Page 93 of Spark

When Kai expresses frustration, Titus says, “We could always do what Reed keeps begging us for.” There’s no need to explain; we all know Reed wants a sequel to “Hate Sex High.”

“A brazen money grab like that,” Kai says, “premiered to an audience this big, would probably go straight to number one.”

I take a bite from the charcuterie board. “But what would a sequel to ‘Hate Sex High’ even be about? Erotic asphyxiation?”

We all crack up.

“We could write a song called ‘Spank,’” Savage offers, looking straight at Kendrick. “That title would grab people’s attention, don’t you think, KC?”

As Kai expresses interest, I launch out of my seat, shouting, “Kendrick Cook! You swore you didn’t show those lyrics to anybody!”

“I didn’t,” Kendrick insists, shooting a death glare at Savage.

“Oh. Yeah. No, he didn’t,” Savage stammers. “I haven’t read any of it. I just saw the title when I glanced over his shoulder once, but he slammed his notebook shut before I could read anything else.”

“Same here!” I bellow, as Kai asks what the hell we’re talking about. “I only got to read the title and the first line before he snatched his precious journal away from me.”

“Guys, answer me,” Kai insists. “You’re sayingKendrickwrote a song called ‘Spank?’”

“Lyrics, yeah,” Savage confirms. “But he won’t let us see them.” He grins at Kendrick, who’s still shooting him daggers. “All we know is whatever he wrote is hot as fuck. Filthy, to the extreme. The filthiest thing you could ever possibly imagine. And Kendrick wrote the entire thing in one sitting.”

“What the fuck?” Kai says, looking flabbergasted. “That sounds like something you’dwrite, not Kendrick.”

Savage laughs. “That’s exactly whatIsaid.”

Kai motions to his brother. “Go get your journal, KC. Let’s see this thing.”

“Yeah, KC,” I say with a devilish smile. “Go get your journal, KC. Let’s see this thing.”

“It’s not in there anymore,” Kendrick says, leaning back and spreading his thighs. “I ripped those pages out and threw them away.”

“When?” I blurt, feeling crestfallen.

“The other night. It was trash day after that, so they’re long gone now.”

I gasp and clutch my chest, feeling a deep sense of loss. It wasone thing for Kendrick to refuse to let me see those pages, but another thing for him to throw them away. What happened to him letting me get turned on by the very existence of those written words in this world, even if he refused to let me see them?

Kai is beside himself with frustration. “Why the fuck did you do that?” he yells. “I’ve told you a million times to never, ever throw anything away, because there’s no such thing as a bad idea.”

“This time, there was.” Kendrick glares at Savage again, but he only laughs.

“Fucking hell, Kendrick,” Kai says, palming his forehead. “Do you at least remember anything you wrote? I really like the title.” He puts his hand up, like he’s spreading letters across a marquee. “‘Spank,’ from the band that brought you ‘Hate Sex High.’” He smirks at the group. “That title would definitely be on-brand.” He’s a man on a mission now, as he turns to me. “What was the first line you read? Do you remember it?”

Why, yes, I do. In fact, those words will be burned into my grey matter forever.

Lying awake, my body staging a coup/Can’t have?—

Unfortunately, that’s all I saw, so I don’t know what Kendrick thinks he can’t have. Satisfaction? Relief, release, sex? What he needs, wants, deserves? It’s anybody’s guess.

All I know for sure is I’m not going to reveal a single word of Kendrick’s private thoughts to the group. It was one thing to admit I know about the existence of those lyrics, but it’d be another thing entirely to disrespect his stated boundaries by offering up any details.

I glance at Kendrick while replying to Kai. “I don’t remember any of it. Sorry. I was pretty drunk.”

Kai points at Savage. “Okay, rockstar. That’s your homework assignment, then. Write up some lyrics for a song called ‘Spank,’ and let’s see where it takes us. That should be like falling off a log for you.”

“No, don’t,” Kendrick blurts. When everyone looks at him, he adds, “Think about it. If Savage sings a song called ‘Spank’ that’s about all the ways he gets off on spanking an ass, everyone will assume he’s singing about spanking hiswife’sass.”

Kai pulls a face. “Yeah. Obviously. So what?”

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