Page 118 of On The Rocks

Lennon

Best Way To Die

Balcony sex hadn’t been on my list, but I added it.

With a gold star next to it in my head.

I sat up on him. He was all warm and soft under me and I could get used to this far too easily.

He tucked an arm behind his back, showing off all the endless muscles that he hid under his clothes. I ran my fingertips over the one tattoo he had on his chest. The Morning Pages album logo.

The album of his heart.

There wasn’t any other tattoo on him that had to do with his band. At least not outwardly.

“Do you want to play music again? You looked good on that stage.”

He lifted my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss along my palm before letting it go. “I didn’t think I ever would.”

“But?”

“But maybe I missed it more than I thought.”

“I heard you playing earlier. Was it new?”

He looked away from me and sat up, so we were skin to skin. “This is about you for the next few days.”

“Don’t do that.” I cupped his face until he looked at me. “Was it?”

“Nothing that was a song. Just a melody.” He curled his arms around me. “The first time a new melody showed up since we broke up.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Looks like we’re both a pair.” I pressed my cheek against his and we sat there like that for a few minutes until his stomach roared. I laughed. “Food first.”

“You want to go out?”

I sat back and nodded. “But you can order up some ridiculously overpriced fries to cover us while we get ready.” Then I climbed off him and grabbed my bag. “Dibs on the shower.”

He collapsed back on the lounger. “Fine.”

I stopped at the sliding doors. “And maybe you should order some clothes from that fancy clothing store downstairs.”

“You just want more time in the shower.”

“I do.” I lengthened the word.

I’d already taken a shower today but a plane—even first-class seats—always made me feel like I needed to wash off the humanity. And since Griffin needed to find clothes, I stepped up my everything shower with some of the fancy body scrub in the bathroom.

By the time I was done, I was glowing and soft as a baby’s butt. I braided part of my hair and left the rest of the curls to do what they were going to do then attacked my face. I packed an arsenal of makeup that I only used for special occasions.

If you looked really close, you could still see the bruise, but at least no one would think poor Griffin beat me from first glance. I left the bathroom with one of the plush robes wrapped aroundme and found him sitting on the couch with a plate of fries beside him and a dress bag draped over the chair.

“You work fast.”

“Not really.” He stood, stealing one last fry. “But worth it.” He pushed open the robe to kiss my shoulder then he grabbed the bag.

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