nodded against my neck, his hair tickling my throat and jaw. “I mean… It’s definitely a consideration. But what do you mean, playing gigs? I thought we were waiting till Pepper got the paperwork to us before starting anything.”

“It’d be ridiculous of us to turn down the offers, wouldn’t it? We’ve easily got a dozen for us as a duo, and god knows how many for you on your own, and for me…” I made a face. “Though I think some of those are more of a ‘school talent show’ kind of vibe.” My fantastic (if I do say so) turn on the violin had made me something of a novelty act, apparently. Several of the requests had been from oddball festivals and the occasional larger venue, but they’d been more curious about how my pop-tart-wannabe past meshed with my classical music background.

Mathis had less weird invites. Piano plus poppy tunes were old hat, and his swing influence and how he leaned hard on old-fashioned styles in his playing and songwriting was getting him all sorts of attention as the ‘new face of pop music.’ He hated it, but I kind dug it. I’d bookmarked every article I came across breathlessly extolling his ‘retro sensibilities’ or portraying him as some romantic poet in a leather jacket.

“I’m honestly kind of afraid it’s all going to fall apart,” Mathis murmured against my hair, hugging me to his chest. I half-heartedly want to protest, wanted us to go back to the groping and kissing and touching, the sure thing about to happen. But the warm, melting feeling the simple intimacy created spreading through my entire body was… not better, just different. And amazing and new.

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