Page 33 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

“See ya,” he says.

Damien hangs up and looks down at me. “Do you want to come to the studio with me?”

“I shouldn’t,” I say, frowning.

“Why not?” he asks, looking adorably crestfallen.

“Because I tend to be a little more prone to seizures right after I’ve had one,” I say. “And I don’t want to ruin your creative process by being a distraction. Believe it or not, the idea of irritating any of your bandmates makes me want to evaporate.”

“Right. Right. Makes sense,” he says. There’s a bit of a pause before he inhales and blows the air out slowly. “So... Can I come by after we’re done for the day?” he asks. “I mean, you can say no. It will be probably be late—”

“Come back when you’re done,” I say, a little too quickly. “You can stay the night again if you want to.”

His brows shoot up and that easy smile comes to his face again. “Yeah?” he says. “Just me? Or should I bring Oren too?”

My flush returns with traitorous ease and he laughs, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my lips.

“No. I don’t think I want to share you yet, actually. He can come some other time. Pun intended.” He beams a boyish grin.

Pure. Unadulterated. Evil.

ㅤ

Damien’s hand is firm and large as it encompasses my chin, holding me still as his tongue traces the soft, swollen line of my lower lip. I let out yet another soft sigh, careful to keep my feet squarely within the threshold of the front door of the shop.

“Damien, stop playing tonsil hockey and get in the fucking van!” Satoshi says from somewhere behind him.

Damien breaks the kiss, his eyes hooded and warm as he looks down at me like he’s got nowhere to go. It’s overwhelming, how openly into me he is. I’m not sure what to do with myself if I’m honest. “You sure I shouldn’t just give up my life as a musician and stay here kissing you all day?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I sigh, nibbling on my lower lip. “If you don’t keep making music, I’m not going to have anything to listen to while I’m pining over you and the days of yore when I had a torrid affair with a handsome drummer.”

“I can’t say I hate the idea of you pining over me,” he says.

“Well you’re in luck,” I say. “Because—”

I wince as a shrill honk sounds, long and exaggerated and loud.

Damien sighs, his eyes darkening with anger as he looks back over his shoulder. “Would you fuck off, man?” he barks out.

“It’s fine—you should go. You have to get to work,” I say. “But you’re coming back later, right?”

“Right,” he says, his soft regard returning when he smiles down at me.

Of course I hate to say goodbye to Damien. Spending last night and this morning with him has been the most fun I’ve had in months. I desperately want to go with him and see what it is my favorite band does behind the scenes. But I know what awaits me outside the wards carved into the foundations of my family home. It’s only disaster, and it would destroy me if any of them got hurt because of me.

“You sure you’re alright here on your own? I can wait for you to call a friend so you have someone to help you if you seize,” he says.

“I’m fine, Damien. No auras on the horizon. I’m just going to go upstairs and rest for the day,” I say. “Go get in the van before Satoshi murders us both.”

He groans and leans in to give me one more lingering kiss, this one fast and searing and overwhelming to the point where I almost stumble out the door with him. But as fast as it started, it ends with a kiss on my forehead.

“See you tonight,” he says.

“See you.”

I watch him get into the van and I see him swat Satoshi up the back of the head. I hear Roxie cackle as they drive off from the curb then watch as the van wobbles and swerves like a battle is taking place inside the vehicle. I watch it vanish around a corner before promptly racing upstairs to my apartment and grabbing my phone off its charger.

I call up a very familiar number, tapping it on my “favorites” bar in my contacts.