Page 40 of Poetry By Dead Men
“Is one of these mine?” I joke, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Absolutely not,” he says, pulling me even further to the back of the bus. “When you visit, you’ll stay with me.” He opens the door at the end of the hallway, revealing a queen size bed and small nightstand. Windows flank either side, and I imagine laying under the covers after a big show, falling asleep as we watch the road fly past.
I jump onto the bed, spreading my arms wide. “So, this is how rockstars live, huh?”
Bobby crawls over me, dragging his nose up my neck until his lips reach just behind my ear.
“Hearing that come out of your mouth sounds absolutely”—he nips at my ear—“ridiculous,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead before flopping next to me and pulling me close to rest against his chest.
“What do you mean, it soundsridiculous?” I ask, my heart beating faster as I look around the room. “We’re on a freaking tour bus! You’re going on freaking tour, your name is going to be on freaking tickets, and do you have merch? Oh my gosh, I hadn’t even thought about that. Bobby merch. Is it weird to hang a poster of your boyfriend on the wall?”
“Marissa is in charge of thefreakingmerch, but I’ll be sure to get you a T-shirt with my face on it.”
“I'll wear it proudly,” I say. “Can I get two? One a little bit bigger to sleep in and one I can wear to your shows?”
“You can have fifty if it’ll make you happy,” he says into my hair.
“I think two will be good, maybe an extra one to keep here for when I’m able to visit.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Bobby sits up, leaning over to the nightstand and opening the drawer. There’s a photo of us in a frame next to a lamp that I missed before. Both of us are beaming at the camera after one of his shows, Bobby holding his guitar in one arm and me in the other. He pulls out a notebook, flipping it open. I expect a new song, but instead, it’s a list of venues.
“This is when we’ll get into each city, and when we leave. A lot of them are within a couple of hours' drive from New York, or less by train. I don’t expect you to follow me around all summer, but I thoughtwe could figure out all the easiest places for you to come watch the show and maybe stay with me for a couple days. I know it’ll be harder once classes start.”
“Are you kidding? I want to come to as many shows as I can. And Molly will want to come with me sometimes. Maybe on the longer trips she can tag along? You don’t have an extra bunk, do you?”
“Actually, I do.” He smiles. “I can’t believe it’s all happening,” Bobby says, setting the notebook down and trailing his fingers across the long list of cities he’ll be performing in over the next several months.
“I can,” I say, squeezing his hand, and I mean it. If anyone deserves this, it’s Bobby. But it’s not just his talent. It’s his kindness, his drive, his hard work. “You deserve all this, and more.”
He tilts my head up, pressing a long, lingering kiss to my lips. “I have something for you,” he says, pulling me off the bed and back toward the leather couch. It’s soft and plush, and I scoot to the corner and curl my legs under me.
Bobby sits on the table and picks up his guitar. “I wrote this for you,” he says, taking his ball cap off and bending the bill before flipping it backwards, as if suddenly nervous. “I’ve been working on it for a while, actually, but it finally feels finished.”
“Is this the one you wouldn’t let me read?” I ask, even though I’m sure it has to be. He always lets me read his songs, every single one of them, except for the one mysterious page in his notebook he made me promise not to look at months ago.
“I hadn’t told you how I felt yet, when I started it.” He leans forward and kisses me, soft and sweet, and my body warms all the way to my toes.
"Go on then," I urge when he pulls back, my heart so light I wonder if I’m levitating off the couch.
Bobby closes his eyes and starts to play. A soft, sweet, slow melody that makes me feel like asking him to dance. But then he'd have to stop singing, and that is the last thing on earth I want.
When the moon wanes in a weary sky
When frost freezes roots, petals wither and die
You're gonna be okay, and I’ll tell you why
You're safe in the arms of someone who loves you
You won’t feel alone and you won’t be afraid
When the sun starts to set at the end of the day
Come hell or high water, come whatever may
You’re safe in the arms of someone who loves you
I think I prayed for youwithout speaking the words
