URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 20: Bad Girls Trash Hotel Rooms, Too

WARNING:::Mac describes the assault she endured in this chapter. It's brief and not very graphic, but for anyone with violence triggers, please proceed with caution...you can private message me if you have any concerns about this chapter...

Okay, there's another brief performance described in this chapter...another cover...I imagine Leed and Mac sound alot lot Gavin and Gwen. Now that I think about it, Leed probably sounds ALOT like Gavin...Sigh. Anybody else miss the good ole days of Gavin and Gwen? Gwen is alot like Mac, I guess...she traded a lion for a country boy...

Mac

Adam sleeps so peacefully. I could watch him forever, even though in the last few nights, I've completely memorized him—the way his jaw eases in sleep and his sexy, strong lips part so slightly, and all care drains away from around his eyes. He looks so much younger in his sleep—like the boy he was five years ago, not the man he is now.

Although, I can't remember seeing him sleep in my dorm room.

Back then, I fell asleep first, and slept like the dead.

I've learned to cope with lack of sleep, in the last year.

I've learned to cope with so many things.

So many things I need to tell Adam. So many things we need to talk about.

I know that.

Just because I'm an avoider doesn't mean that I'm foolish, or ignorant. I know what a serious situation I am in. I know that more than he does.

I nearly lost it in the middle of the show last night. If Adam hadn't cut short those two songs, and sent us to Seven Minutes, and forced me out of the frenetic jambs and into singer mode, I might have...really lost it.

That makes me worry..that this is going to go from feeling right, to me being the girl his mother thinks I am—a girl he will waste his love on. It's selfish of me to put him through this.

But I can't think about that today. Today is so fucking busy, and there's no time for personal bullshit.

Today we run the band shit. We deal with whatever the situation is with the sub guitarist Thomas, and we show up at the show and no matter what, I know Adam will get us through, and somewhere in the music we will feel each other and I won't be worried, and after—when it's just the two of us, then I will tell him.

I have to. Tomorrow is the last day I could take my emergency contraception. We haven't even been using condoms at all since the condom broke, so we both kind of know...either I take it in the morning, or we are pretty much casting our fate into the wind.

I have things I have to tell him,  before we embrace the  maybe-baby.

He deserves to know what he's in for.

My phone is already in my hand at 7am, shutting off the alarm I set. I know Adam could sleep for hours more—and so should I. But I have to wake him. We had two days off before the New Orleans show, and now we pay for the pleasure with three shows in three days.

Adam is lying on his back like a dead man, and I'm on my side, propped up on my elbow. I stroke his cheek, then dance over those fascinating dips that are new in his shoulder—from throwing all those punches in the ring, I suppose. My feather touches don't wake him. I snuggle up against him and gnaw lightly on his shoulder, as I play staccato sixteenth notes down his forehead, nose, chin and throat.

He lets out an explosive, waking breath and smacks my hand away.

"Fuck!" His eyes look hostile for just the briefest millisecond, then completely soften as my laughter anchors him.