Page 74 of Dirty Rock

Me: I sent them because I miss you. Because you’re hurting. Because your sister is hurting. Because I walked away when I should have stayed and argued. Because I think you should be back with the band. Because I miss you. Did I say that already?

It took her ten minutes to respond.

Julia: What is happening to you?

Me: I’m high on Speed.

Julia: I’ve quit, Rhett.

Me: Then why are you still texting me like you’re around?

Julia: Go find fun with someone else.

Me: I will. If that’s what you want. If you can tell me that the thought of my head between another woman’s legs doesn’t make your stomach twist up in knots just a little bit, then I will. But you have to be honest.

Julia: I don’t know what I want anymore.

Me: Have you touched yourself since I left?

Julia: Stop.

Me: Good to know.

My smile was ridiculous. She had touched herself. I imagined her on those bedsheets we’d rolled in, and I instantly got hard at the daydream of me thrusting into her floated through her mind.

The dots went frantic on my phone, tiny little bursts of activity where I could imagine her in a rage of telling me off, only for her to pause and delete everything she’d typed out before starting again.

It was time to strike before she struck me off completely.

Me: It’s eating you up, baby. You can’t find something strong to say, and you’re so afraid of sounding weak.I don’t know what you want. If it isn’t me, then that’s okay, but you should know a few things before you make up your mind: I want you.

Me: I really fucking want you, Jules.

Me: I see youeverywhere.I close my eyes, you’re there. I shower, you’re there. I brush my teeth, you’re there. I wrap my hand around my dick. You’re there. In every TV show. In every song. In every waking fucking thought and all the ones in between when I sleep, and I’m telling you… I no more know what to do with that than you do. All I do know is that it feels easier to tell you the truth than to lie to you.

Me: So, quit playing hardball.

Me: And come to me.

I waited a minute, unable to remove the smile from my face as I reached for another drink, untwisted the cap, and sank a random shot of vodka. I didn’t even need it. I was drinking because I was bored, turned on, and alone. I was drinking because it was a habit. If she’d have been there in front of me, I’d have thrown every drop of alcohol out of the window and lapped her up instead. She was the only thing that could quench my thirst.

Julia: You’re going to hurt me.

My smile fell, and I stared at those five words like they were five tiny daggers that had the power to pierce my heart.

Me: Yeah. Maybe.

Honesty. I had to give her that.

Me: But what if I don’t?

She didn’t respond, and I found myself watching the phone like a lovestruck teenager who was waiting for the high school cheerleader to confirm she was willing to hand over her virginity. Her words. I needed them. Whatever form they came in, I needed them.

I rattled off the address of where I was staying, and then I tossed my phone aside, closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the sofa. I’d done all I could do for tonight. I’d think of something else tomorrow. Something a little less desperate and a lot more effective.

She couldn’t resist me for long. I wouldn’t let her.

Like every drug I’d ever taken.

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