Page 33 of Crazy Love
Actually, technically I think she was already fucking me.
“OK.” Joel stills, weighing up how to take that. I can tell from the V-shaped furrow in the centre of his brow. “Do we need to talk, Nate?”
I wish that was an actual question that I could give a negative response to, because I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. I know what I’m going to have to tell him too. He’s going to like that even less.
It’s still going to have to be done. “Bathroom,” I say to Joel, making a thumb signal.
I give Loveday one last enormous smooch. “You might want to leave, it’s going to get grim round here. Possibly violent.”
“Maybe I should hang around and protect you.”
I shake my head. “Best you don’t. I’ll see you at six.”
I hurry after Joel, not bothering to cover up. I’m just crossing the threshold to the bathroom when the string of F-bombs goes off.Fatoomsh! Fatoomsh! Fatoomsh!
Loveday’s right behind me, hands strategically positioned across her breasts and pussy. She grabs a hotel bathrobe from the closet and bolts into the corridor leaving only the impression of her lips and her scent behind.
Joel barrels straight into me. He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me hard.
“What the fuck, Nate? What the frickin, fuck! Is he stoned, dead, what? I’m assuming he’s not dead, since you’ve tucked him in, and you were screwing?”
An irate Joel leering at me at this hour of the morning is not a pleasant experience. It’s no surprise that my balls attempt to hide, and my dick curls up. It bitterly resents—as do I—that Joel’s arrival has scared off its dream date. Fuck the issues with Knox, I want to say, just bring Loveday back.
I wonder if we’ll still be speaking come six o’clock.
“Where is she?” Joel asks, noticing her absence.
“Gone.” Just saying that hollows out a cavern in my chest.
Exasperated, he raises his hands in the air, which at least means he stops shaking me. “Tell me you asked her. There has to be some kind of silver lining. Tonight can’t actually be the fuck up of the century.”
“I haven’t asked her.”
“Why the fuck not?” he yells before I get a chance to answer any of his questions about Knox. Then again, maybe they don’t need answering, given Joel’s already figured out what Knox’s condition means for the band.
“We have a bass-player, Joel. I’m not sacking him. We went over this earlier.”
“We have a bass-player,” he mutters wearily. “You mean the stupid bugger’s actually still alive. ‘Scuse me if I think that’s a pity.” He pulls at his curls. “Bastard hasn’t even the decency to croak.”
I know…or rather hope, that Joel’s venom is just talk, and that he doesn’t actually wish Knox ill. It used to be they were good mates until Knox started lighting up at every opportunity. Joel gets prickly over regular smoking.
“He spewed everywhere and needed a wash down, which is why he’s in the bath, but he’ll be fine,” I explain. “Loveday helped me get him out of sight before one of Graham Callahan’s people accidently clapped eyes on him.”
“She just happened along and played the Good Samaritan.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t need to know the details.
“And what, you decided to fuck her as a thank you?”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“She’s a member of fucking Bitch Slap. If you aren’t trying to poach her, you stay the fucking hell away from her, Nate. She’s the enemy. One of the shits that’s going to steal our thunder, because dick brain in the bath here screwed up again.” He gesticulates wildly with his hands as if he’s not sure what to do with them. Eventually, they form into fists and he drags them down to his sides.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of him being functional in time to see Callahan?”
“Probably not. Maybe if we were performing at six in the evening.”
“Fucking shitbag!” Joel kicks the bathroom door, causing it to bounce back and forth on its hinges and make ascreech-thudsound. It’s a wonder it doesn’t come loose from its moorings altogether.
