Page 48 of Soul Food

“She’s having fun.” Lars stated as we watched them laugh at whatever movie they were watching. “Don’t think she’ll need you tonight, Sire.”

We said nothing for the longest time before I finally left her house and changed into my human form. I sighed when I heard Lars port in after me. I flopped down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. “You know you’re supposed to stay and keep an eye on her.”

“Don’t sulk, Sire.” His uneven footsteps came closer. “I thought her not needing you tonight would please you. You saw how happy she was. Good for the soul.”

“Leave,” I barked out bitterly.

“Yes, Sire.” Lars walked backward and then made a hasty retreat.

Chapter Thirteen

RUTH

It took two days to get Ma set up in her new home. It made me happy to finally know it would be lived in. It was a thirty-minute drive from my house, and I truthfully wished she’d stay with me. I didn’t think she’d agree, though, because by the time everything was set up in her house; she kicked me and Jayne to the curb. Something about us being annoying, and she couldn’t make her house a home with us around. So, I left her a credit card and a car for her to do as she wanted. I didn’t care what she did as long as it had nothing to do with drugs or my sperm donor. I’d admit I was nervous leaving her alone, but something felt different this time. The only way we’d know if she could succeed was if I treated her like she wasn’t a recovering addict. If I stuck by her side, she’d know what I was doing.

“You haven’t gotten a moment to write any lyrics the last couple of days, have you?’ Jayne asked me as John drove us to the studio.

“It’s fine. Getting Ma in her house has been worth it.” There was a warmth in me that continued to linger. I wanted this to work with Ma. She deserved to be happy even after I was gone.

She agreed. “It has.” She peered out the window thoughtfully. “Think she’d get mad if we crashed at her place?” Jayne didn’t bring it up much, but I knew her parents had passed away when she was around nineteen. Sometimes I thought that’s why she helped me so much to mend my relationship with my own mother.

“She’s probably already put padlocks on the doors.” I stared out the window, the idea of Ma doing just that sent a fuzzy, warmth of affection for her throughout my chest.

Jayne’s unladylike snort had me glimpsing her way. “I’d say you’re right.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in with me?” I sent The Oppressors a text earlier letting them know I’d be here today so that they could hopefully help get the words out of me. They were as restless as I was, so I knew they’d be there.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t seen or heard from my muse since my masturbation video call three nights ago. I had no chance to call him, but he hadn’t called me either. That didn’t matter. The fact that I wanted to talk to him was the issue. Time was of the essence—aka time to be selfish.

But besides that, there was a more urgent problem like the fact that Jayne tucked her imaginary tail between her legs and wouldn’t come with me while I hung out with the band. “Don’t think I don’t remember you running away the moment they gave you attention.” I squinted at her.

Her face turned red. “Something about them makes me nervous,” she whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You wouldn’t understand being a celebrity yourself.” Then her shyness vanished in an instant as she lifted her head and gave me a sneaky leer. “Or maybe you do.” Oh, God. I knew where she was going with this. “You act like a weirdo around Amit!” she accused.

I laughed. “That isn’t very nice.”

She stuck out her tongue. “Go see your band. I’m going to work out then buy a dozen donuts for me to eat later since that’s the way I roll.”

“You’re so childish.” I shook my head as I opened the car door, then pointed toward her before getting out. “You better halve those donuts with me.”

______

Liam stopped singing abruptly a couple of hours later, forcing the guys to stop playing. Instead of being in the room across from them, I sat in the floor as they played around with some sounds. My knees were propped up and my notebook was in hand. My hair was up and I wore a pair of jeans and T-shirt with a slight bit of makeup. As a singer, I felt required to give so much into my appearance, but I appreciated the days I could avoid the heels and designer clothes.

Liam grabbed his forehead and sighed. “I can’t concentrate like this.”

“I know what you mean.” Pete glared.

I frowned. “What do you mean? Actually, I think the sound is quite good.”

Liam twisted around on his stool and glanced down at me for a second. “It’s not the music.” He slanted his head forward in a way that had me peeking through the window. “He’s been glowering through the window at us for the last hour.”

Amit was on the other side. His rigid posture sent off his signature don’t-fuck-with-me vibes.

Liam brought his arm up and started waving then said, “Hi,” which had the other two doing the same thing. Apparently, they didn’t care if they pissed off the president.

I gripped the notebook as I studied him. Too perfect. Too imitating. Even after days of not seeing or hearing his voice, my stomach still dipped. And for some reason, this unpleasant man let me do and say what I wanted to him. Double stomach dip.

Dark blue suit again. That color always made his penetrating gray eyes more intense.

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