“Nope!” she called back over her shoulder. “Make yourself useful and write a hit song or something.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll try.”
Xander snickered.
“Goodbye, ladies!” Summer called.
“’Bye, Summer! Nice to meet you, everyone!” I called back. “Enjoy the treats!”
“Oh, we will,” Summer said.
Then my lunch date tugged me out the door… and I wondered what Cary would think of the fact that I’d just gifted the band—and his staff—enough edibles to get them seriously fucking high, for like a month straight.
Crap.
Chapter Thirteen
Taylor
Load Me Up
That evening, I was alone in the poolhouse while Cary worked late.
I put on his vortex playlist while I did my pre-jog stretches; he’d sent it to me just after dinner, minutes after I finally sent him mine.
See, I texted him back, it’s not so easy, is it?
Of course, it had only taken him two days to do his.
When I heard the first song, “Load Me Up” by Matthew Good Band, I may have squealed a bit and texted him again.
Me: I LOVE MATTHEW GOOD!!!
Cary: One of Gabe’s favorites.
I enjoyed the first few songs on the playlist so much, I kept it playing in my earbuds when I headed out for my jog.
I only got as far as the backyard, though, then hesitated. I looked up at the house. And decided to do some more stretches while I considered my options.
At lunch, I’d talked things through with Danica. And she seemed zero-percent surprised that I’d had sex with Cary already. Her only concern seemed to be that I didn’t end up “going over to the dark place.”
When I asked her what dark place she meant, she said, “The one you always tumble into for a few days after you see your crazy parents, or when you know some jerk is about to break your heart.”
“I thought you said my family isn’t crazy.”
“I say a lot of things because I love you.”
“Hmm. And who said I’m getting my heart broken?” I asked her. “I didn’t say I’m in love. I said I like him. Baby steps.”
“Right,” she said, sounding overly perky and agreeable, because she loved me.
When we parted ways after lunch, she gave me a hug and said, “Don’t let him hurt you, okay? You went through enough over the winter with Dominic.”
“Let’s not speak his name.”
“Done.”
“And who knows? Maybe this one will turn out to be my knight in shining armor?”
She gave me a sweet but very uncertain look, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “Let’s talk soon.”
I was kind of annoyed that she seemed to just assume I was getting hurt here. I was pretty sure she figured Cary was some sort of hot rock star rebound thing. He doesn’t seem like your type was the way she’d put it.
What, successful, attractive and wealthy? I said.
No, sweetie. I meant overly complicated.
She wasn’t wrong about that. I’d really been working on purging the overcomplicated types from my life in recent times.
I liked him. The sex yesterday was incredible. But I had this tread carefully feeling prickling through me on a pretty regular basis, warning me not to get carried away.
When I got home with his takeout after lunch and told him I’d met his staff, saw the band, and brought them a spontaneous gift basket, he seemed pleased. When I told him that I’d also picked up a shit ton of edibles for them, he seemed less pleased. He didn’t say anything about it, but I could tell that it irritated him a little.
Because I’d made the decision without him?
Because now maybe the band would be getting high for days on end and be less productive?
I wasn’t sure. So I just said I was sorry if that was a bad idea, and he said it was okay.
That was it. No further discussion.
I’d spent the rest of the day working in the great room on my laptop while Cary worked in the control room. I’d told him about how nice Little Black Hole was, about the space where the Players were working, gently encouraging him to go down there sometime and check it out. I even offered to go with him.
But after that, he didn’t seem to want to talk much.
I knew he was working and I should leave him alone. But I wondered if he would ever really talk to me about the things that bothered him.
He’d endured my questions about agoraphobia and stage fright, but I was already picking up on the pattern—that he pretty much changed the subject whenever something came up that he didn’t