Page 57 of Your Rhythm
“Yeah,” she admits, “me too.”
“So is this a yes? Am I seeing you in Montreal?”
She throws her hands up in defeat and I catch them by the wrists to place them on my shoulders.
“Okay, fine.” She pretends to pout.
“Well don’t soundtoohappy about it.”
I capture her mouth in a kiss she cuts off before we end up back in bed again.
“I have to be on a bus in four hours,” she reminds me.
I offer her a spot in our van instead. She glares at me.
“What?” I demand.
“You’re really bad at this secretive, low-key thing aren’t you?”
I pretend to be offended. “Was it not obvious I meant I was going to stow you away in the trunk?”
“Get out of here, Pearson.” Her hands drop from my shoulders, but she’s smiling.
“Right, okay, secretive,” I mutter, as I gather up the rest of my clothes. “I’ll disappear like a thief in the night, leaving no trace. When morning comes, you’ll wonder if I was ever here at all...”
She smacks my shoulder as I’m pulling my jacket on. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah,” I smirk, “an idiot who just got laid.”
That prompts her to open the door and usher me out with a grimace, but I refuse to leave until she gives me one final kiss.
* * *
Kay wasn’tthe only one with an early morning; we’re all piled into the Chick Magnet and halfway to Montreal by nine. Cole is at the wheel, an empty Red Bull can sitting in his cup holder as he steers us up the highway at speeds that should have me fearing for my life. He drives just like he does everything else, though: with intensity and a terrifying precision. If anyone was actually fit for operating a vehicle after a night of partying, it would be him.
I thought I’d be dodging questions about my evening the whole ride home, especially since I can’t keep the self-satisfied, ‘I just had mind-altering sex’ grin off my face. As it stands, though, whatever happened to the rest of us last night is overshadowed by the fact that JP got himself laid too. When JP gets laid, we hear a lot about it.
A lot.
“Et puis, we get to her room,et elle était commebasically naked already.Puis moi, je me prends—”
Ace cuts the multi-lingual play by play off.
“Dude, you’ve been telling this story for forty-five minutes and you’rejustgetting to her room now.”
“I’m setting the scene, man!” He waves his hands at Ace, not daunted at all, and continues with the story. “Alors, we go into her room...”
By the time we get to Montreal, I’m all too aware of what happened in said room and more than ready to spend the rest of the morning catching up on my sleep, but we’re due at Atlas headquarters for another meeting. We all wince at the searing glint of fluorescence on chrome in the lobby.
“Why do they keep making our meetings the morning after our shows?” Cole groans, as we cross to the elevators and wait for the doors to open.
“They’re clearly sadistic,” I answer.
We walk into a meeting room where two women in business casual are waiting for us on a group of grey couches. I’ve met one of them before: Nadine Beaudoin, head of some department or other here. I haven’t seen her since we finished working out the contract. She dips her head in greeting as we pile onto one of the couches.
“Shayla didn’t tell us she was running late,” I say to the room at large.
“Shayla won’t be joining us today,” Nadine answers. “We wanted to give you a chance to meet Amy.”
