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I’m not doing any particular song, just following a melody that’s been running through my head for the last couple of days.
My mind wanders away from me as I pluck at the strings trying to get a feel for the sound. I’m too distracted to be creative right now. I’m still chasing the kind of bassline that I want, and I’m frustrated I can’t get there, so I switch to playing something else just to exercise my fingers and keep busy.
I go through some classic badass basslines. I play the intros from ‘Phantom of the Opera’ by Iron Maiden, then from ‘Come As You Are’ by Nirvana and 'Give it away' by Red Hot Chili Peppers, and then from ‘Uprising’ by Muse.
I eventually settle on fiddling with the bassline that opens ‘Under Pressure’ by David Bowie and Queen, my index rolling back and forth between the ‘D’ and the ‘G’ string.
Half of my brain is on my bass, the rest is focused on this thing with Mia and my work, and the one thing I really don't want to think about is the fact that I'm going to have to leave for a couple of days soon enough.
Rick and Sly have been back in LA for a few days now. I should have gone myself, but I just couldn’t think about leaving Mia. Every time I tried to think about getting my ass on my jet, my heart revolted and got stuck in my throat to the point of making me feel fucking sick.
Mia and I have been spending every waking moment together, either at her tiny ass apartment or here in my suite.
Hell, I would have stayed at her place with her for good. I hate to think she has to do away with more comfortable surroundings to be at a stupid hotel. No matter how luxurious this room is, it can't be a real, lived-in home, but I've got too much fucking gear with me, and her place's too small for me to bring even half of it there.
Rationally, I know I've gotta get a grip on myself and just ease my life with Mia into a normal routine, and that means also letting her go to work or to school or, fuck, to see her brother and niece. And it also means accepting the fact that we can't stay together all the time and that I'm going to have to make it to the airport at some point and then, from there, all the way to LA.
My friends have been picking up the slack. They’ve been interviewing for a new PR representative and a new tour manager. They have been sending me résumés and shit. And, meanwhile, they’ve been running interference with the Press and the bigshot director that's working on the storyboard of our video and, apparently, can’t seem to be able to go three fucking minutes without having to talk to one of us for some fucked-up reason, only to end up rejecting all of the ideas we have on the damn vid in the first place anyway.
I’ve crossed all the things that I could get away with doing from afar from my list, and I handled most of the rest via conference meetings. Now the remotely doable items are running out, and I’ll have to get on that damn flight by the end of the week one way or another and then stay put in LA for at least forty-eight hours.
I know I have to. And I’m going to. But do I have to like it? Fuck, no! I’m giving myself the freedom to act like a lovesick teenager and hating every single moment of it.
* * *
Mia makes wakingnoises behind me, and a moment later, her arms come around me.
I turn to the side, smile at her, and start to put my bass away. “Hey, baby…”
She gives me a kiss on one shoulder and shakes her head.‘Please keep playing,’she mouths.
I’m puzzled at her request, and she must see it on my face because she immediately explains, lips moving carefully so I can follow:
‘Can’t hear, but still can feel the vibrations of it… bass and drums are the instruments I feel the most… and if you play sitting on the bed like this, I can feel the vibes under me through the mattress and all around me.’
I don’t know why, but the notion kind of makes my cock twitch and take notice. I bend down to kiss her, then go back to my bass and start playing one of our own tracks.
I feel Mia’s head come to rest in the middle of my shoulder blades, lips planting a little soft kiss on my naked skin as one of her hands moves up the neck of my bass. Her fingers reach my hand and rest there for a moment, then her hand slides down my chest and to my waist and holds me there.
The simple touch is so sweet and sexy it makes me want to both pull her into my chest and hug her for an hour and throw her to her back on the bed, and pound inside of her for a week. I love it.
I go through some of my own basslines, humming to myself just to keep my head and my focus on the song so I can resist the urge to turn around and kiss the hell out of her.
After a little bit, she taps my arm. I stop plucking at the strings and twist my head to the side and down, looking at her in question.
Mia sits back a little and starts to sign and mouth at the same time.‘Carson, can you sing to me?’
I don’t know what to say, so I just nod and start to sing to her.
She plasters herself to my back, draping her arms over mine and resting her cheek sideways against my nape. She’s trying to get as close to me as she can. I feel like if she could, she would be burrowing into my skin and into my heart right now.
And God, I wish she really could.
I wish we could be that close.
I sing with my full voice so she can feel it against her cheek and gently sway my body and hers from side to side.
She follows my rhythm, moving with me, her hands stroking up and down my arms.
