Page 39 of The Comedown

“You mean the thing with Bodee, right? Or do you mean you actually have a…” Fuck that. I’m not saying it.

“I mean I have a date tonight, Julian. After the thing with Bodee.”

I press my palms into my eyelids, pushing ’til I see spots behind them. She said it. She fucking said it. Date.

When I drop my hands, Collette’s already walking away, telling me to “Break a leg” but why would I need to do that when she just took out both my legs for me? One word, said two too many times, causing double the motherfucking damage.

Fuck.

Chants of “Julez” come into sharp focus, assaulting my ears in a way they weren’t just a few minutes ago, and I wish I was back on Collette’s bus again. Back to the only quiet I’ve ever found comfort in. The only place I’ve ever felt comfort in.

Maybe even the only person I’ve ever felt comfort in. But she just fucking left me…for a date.

Collette

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there aren’t any rooms available at this time.”

I look up from my phone, finally meeting the receptionist’s stare. We’re the only two people in the entire lobby, and luckily, her expression doesn’t hold an ounce of recognition. Since it’s so late, I figured I could get away with booking a room in the same hotel my team’s using. Even with Holter staying with Bodee tonight, I wouldn’t use my own suite. That’s way too personal.

I should’ve just gone to another hotel, damn it.

“Not even one?” I try again. “It’s just for the night.” Not even a whole night. We’ll be in and out in an hour. If that.

The receptionist shakes her head apologetically, and I blow out a breath, adjusting the beanie on my head. With it pulled low and covering my blonde hair, it’s no wonder she doesn’t recognize me. I don’t go anywhere with my natural hair anymore. That’s why I don’t wear wigs on dates.

“What’s goin’ on, Poohbear?” Julian asks suddenly as he lifts himself to plant his ass on the front desk counter before picking a flower from the hotel’s impressive floral arrangement.

Shit.

There goes my cover. At least I didn’t give her my alias yet.

“Shouldn’t you be on stage?”

“Just got done.”

He does have a suite reserved here, too, but he didn’t even use it last night, so why is he—

He didn’t even use it.

“Hey, is anyone in your room right now?”

Something fiery flashes in his eyes, but he only shrugs, saying, “Probably. Why?”

“I’m trying to book a room, but there’s—”

“No availability?” he guesses correctly, making my eyes narrow on him.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. Guess that ruins your plans.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a fucking joke,” he sneers.

“Whatever he paid you to say this, I’ll double,” I tell the receptionist, no longer concerned with anonymity.

“Ma’am, he’s not—”