Page 27 of Before Eve
Anne clears her throat, and it snaps me back, realizing that West and I had gravitated closer to each other. He leans away then, turning to survey all the sound equipment scattered around.
“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to mix a show,” he muses.
“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be up on stage,” Anne counters.
West lights up. “It’s the most incredible feeling. To know whatever you do, the audience will experience it. It’s all right at your fingertips, and a slight move one way or the other could make or break a song. Oh, and when the EQ’s just right, when the acoustics in a place are perfect, it’s like an orgasm or something.”
“Orgasm?” Anne laughs. “That’s an interesting description.”
Anne and West continue talking and I zero in on the word “orgasm”. What does one feel like, I wonder. Warm? Numb? Vibrations? Does it go through the whole body or just—
“Eve?”
My head snaps up. “Yeah?”
“Do you want one?” Anne prompts.
My blood drains. Surely she’s not asking me if I want an orgasm. West chuckles then like he knows exactly where my thoughts went.
Anne jumps down off the stage. “I’m going to run and get a Coke. Do you want one?”
“Sure.”
A chilly breeze blows by the outdoor theater, carrying the scent of funnel cake, and my skin pricks to goosebumps. I turn back to West to find him studying me. Sometimes he does that—just silently contemplates me. I wish I could read his mind.
“You cold?” he asks, already unzipping his hoodie.
“A little,” I admit, eyeing his movements.
He slides his arms free and drapes the hoodie over my shoulders before hopping off the stage and strolling off. The warmth and scent of his hoodie surrounds me as I snuggle into it. No one’s ever done that before, asked or cared if I was cold, or given me the clothes off their body to wear.
“West?” I call.
He looks over his shoulder.
“Why are you here? Sound check’s not for another two hours and reporters usually interview you guys at the hotel.” West’s lips curve up, making something inside me swell.
“I knew you’d be here.” Then he turns and strolls off.
CHAPTER 13
It’ssix in the morning, and we don’t work today which means Anne will sleep until noon. But I plan on a morning run in Central Park and the sightseeing I’ve always wanted to do in New York.
And so I tuck a long sleeve T-shirt into my running shorts, tie my Nikes, and head out. West and I always meet in the lobby of whatever hotel we find ourselves in, and there he is leaning up against the front counter watching the bustle of patrons moving around, doorman hailing cabs, and bellcaps in their uniforms. I use the time he doesn’t know I’m looking to check out his sleep-messy hair, his grey and white track pants, and his black Under Armour shirt. Still watching the crowded lobby, he bends over to scratch his knee, and Daffy Duck boxers peek out of his waistband. He wasn’t kidding.
On an adjacent wall near a seating aread, a TV plays the news with two reporters sitting opposite each other on couches. The view changes to a video clip from last night featuring a black-tie gala in Washington, DC, attended by celebrities, politicians, and numerous others. Though the camera’s focused on the President of the United States, I focus on thebackground where Grayson stands beside a man in his early thirties with light hair—Noah Riley.
Laura, I have someone who wants to meet you…
Suddenly I can’t breathe.
West turns then and catches sight of me. “Hey.”
I force a smile. “Hey.”
He surveys my clothes. “Luckily, it’s not too cold out. You should be fine. Let’s get to it.” He takes off toward the front door.
On TV they’ve moved to another story. Slowly, I follow behind West.
