Page 218 of Scoring the Player
Again.
It came in a few days ago—a text with a link.
Sid
He’s in love with you
My hair stood on end as Blue closed his eyes and sang an acoustic rendition of a song I’d never heard but now can’t forget. “Lonely Love Song” by St. Paul & The Broken Bones. His voice,older and deeper sounding than his speaking voice, bled about death and longing. It was haunting.
The opposite of running.
It rooted down and rubbed against a visceral ache inside me.
He was showered with applause as I was swallowed by heartache. The video has over two million views, with people demanding an album. Blue hasn’t acknowledged the demand or made any public statement. I get the feeling he never will. This wasn’t for the public.
Simba’s bark cuts through Blue’s voice, startling me.
“What is it?”
He jumps to his feet and takes off toward the door.
There’s a growl missing from his bark, which means someone friendly is approaching. It’s different from his howl for me and Denzel.
I pause the video, then grab my button-down off the armrest and tug it on.
Standing, I walk over to the security panel to check the camera feed.
Hmm. He’s off tonight.
“Good boy.” I pet Sim on his head before turning the locks and opening the door.
“Hey, boss,” Josiah says, holding up a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. “Hungry?”
“Uh…” I look down the street. “Were you in the neighborhood?”
He lowers his hands. “N-no. I was sitting at home, bored, and thought I’d check in on you and Simba.” Simba pops his head out at the sound of his name.
“Hey, Sim,” Josiah says, bending down and showing him some love.
“Honestly, I’d usually welcome the company, but I’m feeling like shit.”
“Oh. What’s the matter? A cold?”
“Nah. Nothing like that.”
He peers up at me, waiting for me to elaborate. “Oh. Is it Arnaz?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
He pouts as he stands. “You sure food and wine won’t help?”
“Thanks, but I think I’m gonna turn in.”
“Okay.”
“Hold on one sec?” I step back.
I jog to the kitchen, grab a Tupperware container, and fill it.
