Say you love me

Part 9

Dallas, Texas, finally arriving at the hotel:
The road trip to Dallas was long and alot more difficult than usual. The drive itself wasn't bad, it was everyone else that was bad. They got up early and left in two separate vans, one with the people from Chicken Shack and one from Fleetwood Mac. The first few hours were fine, but eventually, everyone started to get on everyone's nerves. Peter got mad at John for blowing smoke in his face, Jeremy got mad at Mick for not stopping to pee (Mick insisted it would only slow them down, and they had deadlines), Mick got mad at Peter and John for fighting over the goddamn cigarette smoke. When they arrived at the hotel, everyone in Fleetwood Mac was pissed and more than ready to kick each others asses. It was best for everyone they have some time apart.
Now John was in Christine's room, sitting on her bed with her and drinking glasses of Blue Nun, which Chris adored. John wasn't a fan, but he drank it anyway. Chris was telling him about her experience during their road trip,
"...And then there were these two hookers on the corner, we pulled right up to them and asked them for a good time, one of them came right up to the window and bam! Andy got her right in the face with the seltzer bottle!" She and John were laughing hard by the end of her story, nearly dropping their glasses. They sobered themselves up after a while, red faced and out of breath. They held hands, loosely, just enjoying each others company. John changed the subject, "Chris, after this week, when we have a month off, what are you doing?" Chris sipped her wine, thought for a minute.
"Well," she drawled, "I haven't really thought about it. I guess I'll either stay in San Francisco or go back to England for the month. I just want to relax, not do anything crazy." John looked down, suddenly embarrassed (God, she drove him crazy!), then managed,
"I'm going back to West London for the month and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me? We could just relax, sit outside, spend time together. My house is a fair size, and I'd love to have you."
"Ah, a month alone with your lover, how romantic!" Chris giggled, but quickly winced with the pain from her stitches. She grabbed John's hand and held it to her chest.
"I'd love to come back with you, Johnny. It'll be lovely."
John breathed out, his mind at ease. He kissed Christine's hand and felt a smile stretch across his face.

Christine lay on her bed, arms flung out, thinking about her and John. He asked her to come back to England for the month with him, she couldn't believe it. Not that she was appalled by the idea, just excited and a little taken aback.
She loved John, she was already certain of that. She loved everything about him, how he was so sweet and kind, his laugh, the way he looked at her when they made love, like he'd never seen anyone so beautiful. They could talk for hours, talking about everything, talking about nothing.
Chris sat up and reached for her purse on the floor. She retrieved her pack of cigarettes and her silver Zippo lighter, shook one out, and lit it between her teeth. As she smoked, she remembered when she had her very first cigarette when she was 16. She was so paranoid her mother would smell it on her breath, the fear nearly made her sick instead of the awful taste of nicotine. Now, the taste wasn't so bad. Chris smiled at the memory and blew smoke rings in the air, watching them float up in the air then slowly fade away, just like her fears.