“Please,” I say.
“Good boy. Come on me.” Her shirt is unbuttoned, her torso exposed. I spill myself on her, and it’s like seeing stars. She smiles at me and pulls me in for a kiss.
“Let me clean you up,” I tell her, and she nods as I gingerly get up and go over to the sink. There are some wet wipes and paper towels on the counter, and I clean myself off before I go to her. I clean my mess, and she practically purrs. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes,” I say in her ear. “Your hands are magic.”
I cuddle up to her and breathe in that sweet strawberry shampoo as I kiss her a dozen times on her temple. I must have drifted off to sleep, because I’m startled awake by Connie’s movement as she attempts to climb out of bed, her phone buzzing on the counter.
“No,” I whisper and hold her closer.
“We can’t get caught,” she says. She kisses me, and I begrudgingly let her go.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I won’t be far,” she tells me. I start to drift off again, but I hear her, and I don’t know if she means for me to. “Please don’t be too good to be true, Eric.”
23 - Connie - Now
I’m so proud of Lilli. The show has been amazing every night, and she’s been doing a great job. At first, I was a little nervous when she suggested changing the closing song each night, but it has been a hit. This is the last show until next week, and the crowds have been phenomenal. Lilli has persistently asked me to sing with her every single night, and every night, I refuse.
I try not to get too distracted. Michael keeps making eyes at me, and honestly, it’s getting annoying. He seemed so chill at the party last week, but now, I feel like he's some kind of big cat, lying in wait until I show weakness.
But that’s ridiculous. After her set, Lilli comes over to me, all smiles and glitter. She likes checking her phone after performances, texting her mom and sister. When we get into the dressing room, I do my personal assistant duty of making sure she hydrates.
“I can’t believe we only have one more weekend of shows left,” Lilli says as she starts changing her clothes.
“I know, it’s going by so fast.” Which is true. I haven’t even dared to think beyond this tour. What would that mean for me and Eric? It’s like Festival all over again: our time togetherhas a predestined end date. The tour – at least Lilli and my reason for being here – will end soon, and then Eric and I will be forced to go our separate ways once again. Lilli and I will go back to writing songs in the apartment and trying to get a record deal. I’m grateful to know I have her in my corner, no matter what happens with Eric.
“I’m so proud of you, Lilli. I don’t say it enough,” I say, and she blushes slightly. “I want you to know that I’m so glad we’re here together, and I look forward to where we’re going.” Lilli looks at me, her eyes wide with glee, a tight-lipped smile on her mouth, like she’s keeping something in.
“What’s up? You’re being weird.”
Lilli shakes her head to expel a nervous energy. “I really think you should sing with me next week.”
“I don’t perform anymore. I leave that to the professionals,” I say, gesturing to her.
Lilli sits down in front of me, all serious business. “When are you going to start living your dream?”
“I am very happy with my life,” I object. I’m taken aback by her sudden shift. We should be celebratingher, not squabbling about my career.
“Connie, you want more than this. I know you do.” Her eyes bore into mine, and I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words. Lilli places a hand on my knee, and something about the gesture makes me want to cry. “It’s time to stop living in the shadows, Connie. I want this for you, but you need to want it for yourself.”
She’s giving me her entire focus. “I don’t know what you want from me,” I say.
“I don’t want anything from you. I just wish you’d take advantage of the opportunity.”
Lilli sits back up and takes a drink of her water. She’s still half dressed in her biker shorts and bra, no shoes, face still covered in show makeup.
“Can you focus on getting unready?” I shift gears. “I got you a new pack of facewipes.”
Lilli grabs her makeup removing oil and starts rubbing it across her face, breaking down the mascara and eyeshadow. When she pulls out a facewipe, she turns to use the mirror by the sink, her back to me.
“I wanted to tell you about something,” Lilli says, her focus on gently removing the mascara schmutz from under her eye. “But you have to promise not to be mad.”
If I were a cat or dog, my hair would stand on end. What could it be? Was she seeing someone? Did I miss something? Maybe I’ve been too consumed with thoughts of Eric that I failed to notice Lilli going through something? Was it good? Or bad? Or was this her telling me Eric and I hadn’t been as discreet as we thought? Did she know? Maybe I should tell her before things get out of hand.
“I need to tell you about something too,” I say, trying to hide my gnawing anxiety. I should say it first, but what if she doesn’t know and I blow Eric’s cover? Cost him his job? “You go first,” I chicken out.
