Play (Stage Dive, #2)(42)

“What was that?” He loosened his octopus hold enough to allow me to take a good deep breath. Phew, oxygen, my dear old friend.

“Why don’t you put some clothes on? I’m going to help Lizzy cook breakfast,” I said.

Lizzy watched us with eyes popping out of her head. Fair enough, really. We’d apparently entered some alternative universe where Mal Ericson was all over me like a rash. How mind-bendingly breathtakingly amazing. I needed to make the most of this before he went on tour. Soak up all the memories I could.

“You’re the worst girlfriend I’ve ever had.” He pouted. It shouldn’t have been charming. But of course it was.

“Am I?”

“Yes. The very worst ever.”

“I’m the only girlfriend you’ve ever had.” Fake or not, it was the truth.

“Yeah, you are.” He held my face in his hands and covered it in kisses. Everywhere but my poor, sore lips. I don’t know what I’d done exactly to earn such an outpouring of affection, but I was profoundly grateful for it just the same. My heart up and keeled over; gave up the war. Hopefully my panties were made of sterner stuff. Given last night, I highly doubted it, however.

“We good?” he asked, lips brushing against my cheek.

“We’re great.”

“Okay.”

“Clothes, Mal.”

He laughed and wandered into the spare room, kicking the door shut behind him with some faux Fred Astaire dance move. The man was all class in his snug boxer briefs.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.” Lizzy leaned her shoulder against the kitchen door, watching. “You look kind of stoned.”

“Ha. Yes, he has that effect.”

She had her careful face on. I rarely liked anything I heard when she had her mouth set like that. What with me being the older sibling, I didn’t see it often. But when I did, it was never good. “I um, I didn’t mean to hear what you guys were saying. But your apartment is pretty small.”

“I need you to not ask me any questions about this, please.”

“Just one.”

I agreed to nothing.

“Whatever is going on between you two, this deal you have, is it going to end up hurting you, Anne?”

I hung my head, scuffed the sole of my foot against the floor. My sister and I didn’t lie to each other. It was a rule. One we stuck to without fail. No matter the crap Mom peddled, Lizzy and I were always straight with one another. “I don’t know.”

“You think it’ll be worth it?”

“That’s two questions,” I said with a small smile.

“Call it an early Christmas present.”

“He’s great, Lizzy. He’s so great. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

She nodded slowly, dusted off her hands, and then squeezed them tight. More nervous traits we’d inherited from our crackpot of a mother. “It’s like he’s turned you back on. Getting away from home helped but … he’s found you again or something.”

“Found me? I’ve always been right here, Lizzy.”

“No, you’ve been gone a long time.”

I stared at the floor, lost for words.

“So, I thought you were inviting Reece to join us this morning.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. Talk about a first time for everything. “Shit. I said I’d call him. I totally forgot.”

“Poor, Reece. You know, I think this is going to be character building for him.” Lizzy grinned then stopped and sniffed at the air. “Bacon’s burning!”

We rushed into the kitchen in time to see smoke rising out of the pan and blackened strips of bacon that had shriveled away to nothing. What a waste. I turned off the burner, emptying the remains of breakfast into the sink. Normally, the fridge would be full for our Sunday brunch. But this week I’d been too busy. “Never mind, we’ll have toast instead.”

“Sorry.”

“You two are coming to band practice, right? The guys won’t mind.” Mal walked into the kitchen, still zipping up a gray hoodie. The man belonged in a jeans ad he wore them so well. And I was still hanging out in my elegant sleepwear, unwashed, and with what had to be greasy hair. He peered at the charred mess in the sink. “Lemme guess, I’m taking you out for breakfast after all?”

“No, we’re having toast. You have practice today after that party?” I asked. The merriment of last night had lasted into the early hours. “That’s dedication.”

“Only four more days till the tour kicks off. Time’s a-wasting.” Mal paused. “And we’re going out. You can’t expect me to live on bread and water. You gotta feed your man better than that, woman.”

I did my best not to get weak at the words “your man” and thereby set the feminist movement back fifty years. Proximity to Mal was a dangerous thing. “Sounds great. Let me grab a quick shower.”

“Good idea. I’ll wash your back,” he said, following me into the living room.

“Why don’t you keep Lizzy company?”

“Why don’t I keep you company?” His voice dropped in volume. “I could clean that special place for you with my tongue. Promise I’ll do a good job.”

“Wow. That’s really sweet of you.” Oh, boy. I clutched at the bathroom door handle for support. “Two words for you, Mal. Fatal. Attraction.”