Gray goes straight for the jugular. I think about my small apartment, my predictable routine, and my safe but lonely life. I think about Gray's words, the exhaustion in his eyes, and the gentleness in his touch. My heart is still racing from him touching my lower back. “Rock and roll, I guess?”
He takes that in for a long moment before he replies, “Rock and roll, yeah. I get it. It’s a lot, all the fucking time.” He chuckles. “I think it’ll always be a wild ride in this industry for everyone involved, but hopefully with age and a little grace, we can learn to navigate the perils a little more easily.”
“The perils… those are my biggest concerns about going on tour” I admit, honestly hoping he’ll realize sooner rather than later that I’m the worst candidate for the job.
A rueful smile blossoms across his handsome face. “Which ones?”
“Mainly, the substances and the people.” I hate to be so general in my description, but those are my fears.
“Substances are everywhere in the world, and a lot of bands have strict 'no hard shit on tour’ rules. I’m even thinking of enacting an alcohol ban backstage. I don’t really want it in my face all the time,” he says, and there’s a sense of hope in his words.
Since it’s my turn to ask a question, I take my time thinking of one that’ll potentially shed a positive light on touring with a rock and roll band. “What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done on tour?”
The waiter approaches with our meals, giving him a brief reprieve from answering me. Once our plates are in front of us and it’s just the two of us again, Gray clears his throat. “Do you mean in a sexual or nonsexual sense? I don’t want to assume anything and make us both uncomfortable.”
“Both?” I’m more surprised than he is by my answer. Did I just come on to Gray Garrison? What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I’ve made it awkward enough for both of us that he’ll renege on the offer to be their tour assistant. Come to think of it, my mortifying answer isn’t the worst idea.
“Nonsexual… I suppose it would be the time I hung out with the crazy drummer from Broken Access. I spent two days off with them in their hometown. He got me to play a game of chicken with his pet alligator, who was named Artie the Alligator.”
I’m not sure which to address first. “The alligator had a name?”
Gray laughs, and it’s so deep and sexy it makes my blood heat. “I guess if it’s a pet, then it needs a name.”
Considering his philosophy for a moment, I nod. “Fair enough. I’m taking it you won the game of chicken since you’re still here.”
“Not exactly, but that’s a story for another day. You had a two-part question, but our food might get cold if we don’t dig in.” He reminds me about the eating part of dinner, so I get to it.
We eat in relative silence, but I grow anxious with every second that passes to hear how sordid Gray Garrison’s sex life is. I mean, it has to be, right? Look at him. By the time he answers the second part of my question, I want to tell him to forget I even asked. No harm, no foul.
“I had a threesome once with two actresses.” He doesn’t say anything else, just waits for me to react.
Managing to keep a passive expression, I simply respond, “Just one?”
He laughs louder than before, amusement dancing in his silvery-blue eyes. “Yes, and the only reason I was involved in it is because I couldn’t read women very well at the time. Like I was completely oblivious it was about to go down until clothes started flying across the room.”
Joining in his laughter, I smile. “I figured you’d have a bedpost full of notches.”
He cringes, and in turn, I cringe. “No notches, Rhea. I’m not that guy. I know it might be hard to believe, but I don’t seek out women very often. Not every rocker is a man-whore.” He doesn’t sound upset, but more like he wants to ensure I know that I’ve got it all wrong.
I can’t be happier about being wrong. If I’m honest, I don’t see Gray as being the type of guy who uses women. “I didn’t mean to sound so stereotypical.”
Waving off my apology, Gray changes the subject. “I suppose I only have two more questions. First, I’d like to know why you play it so safely in life.”
“I’ve been on my own since right after my seventeenth birthday. I’m the only person I have in this world. I guess, it scares me that I might come to depend on anyone or anything like a tour or job or…” I begin.
“Or people?” he asks, finishing my question.
I have the good sense to look ashamed before I reply. “Yeah, people are hard sometimes.”
“Indeed, they are,” he agrees in a way that only a person who’s experienced many hardships can. “There’s more to the story, though. A woman doesn’t become as guarded as you without good reason. I won’t press you today, but I would love to peel back the layers that make you up soon.”
“There’s not much more to the story. I became an orphan at seventeen. I miss my mom, but I put boundaries in place at a young age due to her and my childhood traumas.” I hope this doesn’t sound like a sob story.
“Shit. I’m sorry I pried.” Gray isn’t amused any longer, but genuinely looks like he might throw up.
I wave off his apology. “There’s no need to be sorry. It happened a long time ago. Next year will be ten years.”
“I lost my mom at a young age, too - a bit earlier than you, but I’ve always had my older brother, Andrew. I’m sorry you had to endure the loss of a parent as well.”
