Page 37 of Feuds and Interludes
“Hey, maybe you could paint my nails.”
He seemed to figure me out. He stood up and tugged on my hand. “Why don’t we do it in my room?” He picked up his bag with his polish and supplies with his free hand.
I was happy to let him take the lead. I didn’t want to have to make any more decisions tonight.And wasn’t that something? Me giving up control to Boone Collins, of all people.
We climbed the stairs slowly, and Boone sang a few bars of my silly song.
“You sing it better,” I said, placing my hand on his lower back.
“No way,” he said, putting his arm around me. He fit snugly under my arm, and he slid his hand under my shirt. It felt so damn good to be with him. I didn’t even care that anyone could see us, I didn’t care if anyone else knew what was going on between us. I’d take all the teasing if it meant him looking up at me with those blue eyes.
We got to his room and he fumbled with his keys. I leaned forward and nuzzled his hair. He smelled like?—
“Native from Target. Strawberry Vanilla Taffy. Come on in,” he said and held the door open for me.
I burst out laughing, caught sniffing him. Then I looked around.
“Wow. You’ve, uh, done some redecorating since this morning?”
All of his clothes, his guitars, everything was spread out on every surface.
“Oh. Yeah, well. I was trying to decide what to wear, and?—”
“I don’t care.” I pulled him in for a kiss like he was the only air left in the world. He and his friends had kept me from breaking apart tonight, but now I needed more.
Boone backed us up to the bed and dropped his bag on top of a pile of clothes, and though I really wanted to keep kissing him, he deserved better than for me to only half focus on him.
As if he sensed my mental sparring, he pulled away.
“Why don’t we sit at the table and you can talk while I paint,” he said, and he bent down to grab his polish bag. “As different as we are, Shane, I can tell you’re upset, and I knowIneed to get shit out before I can let it go.”
“Yeah,” I said, my shoulders slumping. “I never really talk about this stuff, though, except with Pops.”
Boone pushed me down into a chair at the little table in his room, and he pulled his hair back, using a hair tie from his wrist to make a low ponytail, just like Pops wore.
“Alright then,” he said in a thick British accent, “fire away, lad. Tell us about it, love. Oh wait. That’s my Papa. I don’t do a good Irish accent.” He laughed and sat down across from me. He reached for my hand and inspected my nails. It helped that he wasn’t looking me in the eye. He pulled out a file and began shaping each one. Thankfully I didn’t bite my nails anymore, so they didn’t look terrible.
“There’s a reason for everything I’ve done in my career,” I said, though whether I was justifying my actions or thinking out loud, I had no idea. “When I decided to form a band, I hired these guys based on their talent and knowledge of their instruments. That was it. I’d been writing songs for a long time. I started with Pops, you know. I moved in with him when I was a teenager.”
“What about your family?” he asked, still not looking in my eyes. He finished filing my right hand and moved on to the left. “I remember meeting your mom when we were little. She seemed…intense.”
I smiled. “Momisintense. And intensely against me being a musician. I’m just as stubborn as her, so when she didn’t back down, I left school with my GED and moved in with Pops. He immediately connected me with as many folks in the music industry as he could, and I began what was basically aninternship. I worked in studios, I got a job at Guitar Center doing repairs, I took lessons with anyone who would teach me, I roadied for Brothers’ tours. The whole time I was making a mental list of how I’d do things when it was my turn.”
“Sounds fair,” he said, finishing the left. He pulled several colors of polish out of the bag and gestured with his hand. “Which color?”
My gaze was immediately drawn to a dark teal that reminded me so much of his eyes…
“That one.”
“Not black?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
I shook my head. “I do have more than one side, Collins.”
He chuckled and started to shake the bottle of base coat. “So what did Lydia say that has you questioning everything? Right? I mean, that’s what it seems is happening.”
“Yeah. It’s funny, because it’s the same shit thatyouonce said in an interview that pissed me off.”
“What?” His head shot up. “What did I say? Wait, you actually listen to those?”
