Page 26 of Love Notes and Late Nights
“Sleep OK?” Wolf asked.
“Like a dream,” Harris replied, then remembered Wolf’s dreams weren’t always pleasant. “I slept great,” he amended. “You?”
“Yeah, but I kept thinking about that pie. I almost got up and finished it.”
The mention of the pie brought back memories of sweet cinnamon and sugar, apples, and a flakey, buttery crust. “It was good.”
“I know. We should’ve taken it up to the room with us. Can you get us the apple pie that’s in the refrigerator on the bus?” Wolf asked one of the bodyguards, who nodded.
The elevator stopped and the two bodyguards exited first to make sure the floor was clear. Paul always booked the entire floor for the band and the crew, but you can never be too careful.
“How are the rooms split?” Marshall asked.
It used to be Ethan and Wolf sharing one two-bedroom suite and Marshall and Harris in another, but that all changed once Ethan met Tyler. Wolf and Ethan weren’t sharing a room anymore.
“Two-bedroom suites in the right corner. One-bedroom suites in the left corner. Single rooms in the middle,” Paul answered. “Take your pick and let me know where you end up.”
“I’ll share with Ethan.” Marshall displayed a sinister grin. “Since he thinks I snore.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Great. I’ll buy extra earplugs.”
“I guess that leaves me and you,” Wolf told Harris. “More pie for us,” he whispered under his hand.
Marshall placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I’ll be sure to keep it nice and cool in the suite too.”
By cool, Marshall meant ice cold. The battle of the thermostat had been an ongoing issue since they first started touring. But that was Ethan’s problem now. Wolf was Harris’ roomie on this tour, and he couldn’t be happier. He slung his arm over Wolf’s shoulder, and they went to their suite.
“I don’t know whether to wait for the pie or go back to bed.” Wolf rubbed his eyes and yawned.
The guy looked out of it, obviously having had a deep sleep on the bus, and Harris wanted Wolf to continue with it. “You go crash. I’ll wait for the pie.”
“Thanks.” Wolf pointed his finger at Harris. “Don’t eat it all. Save me some.”
“I’m not making any promises!”
After Wolf disappeared into the bedroom, Harris was stuck sitting on the couch waiting for the damn pie. His eyes weregetting heavier and heavier, after staying up half the night with Wolf, and he wanted to go to bed. He started to doze off but knocking woke him. Finally! He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and opened the door.
Ethan was standing there holding the pie box in his hand. “I can’t believe you guys ate the whole fucking pie.”
“We only ate half.” Harris took the pie box and lifted the lid. Obviously, someone snuck into the kitchen before the bus stopped and ate another quarter, leaving only one big slice. “Fucking Wolf.”
Ethan chuckled. “I remember when we were kids, he’d walk around the house sometimes in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep. My mom would wake up and sit with him in the kitchen, and they’d share a snack and a glass of milk. I’d get up in the morning looking for that last piece of cake or that last cookie, and it’d be gone.”
While Ethan had a faraway look in his eyes as he reminisced over a fond memory, Harris was stuck on the fact that Wolf would walk around the house in the middle of the night when he was a kid. It was a very real issue that had been going on, most likely untreated, for far too long. Harris had seen a documentary about sleep disorders, and it was terrible. It affected people in a multitude of ways. Some were barely able to function. Others lived in constant fear of sleep and did anything they could to stay awake. “Can I talk to you about something?” he asked.
“What’s on your mind?”
Harris pulled Ethan into the hallway in case Wolf was still awake. “What’s up with Wolf’s nightmares?”
“What do you mean?” Ethan frowned and worry creased his forehead. “Has he been having nightmares? He didn’t tell me anything.”
“Yeah. He’s had a few. I witnessed one of them. It was bad. So fucked up. I didn’t know what to do. I almost called you.”
“You were with him?” The crease between Ethan’s brows deepened.
“Yeah. We nodded off at his place watching TV, and I woke up to him thrashing and sweating. He was so fucking scared, Ethan. I . . . it was . . .” Harris couldn’t finish his sentence because just thinking about it left him rattled, so he just shook his head.
“Was he OK?”
