“Relax, Mitzy.” Skye’s gaze cuts to the monitor beeping over my head. “It was a tiny blip, and once we got you warmed up, all was good. You were in intensive care for the first two days.”
“Why don’t I remember any of this?”
“Most people have problems connecting memories in an ICU. Don’t worry about it. Forest and I were with you the entire time.”
“What about Noodles?”
“He never came to the hospital.” She cocks her head and reaches down to take my hand in hers. “Is there someone I need to call?”
“No.” I could have Skye call my old boss, Kate Summers, but I hate to bother her. There’s nothing she can do.
Seven
Noodles
That damn melody runs through my head. Annoying as fuck, but like sand running through my fingers, I can’t seem to hold onto it.
Soulful and weary, that music holds power. If I can get the melody line down, maybe I’ll remember the damn words.
“What’s got you all twisted in knots?” Spike splashes me from the pool. He and Ash square off against Bash and Bent in a gnarly game of water polo. I’m not allowed to join.
They cite ‘unfair advantage’ as I can hold my breath forever and swim laps around all of them. I settle in as unofficial referee, which means sitting poolside with a smoothie in my hand.
“I’m not twisted into any fucking knots.”
Spike slams his hand across the water, sending another drenching arc of water toward me. I soak it all in, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. Besides, it’s hot, and the water feels good.
“You’ve been tied tight the past few days.” Ash chimes in. His distraction costs him a goal as Bash slam dunks and scores.
“I’m chill.” I’m totally not chill. My thoughts are a swarming mess.
“Dude, your energy is off.” Bent uses air quotes, teasing me. None of them buy into my philosophy, but they tolerate it.
“You wouldn’t know energy if it slapped you in the face.” My retort is weak. My heart’s not into a verbal sparring match.
“Whatever, dude. Something’s off.” Bent catches the ball Bash tosses at him.
The water polo they play is nothing like the real game. We’ve bastardized the rules over the years until it no longer represents anything close to the original.
One of the rare times we’re all at Insanity together. We’re kicking back, chick free, which practically never happens anymore. It reminds me of when we first started out, hanging at my backyard pool.
I miss those days.
The guys are right, although I won’t admit it. Something’s off.
Very off.
All I can think about is Mitzy.
It’s a constant barrage, slamming into me, tunneling through me, making me ache for her, kind of a thing.
I’m not attracted to Mitzy.
At least, that’s the lie I keep telling myself. But why? Why now?
I found her downright distasteful. Her energy, a frazzled mess of chaos. Her biting tongue stinging and harsh.
Now?
Those are not the thoughts in my head.
Maybe I’m projecting. Like these thoughts are spillovers brought on by the rescue. Perhaps that’s all this is.
Stunning, in a nonconventional way, the girl is a knockout. She doesn’t give a shit what other people think, which I like. Her feistiness and no fucks given attitude is downright honest. I admire that.
Her psychedelic, spiky hair goes in line with the no fucks thing. An image of her mesmerizing eyes rolls through my mind. A man could get lost in those eyes. At least, he could if she gave him the chance.
Her sharp tongue is a defense mechanism. If she’d lower her walls and let a guy in…
What the fuck?
I give a sharp shake of my head, not sure where that thought came from.
It’s the rescue. I’m overthinking and projecting from there. I feel responsible for her. It’s weird as shit, but we’re connected now. Our energies merged during that whole ordeal.
Ash lunges for Bent, trying to steal the ball. Water splashes all over me—again, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Bent’s right.” Ash comes up spitting. “You’re super intense, thinking hard about something, but you don’t like it. What happened to laid-back Noodles?”
Laid-back Noodles is fucked in the head right now thinking about a girl he can’t seem to get out of his head.
“No fucking panties to twist.”
“You need pussy.” Ash splashes me. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
There used to be a time I didn’t need to go out to get laid. The chicks came here and we fucked them all day long and through the night. Those days are gone; another thing which has changed around here.
“You definitely need to get laid.” Spike lunges for the ball but Bent palms his face and dunks him.
Like Spike can say anything about carrying around stress. He needs to blow off more steam than me, and as for going out and getting laid by some nameless chick, that doesn’t appeal to me.
Spike disappears below the water. A second later, Bent’s head goes under as Spike yanks his feet out from under him.
Not much is said after that. The game develops into an all-out brawl as my bandmates try to drown one another. I move back from the edge.
It’s a perfect California day with endless sunshine and temperatures in the high eighties. I should be in the water.
They’re right. I’m wound up.
I need to work Mitzy out of my system. Maybe that’s all I need? Fuck the chick and move on.
I should be out riding the waves, but Ash called a band meeting. Mitzy? She’s still in the hospital, and I’ve made a point of not visiting her.
As for our band meeting, it’s chaos, but then most of them are these days. Plagued with constant interruptions: chicks, kids, or something else, we struggle to focus.
I head back to the poolside bar and mix another mango smoothie. It’s my favorite.
That damn melody runs through my head again. I want to show it to the guys. It’s powerful, perfect for the new album.
Behind me, all pretense of playing a game goes out the window as it becomes a free for all dunk-a-thon in the pool. I take a seat under the covered veranda and sip my drink.
A soft sound behind me catches my attention. The girls aren’t supposed to be back from shopping until after dinner. I glance over my shoulder, then suppress a groan.
Mitzy gives a little finger wave.
“Hi.” A tentative smile curves her rosebud lips.
I give her a long, hard look. Everything about the chick is sexy. Especially the way she licks her lips and gives them a tiny nibble.
I imagine licking those lips before plunging my tongue inside her mouth to get a taste of her. I bet she tastes fucking good.
Fuck.
“Yo!” I nearly make a mistake and go with ‘What’s up?’ But I shut that down real quick. I’m not interested in a conversation. Not with that kiss running through my head. My dick stiffens. Great, just what I don’t need. A boner in fucking board shorts.
I place my smoothie over my lap and grit my teeth.
She stands behind me, hovering over my shoulder. It pisses me off because if I look forward, it’s obvious I’m ignoring her. Which is what I want to do, but I don’t want her to know I’m doing it. I definitely don’t want her to see my current aroused and erect state.