Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
The guy points at my sweatshirt. And when I look down and see the White Sox emblem on my chest, everything makes sense.
“Oh. Yeah.” I look back up. “I’m from the South Side. Born and raised.”
“Right on. I’m from Bridgeport. Go, Sox.”
“Hell yeah.” I fist-bump the guy and then point my chin at Ruby. “She’s from Evanston.”
“Ah, so you’re a Cubs fan, then?” He flashes me a knowing look about Ruby’s hometown suburb that’s right outside the city limits of Chicago. It’s not a foolproof formula, but generally speaking, White Sox fans tend to be blue collar and from the South Side, like Kai, Savage, and me—and this guy, apparently. Cubs fans like Ruby’s family tend to be yuppies and rich folks from areas like the North Side and the ’burbs.
“My family has always loved the Cubbies,” Ruby confirms. “But personally, I don’t give two shits about sports.”
The guy acknowledges Ruby’s comment with a chuckle, but a second later, his smile is trained back on me. “You look like you play sports.”
“Nope. Drumming is my only sport.”
Ruby touches my hand. She knows what happened to end my football dreams well enough to know I don’t want to talk about it with this guy or anyone else.
“Awesome. Okay, well, I’ll get those drinks started for you.”
“Thanks.”
As the bartender leaves, Ruby says, “Wouldn’t it be amazing if there was a fast-forward button that would let us to jump straight to the part where someone already knows us well, so we wouldn’t have to sit through all the small talk to get there?”
“Sign me up.”
“But also, they wouldn’t think knowing you well before sex means that sex suddenly turns everything into an instant happily ever after? What’s the rush, dude? Why so serious? Some of us are young and not at all ready to settle down, you know? Je-zus.”
When she looks at me for a reply, I mutter, “Yup. Gimme that button. Sounds amazing to me.”
Ruby gasps. “You’re ready to settle down?”
I don’t know how she got that from my body language. Because, no, I’m not ready for that. Not at all. “No. Why did you say that?”
“Because you looked like you were lying.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. If I met the right person, I’d maybe be ready to settle down. But I’m also sick to death of dating total strangers, so I don’t see how that’ll ever happen.”
Ruby ponders that. “Well, on your quest to find The One, don’t bother dating a friend. At least, in my experience, it’s a terrible idea.”
“So, what then? You’re saying I’m gonna die alone?”
Ruby giggles. “No. You’re irresistible. You’ll meet the right person.” She pauses. “But if you don’t, you’ll never be alone, my darling. I’ll be right there with you, holding strong.” She raises her empty glass. “Amazing or nothing.”
I clink her empty with mine. “Amazing or nothing.”
The bartender arrives with our next round. And this time, he takes the hint and skedaddles quickly.
“Cheers,” Ruby says, clinking my new glass with hers.
“Cheers.”
“How’s your knee, by the way? Has it been bothering you from last night’s rain?”
“It’s fine.” I reflexively place a palm on my knee.
“Could your knee be affecting your sleep?”
“The knee is fine. I’ve just been having trouble turning off my brain for some reason.”
“So it really must be that you’re horny and sex-starved, and that quarterback stole your dream. I mean, who wouldn’t have insomnia under those circumstances?”
Ruby’s the smartest person I know, so I’m surprised she keeps overlooking the obvious. Cooper. He’s the first boyfriend Ruby’s ever invited to join our tour, and I really, really didn’t like having him around. I didn’t like watching the possessive way he treated Ruby. Didn’t like watching him sitting around writing songs with her for his band to use. Didn’t like his penchant for PDA. And on and on.
I scoff. “I don’t have trouble sleeping at home, even when I’m sex-starved and horny.”
“But at home, you’re in your own comfy bed and strangers aren’t shouting in the hallway outside your room. Plus, your schedule isn’t crazy, and you’re probably not drinking like a fish, like you do on tour.”
“God, I hope not.”
“Don’t you dare turn into C-Bomb on me.”
“I’m in no danger of that.” Ruby is of the opinion that our good friend, Caleb “C-Bomb” Baumgarten, the iconic drummer of Red Card Riot, should be in rehab and anger management counseling.
“What have you tried so far to combat it?”
With a sigh, I list off everything: guided meditations, weed gummies, melatonin, booze, and a heating pad applied to various strategic places on my anatomy.
“Hmm,” Ruby says, tapping her chin. “What else could it be, then?”
I clear my throat. “It’s got to be the quarterback. It’s definitely not the lack of sex, because I beat off every night, which is basically the same thing as sex to my body and brain.”