Page 20 of Hard Rock Heat
I'd had nightmares about walking into my childhood home and seeing my father lying on the floor, his body cold andstiff.
I shoved a fistful of popcorn in my mouth and turned up the volume, wanting to hear the bleeped out curse words and angry shouts of this week'sbridezilla.
The show ended and I turned off the television and got ready for bed. There was no one to say goodnight to. I turned off the lights in the living room, closed the door to my bedroom behind me by habit, and slipped under thecovers.
I heard my phone ping with a notification from the nightstand. I thought about ignoring it, but it could have been work. I grabbed it and checked the glowingscreen.
Hey sweetness,it read.What are you up totonight?
My heart both jumped and sank at the same time, if that was even possible. My stomach filled with dread as I realized Damon had another way to continue torturing me. My stomach filled with dozens of nervous butterflies, wondering why he was texting — and wondering what he was going to saynext.
My phone pinged again. I gripped ittight.
Got a hot date?he asked.Is that why you're ignoringme?
I'm not ignoring you,I wrote back.You only messaged me thirty secondsago.
I'm an impatientman.
How did you even get my number?You didn't have my phone long enough to memorizeit.
It's on your businesscard.
Dammit.
So is that a no on the hot date?he wroteback.
Isnorted.
What about you?I asked.Shouldn't you be banging some groupie instead of spending your time annoyingme?
You seem obsessed with my sexlife.
I amnot.
That's the second time you've mentioned groupies. I didn't think you were so judgmental. Your sister was one, wasn'tshe?
She was not!!! Hope was a fan, that'sit.
Fangirl, groupie, is there adifference?
You're an ass,I typed back and tossed my phone on thenightstand.
It pinged. I ignored it and sunk down further into thecovers.
It pinged again. And again, in a flurry of texts. With a grunt, I reached out from the blankets and fumbled around forit.
I'm sorry,Damon had typed.I didn't mean to insult you, or Hope. You're the one who keeps talking about groupies as if they're a bad thing. I love groupies. And not just to "bang". Groupies are our most hardcore fans. They follow us everywhere, go to every concert. They're the reason we're able to do what wedo.
I squirmed on my bed, vaguelyashamed.
You're right, I typed reluctantly.I've been a bit of a judgmental bitch, haven'tI?
A little, he typedback.
You could at least disagree!!I typedfuriously.
If the Diana Six shoefits…
