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“You’re so lawn at dawn.” He could feel her trying not to crack up.
They got through reception, flashing their membership tags, and stopped in the corridor separating the women’s and men’s change rooms. She gave him a shove towards the men’s. It only took a few minutes to find an empty locker, stow his bag, take his water bottle, earplugs and towel out, and meet her again.
When they got to the cardio floor, Taylor started laughing. “I might get my wish.”
“Which one?”
“You on the floor, treadmill stack. They’ve put new equipment in since last time we were here.”
He groaned. The new machines would have new programs and interfaces; feel dissimilar underfoot and in his hands. All his regular settings would be redundant. Taylor was still laughing when they stepped onto side by side machines.
He felt around the console, identified the main stop, start buttons and the one to increase and decrease speed. “Where’s the earphone jack?”
She leaned over and plugged him in and then they were both off, running for the next twenty minutes. It was the same on the elliptical and the rowing machine, getting the speeds and tensions set the way he wanted them to test his fitness was a nuisance. It’d be less frustrating if he’d had more sleep. Maybe. It was easier in the free weights room. Everything familiar again. By the time Taylor flicked him on the chest with her towel to say she’d had enough, he was light-headed and needed grease.
They went to the food court adjacent the gym and he scarfed a hamburger with the lot and a strong black coffee and Taylor told him about the gigs she’d been auditioning for and joked about her day job, but she wouldn’t tell him who the perfume was for.
“You still want to surprise the guys?” she said, on the way to the car.
He did. He’d been away too long this time and it didn’t feel like he was home till he reconnected.
“Can I shower and change at yours?”
Bummed, she still felt she had to ask. “Only if you don’t use the new perfume.”
There was silence except for the engine kicking over. “Was it really that bad?”
She’d lost the ginger sting, she was all wet sugar disappointment, and despite the fact it’d made him sneeze he’d do almost anything not to hear Taylor sound defeated over a stupid fragrance.
“Nah, it wasn’t that bad, Trill,” he used her pet name, knowing she’d still think he was lying. “I probably picked up a bug on the plane. Let me put it on you when you’re ready.”
And she did. When they were both showered and dressed to go again, he sprayed just the right amount of perfume on his fingertip and painted it at the crook of her elbow, behind her left ear and in what little cleavage she had. He didn’t stop to think touching her there might be inappropriate. They touched each other casually all over the place and had since forever, but never with intimacy in mind. But she took a sharper draw on her breath and it made him tense, pull his hand away too fast, as if her skin might burn him.
She caught his hand and brought it to her chest. “I missed you.”
He felt the steady rhythm of her breathing, her heart pumped under his wrist. “I always miss you.”
If she’d taken the job as his assistant, travelling with him, looking after his bookings, transport and accommodation, this would be easier, but she’d seen through it, too proud to accept his help. She’d used the excuse of needing to be available for auditions, and while it was a fair call, he hated the fact he was raking in the money and she was struggling in a retail job where the shifts were short and too infrequent.
He should’ve asked her to move in with him before now. For Taylor he’d sacrifice his privacy and he was hardly home for more than a few weeks at a time anyway. He’d ask her this time, but he needed to pick his moment.
She released his hand. “You don’t have to rehearse, you know.”
He kissed her forehead and though his nose itched, he didn’t sneeze. “Can’t wait to see everyone.” The guys bent the rules so much for him, it was the least he could do to front for a run-through before a show when he was in town.
They listened to the radio, a pop station on the way to Moon Blink, singing the chorus to some new hit that didn’t have many more words than, get it in, get it up, get it out, get it over, delivered in a tongue twisting syncopated rap beat. He had the singer’s intonation down the third time the line came around. It was a good warm up.
Moon Blink lived up to its namesake. It was cool and dark inside the club. He bumped into a table before Angus almost hugged him off his feet.
“Vox! When did you get home?”
Arms pinned, he could smell the beer on Angus, but on his clothes, not on his breath. He’d been cleaning up, which meant someone hadn’t shown up for their shift and Angus had to fill in again. Nothing glamorous about owning a bar. “Last night. Figured you wouldn’t mind if I crashed rehearsal.”
Angus steered him to the bar and there was coffee in front of him before he took a seat. Taylor slid in beside him.
“So Trill, you kept this one to yourself?”
Angus was irritated. Damon closed his eyes as the coffee hit the back of his throat, as the beginnings of jet lag made itself known. No sound came out of Taylor, she would’ve shrugged.
