Page 33 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

Louder now.

Tap.

So loud it drills into my forehead?—

“Hey! Boss!”

I jolt awake with a sharp flick to my forehead.

Tesla looms over me, her blue hair a messy halo. “Wakey, wakey!” she sings, hand poised to flick me again.

I swat it away before she can. “Please stop that.”

“There he is!” She grins, rocking back on her heels. “What were you dreaming about? Seemed nice.”

“Nothing.” My voice comes out rough. I sit up with a groan, shaking off the sluggish weight of sleep. Late nights are nothing new—staring at song lyrics, shifting notes around, waiting for everything to click into place. And they always do.

I’m just that good.

“What time is it?” I ask, reaching blindly for the nearest drink to wash away the stale taste in my mouth.

“Twelve-ish.” Tesla shrugs. “Still got an hour before practice.”

I grunt, tipping an empty water bottle toward my mouth before sighing and tossing it aside.

“Damn, boss.” Goldie surveys the chaos of sticky notes scattered across the table. She plucks one up, grinning. “You were a busy little boy last night.”

I rub my eyes and push to my feet as she reads aloud:

“You don’t have to say it, I already know. Running like a fever with nowhere to go.”She lets out an appreciative hum. “Catchy. Whatever got into you last night, keep it up.”

“More like whoeverhegot into last night,” Tesla teases. “And the night before.”

Goldie whips her head toward me, yellow curls bouncing, eyes alight with gossip. “What’s this now?”

I say nothing, choosing instead to splash cold water on my face. I know that once the giggle train leaves the station, there’s no stopping it anyway.

“Somebody spent the night with a little…creative inspiration,”Tesla drawls. “Again.”

“Again?” Goldie gasps.

“Again.”

“No!” Goldie clutches her chest. “Two nights in a row with the same girl? That’s gotta be a new record, boss.”

I dab my face dry and turn to find them both watching me like a pair of hungry wolves.

Rather than reply, I take my time. Flip open my suitcase. Dig around for jeans. Maybe a T-shirt?—

“Logan!” Tesla breaks first. “Come on! Don’t leave us hanging. We’re dying here.”

I glance at them. “Nothing happened.”

They groan in unison, collapsing onto the bed.

“Bullshit,” Tesla says.

“It’s true,” I say.

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