Page 199 of The Comedown

“But David’s a producer.” He travels for work occasionally, but he doesn’t have to. Artists will travel to him just to work with him, and labels will foot the bill because he’s worth it.

Julian stares at me.

“Is that what you want? To be a producer?”

“I want to make all kinds of music. I always have.”

A smile splits my face until my cheeks hurt. “You’d be good at it.”

“And I want a home…” His eyes darken. “…where I’m with my family every night.”

“You’d be good at that, too.” He’s good at anything he tries.

“Shit,” he hisses. “I fucked that up. I want a home where I’m with our family every night.”

“Our family…”

“I told you Imma fill you with babies.”

“But—”

“Since you weren’t living in his guesthouse anymore, David let me stay there while I figured my shit out. It gave me a safe place, away from everyone, to focus on drying out first, then I started going a little crazy with nothing to do, so David taught me about song structure and making beats. Once I proved to myself I could stay sober and I had something to keep me busy, I decided it’d be a good spot for recovering, too. I rescheduled the appointment I blew off after The Family Julez Tour wrapped, and I got the reversal.”

His vasectomy.

“Did it work?”

“Wanna find out?”

We hold each other’s eyes, neither of us sure what the correct move here is. Do we? Don’t we? We both want to, but…

Does that mean we should?

“Tell me about you,” he says, sitting on the bed and patting the space next to him.

Instead of sitting down on a hotel bed, only inches away from Julian, the sexiest man I’ve ever met, I lean back against the wall, sticking my hands in my pockets, then I talk to him. I tell him all about the last seven months. The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful.

“No more baby food?”

“No more baby food.”

“No more of that tasting bullshit?”

Remembering what he said that one time in the limo, I quirk an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle.

“No. I eat regularly now.”

He grows serious to question, “No more touring?”

I give my head a soft shake. “Nothing planned.”

“Where’s Holter? I thought he’d be here with you.”

“With the trial still going on, we’ve both been lying low. This is my first time doing an event since The Mousais actually.”

“Bodee’s getting the shit kicked out of him. The press are eating him alive.”

“Yeah.” I glance at my toes in my strappy high heels. “All this time I thought I’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but it turns out, semen is the most effective.”