Page 67 of Hold Still

Ozzy

MY MUSE IS INhigh gear. I don’t ever remember feeling this creative before. Every day McKenna comes over, I’m inundated with new music or lyrics. Sometimes both.

But it’s not only that she unlocks this part of my brain. She’s my sexual match, too. I love that I can be writing a song one second, then throw her over the sofa the next, and then go back to the song afterwards. And she’s always so responsive.

Plus, she’s a great cook—especially pastries. Damn. I’ve swum more laps since we’ve been together than I can remember. The only issue is she’s skipped my recent concerts and never sleeps here. It’s starting to get on my nerves. I can understand not coming to my concerts all the time, but I’ve asked her over every night and she always has an excuse.

An unscheduled meeting at the Project.

An emergency with a client.

She forgot a change of clothes. I tell her she might as well be naked.

Aside from that, she’s perfect for me. And honest. Right? Ignoring a niggling doubt, it hits me—I’ve never felt like this, even toward Teresa. It’s like she’s in my bloodstream, feeding my organs.

I’m in love.

The thought rips through my brain, causing me to jump up off the sofa. “Bans, come!” I put her leash on and we go for a long, rapid walk around the neighborhood. By the time I return, my heart has resumed a normal pace.Love? Ha! I don’t think so.

A while later, the doorbell rings and I rush to answer it, my fingers itching to sink into her body. “Hey, Ozzy.”

My shoulders drop. “Hola, Aiden.”

“Don’t sound so excited to see me.”

Closing the door behind him, we make our way through the house. “Thought you were Mckenna.”

“Sorry, dude.” He detours into the kitchen, pours himself an iced tea and heads toward the patio.

Choosing to stick to a non-alcoholic drink, I do the same and follow him out. “So, what’s up?”

“I got a call from Ginger, and she’s coming to tonight’s concert. Says she’s bringing the surprise she mentioned.”

She’s been dangling the idea of a surprise over my head. I have no idea what it could be—more Molly, maybe? Not that I’ve needed any “extra” help since I’ve been with McKenna. “Sure. Whatever.”

He shrugs. “‘Take Me’ is going over really well. I’m sure Ginger will be very pleased.”

I take a sip of iced tea. “Yeah. And I’ve been working on some more new stuff, too.”

He rubs his lip. “It’s great you’re back in the game.” He drinks and places his cup down on the table, then produces a stack of paperwork.

“Don’t you ever come here without a shit-ton of papers for me?”

He grins. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” He points to the first one in the pile and we start slogging through all the business. When we finish, he says, “So, McKenna, huh?”

I lick my lips. “Yep.”

“Do you want me to pick up anything for her from you? Clothes, handbag? Jewelry?”

His question brings me up short. “Oh shit. We’ve been so focused on writing and,” I slant him a look, “other things, that I haven’t even gotten her a present. Well, other than the skydiving experience. Thanks for arranging that, by the way.”

He nods, as if it was no big deal. I guess for him, it wasn’t. “Okay. Let me know if I can get anything for your girlfriend.”

I can’t have my PA buy my girlfriend a present. Whoa.Girlfriend? “No, I’ll take care of her.”

He scoffs. “I bet.”

I give him a dirty look, then break out in a grin. The doorbell rings and I jump to my feet. “That’s going to be her. Are we finished?”

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