Page 31 of Grave Misgivings
“Pillarsis scheduled to make a stop in Tucson, and I’ll have a couple days before and after the show before we have to bound off to Georgia,” I start.
Suddenly, I feel nervous he’s going to say no.
And this... this conversation is going to end, and I don’t want it to.
“Oh,” he says quietly.
“I was thinking, maybe... and I’d totally understand if, like... you didn’t want to, but, I washoping?—”
His voice drops an octave, and my cock twitches.Again.
“Hoping for what, Geo?”
I don’t realize that I’ve stopped talking altogether, because all I can focus on is the sound of his hot fudge sundae voice.
“I was hoping, uh... maybe we could... catch up? Have lunch or something?”
“You want to catch up? With me?” I don’t miss the way his voice lifts, like he’s nervous. Though, I guess I can’t blame him.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
There is a pause, and for a moment, I think he’s hung up. But then he speaks.
“Okay.” His voice is soft, and he sounds sleepy.
I yawn in response. “Okay,” I murmur as I bury my face in my pillow.
“Go to sleep, Geo.” His voice is deep, smooth, suggestive, and with that added gravel of sleepiness, I can’t help but let out a contented sigh.
I’ve never felt so warm.
He said okay. Maybe I can fix things after all.
“Okay,” I answer, but I don’t hang up.
“Okay,” he breathes.
I focus on the sound of his breath, the rhythm of it, and before I know it, I’m out like a light.
My phone screechesat the tender hour of six am, and I groan into my pillow, realizing my glasses are still on my fucking face.
I sit up, adjusting them. Thankfully, they aren’t too bent.
I reach for the phone to shut it off, seeing a couple texts and a call from my sister.
Call me back, asshole!
Seriously, you can’t avoid me forever!
Don’t make me call Kevin!
She’s right, I can’t keep avoiding her, but I’m not ready to have thehomeconversation.
I haven’t been home since I left. My leaving left a lot of people upset, including my parents.
My mom had been my manager for sixteen years, and she had no clue that I’d sent in a package to Casualty Records. The only person that knew I was evenlookingat other options was Katy.
Zeb knew I wanted to be famous—mainstream famous—but we didn’t really talk about my dreams of Hollywood, because he didn’t seem to really favor the idea of “selling out”.
