Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
My throat runs dry as I attempt to speak about Marley, the guy who I’ve become so fixated on, thoughts of him are the only things in life that both enrage and sustain me.
“Iggy, what did you do to that boy?” my mom demands when I don’t answer right away.
Her tone irritates me. “Why do you assume I did something and not him?”
“Oh, Iggy, not what I meant, but I worry about Marley. He’s silent in his sensitivity. Men like him feel so deep but live in silence with their pain. You’re so different. I worry about you differently. I’m not worried about silence drowning you, but I am with Marley. With you, my concern is you’ll take stupid risks and hurt yourself living.”
I sit up, alert. “What do you mean?”
“Baby, Marley needs a little extra care. He doesn’t know how to take risks like you. You’ve always done what feels good. You step face-first into situations and work it out while experiencing it. Marley can’t do that. For him, everything in life goes through hundreds of scenarios with all the outcomes, and some of those outcomes seem like a nightmare. It’s a frightening way to live. Imagine if you never took a chance because of the possibility of failure.”
My mother’s words knock me down from my throne of righteous indignation. For the last two weeks, I have been walking around believing myself to be the protagonist of the situation, when I might be the antagonist.
“One day you’re gonna have to teach me how you do that.”
The sound of my mother’s laugh softly permeates my ear. “I don’t think I can, sweetheart. Patience has never been your strong suit.”
The alarm on my cell goes off. “Oh shit, Mom, I gotta go. Gotta get all dolled up for tonight’s concert. I’m gonna see you there, right?”
“Of course, baby. You’re sleeping at the house instead of a hotel, like usual?”
“I’m never going to sleep in a hotel in Portland. I’ll be home after the show. Still got my keys and everything.”
“Also, don’t forget everyone is coming over for dinner tomorrow.”
Dinner with my mom is something I never miss. Not only is my mother the world’s best cook, but there is something exceptional about being surrounded by the familiarity of your childhood when you’ve been living out of a suitcase months on end.
But I can’t shake the feeling my complications with Marley will put a sour taste on it all.
CHAPTER 10
Iggy
“Want a ride?” Lars asks.
“Nah, man, it’s cool. I’m going to my mom’s, not the hotel.”
“I don’t mind the drive,” Lars says. “Get in.”
I wonder if Lars is going to give me a pep talk. Tonight was the worst show I’ve ever played, and that’s including the dive bars I used to play at seventeen. Every single time I glanced at Marley on the other side of the stage, the conversation with my mother kept replaying in the back of my mind. I should’ve walked over and grabbed his dick, played up the usual tactics for the crowd, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
Lars grabs two bottles of water from the fridge in the limo, tossing one of them and hitting me square in the chest. “You gonna tell me what has your panties in a twist or what?”
I glance at him and have an urge to wipe the smug smirk from his pretty boy face. After the show, he asked if we could have a chat and right now, I regret agreeing. “I’m sitting here with you instead of fuckin’ a groupie. Guess that could cause my panties, as you put it, to find themselves twisted up.”
Lars laughs as he takes a sip of his water, his crazy cat eyes almost penetrating through the lies falling effortlessly past of my lips. “I’m corrected. It’s not what, but who. I doubt you’re fucking any groupie at the moment.” Lars leans back and throws his arms over the leather seat. I want to kick his ass, but I’m sure that would cause him to harass me more than he already is. “I suppose it could be a groupie. If that’s the case, make sure Kaye runs a background check.”
“Relax, I’m not going head over heels for a groupie. I’m sure some of them are lovely, but not one has held my attention longer than a night.”
Lars remains silent and his arrogant lips tip up into a smile.
“What are you smirking at?”
“The fact you didn’t deny someone’s crawled up your ass and is fuckin’ you up. So, who is it?” Lars leans forward, lowering his voice. “I’ve been where you’re at. I know it’s fuckin’ scary as hell. Sometimes our own stubbornness can derail our happiness. All I know, man, is if someone burrows themselves this deep under your skin, they’re worth everything. You don’t have to tell me the specifics, but whatever is going on with you is bleeding into the band. It’s for sure fuckin’ up your friendship with Marley, so you need to get it under control.”