Alone, sprawled on a bed with a wilting erection and a half full bottle of Scotch, the rejection stung more than I’d ever feared it would. The two people I wanted didn’t want me, not really. I was useful to them.
No one cared about me.
Taking a mouthful of Scotch, I let the misery and loneliness wrap around me.
This tour was going to be fucking long and lonely, but maybe I could take a page out of Toby’s book and just write myself off so it hurt a little less.
It sounded like a solid plan.
Chapter
Seventeen
Tatum
The industrial washerswirled around and around in a hypnotic wave of soap and water. I wished everything could be washed clean as easily as the band’s laundry.
The hum of the laundromat had lulled me into a meditative state that almost helped me put out of mind how badly I was fucking up my life.
What the hell had I been thinking in making that offer?
I hadn’t. At least, not with my big brain. My vagina was clearly overriding my better judgement.
After our discussion the day before, when Otis had stormed out after defending my honor—I still needed to track him down and make sure he was okay—everyone had disappeared to different corners of the bus, writing, playing, and resting as we got on the road, headed for Mississippi. It had all been a little anticlimactic, to tell the truth. Not that I’d expected all of us to fall into some hedonistic orgy just because I’d offered to fuck anyone whowanted some stress relief, but the way everything had continued on as normal had thrown me off balance.
I needed perspective.
Leaving our laundry to its spin cycle, I stepped outside and pulled up my contacts.
“Bitch, do you know what time it is here?” Ruby’s sleep-roughened voice sent a shudder of relief through my body. She’d know what to do. She always did.
“I need your no-bullshit take,” I said, leaning against the brick facade and idly watching the cars go by.
“Tell me what’s going on while I turn the coffeemaker on.”
While the sounds of a coffee grinder came down the phone, I outlined the troubles I’d had with Harvey’s dick, the general competitiveness of the men, the glory hole incident, and what led me to the solution I’d come up with the day before.
When I’d finished, the line was silent except for the dripping of her machine.
“If I’d known giving head was in your job description, I’d have vetoed our manager and kept you for ourselves.”
Asshole.
“I don’t have the tongue dexterity to eat pussy. Dicks are easy, put your mouth on it and suck.”
A woman in a sundress glanced at me as she passed, and I gave her a saccharine smile. If you don’t appreciate my conversation, how about you mind your own fucking business?
“Ohhhh, honey. Next time I see you, I’m bringing bananas. Cock sucking class will be in session.”
I barked a laugh, thinking of the time in the eighth grade when she’d insisted on giving similar lessons to a classmate who came out to her.
“Can we be serious for a minute?”
“Okay, fine. The thing with Calix sounds like it was seriously hot. Are you sure he didn’t know it was you on the other side of the glory hole?”
“I don’t see how he would have, but that’s not the point. I need help here.”
Ruby’s silence told me she was done teasing me, and the call may actually turn into something productive.
