Who’s ready for hump day and a dose of much needed Mid Week Teases? Me too! Let’s start off thanking our hostess, Sandra Bunino. Thank you, lovely lady. Today I’m in that very surreal, happy place of having a new book release in the next few days. On Monday, the official Sin Pointe Free Read, Touch of Sin, comes out! So I’m going to share a bit from that with Sarrie, the management appointed “spy” who is observing opening act, Lonerby, to see if they seem capable of returning to tour after being kicked off. She’s pretty sure about her decision but is finding it very hard to say no to Lonerby lead guitarist, Luke. Especially when they end up together at a hotel and he does stuff like this…
Sarrie stepped carefully and mostly on tip toes out of the tiny, grime grouted shower. She’d had to waste one of their two usable towels for a floor mat and made sure to land on it.
The good news was that she no longer teetered on what she’d tell Mr. Keller when they made it to D.C.
Noah was sick and while he’d managed himself at these smaller gigs, he didn’t belong on a massive, nationwide Sin Pointe tour. She tried to picture him night after night and the binge drinking sessions. It hurt her heart to think of it but worse than that was picturing the landslide of sleepless nights Luke would have to suffer through caring for him. Sure, they might all hate her as a consequence, but that’s why it was called tough love. The truth hurt at first. And sometimes for a very long time after. But at least the person would be alive.
She grabbed for the towel she’d left on the toilet seat and found a loosely folded bunch of clothes. Not hers because they were too big and, she pulled the shirt to her nose, they smelled like Luke. “Mmmm.”
Her eyes popped open so wide she felt her lashes touch her brow bone. Yes, she’d just sighed at a man’s smell. It was a first. Maybe it was because her decision no longer hung over her head, but she could get lost in the fact she held the shirt he’d played in. She inhaled and the smell brought back visions of him serving as master of his guitar and the beads of sweat that had dotted his forehead, the one that hung from his nose, and the slick mass that had wet his chest hairs showing through the top of his V neck shirt. He’d been so lost in the music that he hadn’t seen her staring or cared about the sweat. She’d noticed more than she realized and had to stop and breathe through what that meant…
And then she had an altogether more shocking thought. If his clothes were in here, what was he wearing?