Chapter 7
Anne is watching TV when I let myself in.
“Damn, girl. Look at you all smiling. What caused you to be so happy this early in the morning?”
I roll my eyes, and she giggles.
Anne has been my roommate now pretty much since I ran.
In my old life, I always had my own room.
Sometimes it still strikes me as weird when I see Anne in my space.
But she’s been amazingly laid back about it all, even at night when I sometimes wake her with my screams. It’s mortifying to have my psyche laid bare for her to see.
But when I wake panting and feeling so alone, I sense her there and settle a bit.
And while she has no problem stripping naked in front of me, she also has no qualms about my need for complete privacy. Like now, as I get everything I need to shower and change and lock myself in the bathroom.
But as I strip, restless energy zips through me. I take my ball cap off and think of West’s comment about how the red doesn’t suit me.
The red serves its purpose. I’ve got a new name, new look, and I’m working as a roadie. Grayson would never expect Indie Fest. Never.
“Eve!” Anne bangs on the door, and I nearly slip on the tile. “One of the guys just texted me. We’re leaving for Memphis in ten minutes. Make it a quick one!”
“Okay!” I yell and hurry through my shower.
“So, listen,” Anne starts as soon as I emerge. “I was thinking about West and how you need to get up on that.”
Ignoring her, I shove everything inside of my duffel and zip it up.
We grab our stuff, and she opens our hotel door.
“Dude, even I’ll get up on top of that. He sexes his way through the gals, but no one’s ever said anything bad about him.
I mean, if you’re going to do a guy that’s been around, it should be him.
He’d treat you right—as in he knows what he’s doing with a gal’s body. ”
I have no idea what to say to all of that, and while everything she’s saying is more than interesting, she knows I would never “get up on that.” Frankly, just thinking of the actual act makes me sweaty.
It would require a lot of being in each other’s personal space, and… he would see the scars on my back.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I suggest.
She winks at me. “No prob.”
That’s another good thing about Anne. She’s got a loud mouth, but she knows when to rein it in for me. And to my relief, that is the last thing Anne says about West as we load up a van and start the drive west to Memphis. Every mile between an old town and a new one makes me breathe easier.