Page 34 of Talk Nerdy To Me
“Of course you don’t,” she says, smiling at me for reasons I—unsurprisingly—can’t discern. “That’s one of the many reasons I love you.”
Still irrationally irritated, I sit back.
“But seriously, work from home for a while. And go to his shows when he asks you to.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I stand up, not feeling any less confused than when I came in. And Harley insisting I work from home just makes me confused about her.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dale,” she says primly.
“Will he have a problem with me working from home?” I ask, still confused.
Her smile grows so wide that it looks painful. “I really do freaking adore you, you know?”
“I know,” I tell her, since she’s said that a number of times, usually when I’m confused. Which makes no sense. I’m not confused about her adoration for me, and I’m never asking about it when she says it.
Leaving the room, I grab my things then head home, mostly going through the motions on autopilot.
Just as I pull up, Sticks is also pulling up. His eyes go a little wide when he sees me.
“Hey, I didn’t realize you were going to be here. Base said you worked until late most nights.”
“Should I go?” I ask, assuming he wants time alone with Base.
He visibly restrains a smile. “Uh…no. This is your house, and I’m really fucking sorry that Base has just insinuated himself into your life. Usually it’s characters in a TV show he draws his muse inspiration. Not the actual people. He says the emotions they fake are more genuine than the emotions they display off camera. He’s never had a real-world muse before, and believe it or not, his creative process is one of the least crazy I’ve come across in this business.”
“Okay,” I state warily, unsure how to proceed.
“Look, I know he’s intense, and I know he’s like a bull going ninety to nothing toward a red flag, but I do appreciate you letting him invade your space. When he writes like this, gold comes out. And he’s our only chance of ever getting a headlining spot. However, if it gets to be too much, let me know. I’ll reel him in.”
He’s apologizing for him. That’s something people usually have to do for me when I’ve said or done something too inappropriate. When I smile, Sticks arches an eyebrow.
“He’s weird, isn’t he?” I ask, feeling excited by the prospect Base Masters is significantly weird. Just differently weird than me.
“He can be,” he agrees, smiling tightly. “But he’s also brilliant when it comes to music. By far the most brilliant I’ve ever encountered. Brilliant artists are usually considered weird.”
“Geniuses” are considered weird as well.
“I’m glad he’s weird,” I tell him, relaxing a little about Base being in my house. “Are you going back in?”
“If that’s cool with you. I’m not so musically brilliant in the creative aspect, so I’m respectful enough to wait on an invite before simply walking into someone’s house. I was going to draw Base out here.” He grins like he’s made a joke, and I smile back in return, not getting the joke but not wanting to look stupid either.
“You off work?” he asks as I push the door open.
The loud wailing of a guitar has Sticks grimacing, as I answer, “Yes.”
“Shit. Is he always playing this loud?”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t play when I’m home unless it’s just the acoustic.”
“At least he has that much sanity left,” he grumbles. “Is he even sleeping or eating?”
“He eats with me nightly,” I answer, frowning when he relaxes.
“Should I worry that he won’t eat?” I ask loudly to make my voice carry over the even louder guitar.
“We’ve been trying to get him out so I could check to see how far off the reservation he is, but he’s too deep in the zone to get out. He’s only gotten out once since coming here, and that was Monday night for our gig at Silk. Tomorrow we’re playing three hours away. And today he didn’t answer any of our calls, which means he’s slightly losing touch with reality. It happens.”
Now I’m worried. I didn’t know he was this weird or had weird tendencies that could cause him not to eat or sleep, and I have no idea if he’s been sleeping since I’ve hidden in my room.
