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I glanced at Alys, who shrugged. “Hard logic to argue with,” she said.
And now my mind was drifting back to yesterday. Sex with Alys was always fun, but that had been different. More in a way I couldn’t define beyond that. Not that the three of us would make a habit of it, but I also wouldn’t mind if it happened again.
We got comfortable on my bed, with me sitting cross-legged, Alys tucking her legs to the side, and Maddox stretching his out in front of him. It wasn’t an idyllic painting of people in the park, or Norman Rockwell, but to me, it was a pretty good sight.
“Album covers.” It seemed Maddox was going to keep brainstorming, which was fine with me. “We could go with a naked theme.”
Alys frowned. “Or, we could not.”
“But… But… Naked.” Maddox made it sound like that was all the reason he needed.
Though I suspected he was having fun more than being serious. “Or we could save the naked time for the three of us.” That wasn’t where I meant to go with my response, but I did like the sound of more of that level of intimacy.
Maddox scrunched up his face, then relaxed. “I guess. As long as I get to play either way.”
Yeah, I’d definitely repeat the fun we had yesterday. “I’m not taking it off the table, unless we don’t come up with our six covers.”
“Let’s decide then.” The way Maddox shifted, his posture straightening and the teasing vanishing from his voice, was like a switch had been flipped. This was the Maddox who took the topic at hand seriously, and it wasn’t just because of the vague promise of nakedness.
This meant something to him.
“Nakedness is novel, but it’s not super creative,” Maddox said. “What about Follow the Leader?”
Painted image of a hopscotch dirt path up a cliff side with a girl at the edge? Definitely distinct.
“Intriguing.” Alys tilted her head. “We’d need to recreate the path.”
“We could paint it.” Well, we couldn’t. But we knew artists.
Maddox pulled his phone out. “Taking notes. “We could build it, either full-sized, or probably scale model, and do a sort of double exposure with Alys at the end.”
“I’m not modeling for all of these.”
I understood where Alys was coming from, and I wasn’t going to push the issue, as much as I enjoyed watching her as a general rule.
“I agree.” Maddox jabbed at his phone. “I want to be on at least a few.”
A few as if we were doing an entire collection of them. Still, “You could shave your head and do Journeys’ Frontiers with the right makeup,” I said.
Maddox raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not cutting off this amazing mop. I’d wear a skullcap though. Are we voting for those two?”
Were we? I exchanged a questioning look with Alys.
“If we list all the covers we think are cool, it’ll take us a century to narrow them down,” she said.
I tended to agree. “So long as we have ideas, let’s go with the first we think of.”
“Then we have our first two.” Maddox made a note of it.
Within the next hour or so, we had our full list. The other four albums were Rush, Exit Stage Left. Beastie Boys, Paul’s Boutique. The Rascals, Once Upon a Dream. The Motels, Shock.
I was disappointed we had to end there—we had so many more great designs to pick from—but that proved Alys’s earlier point. We had to stop now, or we’d be doing this for years.
We spent more time getting together rough ideas for how we’d make each one happen, and relaxed more and more until we were laying on each other and next to each other as the buzz of the day faded, and exhaustion sank in.
I could get used to waking up next to Alys and Maddox.
Except that I couldn’t, because in less than a month I was leaving.
