Page 388 of Rock Me All Night
Whir. Whir. Whir.
"Fucking asshole." Tom grabs two pillows and covers his ears.
Miles laughs. He turns back to me. "What kind of guys do you like?"
Fuck it. I'm too frustrated to keep this to myself. "Guys who are clear about their intentions. Who don't blow hot and cold."
I can feel Tom's eyes on me. Sure enough, he's staring with this hurt look on his face.
Miles clears his throat. "Ah, dealing with a cunt-tease is no good. Kick that guy to the curb."
Tom looks at me. "Maybe he has an explanation. He was drunk and let his cock do the thinking for him. Maybe the guy realized he was crossing the line." His eyes go to the floor. "And it took every fucking ounce of will power he had to do the right thing."
Miles stares at Tom with a look that demands explanation.
Tom shoves his hands into his pockets. "You making coffee or you just giving me a headache?"
"Damn," Miles says. "Never seen you this pissy, Sticks. Those blue balls are getting to you."
"Fuck off," Tom growls.
"You're proving my point."
* * *
IthankMiles for the coffee and sip in silence, counting down the seconds until I will no longer be in the same space as Tom.
Ages pass while we wait for Pete and Drew to arrive. Once we're all settled in, the bus takes off.
I hide behind my laptop, pretending I'm busy editing photos. There's nothing worth editing on here besides the pictures of Tom half naked and God knows that's not going to help my situation any.
A groan breaks my concentration. From the way heat is building between my legs, it must be Tom's. Sure enough, he's on the couch next to Miles, losing at a shooter video game. They're teasing each other, caught up in the competition.
When Tom's eyes catch mine, his expression changes. Confused. Regretful even. There's so much tension between us. Even when I look away, I can feel it spreading through the air.
I try to think about my future. After this tour, I'll have enough savings to open a studio, but I need a focus. Don't get me wrong—I'll take whatever work I can get—but no one is going to hire a photographer who is okay at everything. I need to be amazing at one thing.
Headshots are fine. A little too nice. Editorial work would be amazing, but it's hard to come by, and it doesn't pay well. I need something steady enough to support myself. There's no way I'm taking money from my parents. Even from Drew.
Boudoir has potential. There's an appealing rawness to it. A sexuality. Too much, really. How am I ever going to convince shy clients to feel comfortable when I'm utterly lost in the sex and love department?
When we arrive in Seattle, I get set up in my hotel room and pour myself into collecting photographic inspiration. I don't stop until my stomach growls. Okay. It's about dinnertime. I need something to do after I eat, something that will keep me from thinking about Tom. I surf the net for inspiration.
There. Perfect.Fight Clubis playing at a hip theater downtown. Shirtless, sexy, alpha male Brad Pitt is sure to replace Tom as my fantasy man. And the other great stuff about the movie. Cinematography, snappy dialogue...
Other sexy shirtless men.
I grab a sandwich at the coffee shop outside the hotel and take a cab to the movie theater. It's a beautiful night. Crisp air. Dark sky. Everything is shades of blue and green. Even the theater. Its yellow marquee stands out against its soft blue exterior.
It's twenty minutes to show time. Perfect. I can grab a snack and a drink and relax before the movie.
Only there's no hope of relaxing.
Tom is here.
And there's a woman on his arm.
