Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Ty
? Stay – Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko ?
Two weeks.
That’s how long I got to be part of Velvet Shadows’ tour before I died.
Alright so obviously I didn’t die, but it feels like I am indeed on death’s doorstep as I lay in my bed in the back of the RV, willing death to stop messing around and just come for me already.
I don’t even know how I got sick. No one else on this tour is sick. Cold and flu season is well past us, and even then, I wasn’t this sick. I’ve been fighting a fever for thirteen hours, and my entire body feels like this RV backed over me several times.
I check my watch for the time and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize it’s time for another dose of the cold medicine I picked up at the last gas station when we stopped.
I drag myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom to do another shot of medicine before turning around and laying back down in bed.
I pull the covers up over my head and curl into a fetal position as full-body shivers wrack my body. I grab my phone from beside me and fire off a text to Eric.
Ty: Hey, I’m really sick today, so I’m keeping my door shut. It’s probably best that you stay as far away from me as possible.
I hear his phone ding from the other side of the door, and the knock that follows is almost instant.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m dying,” I say. “It’s been lovely knowing you.”
“Tyler, seriously. What’s wrong?”
“Fever, chills, full body aches.”
“I’m coming in,” he says.
“Don’t you dare!”
He, of course, doesn’t listen. Instead, he steps into my room wearing pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt, his hair mussed from sleep.
“What are you doing in here?” I say, peeking my head out from under the covers, my voice coming out all squeaky and barely audible.
“What medicine are you taking, and when did you take it last?” He asks, ignoring my question completely and sitting on the bed beside me.
“I just took some when I texted you,” I say, deciding I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now.
“I haven’t been able to sleep, so it’s been easy to keep it in my system.
Even though I don’t feel like it’s helping.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick in my life.
” I groan as he presses the back of his hand to my forehead and reaches for the thermometer on my nightstand.
The thermometer beeps three times in quick succession and he looks at it and frowns.
“One-oh-three,” he says, placing it on the bed next to me. “And that’s with meds in you?” I nod, and his brow creases. “I don’t like that. If it gets any higher, we’re detouring to a hospital.”
“You mean I’m detouring to a hospital?” I ask, assuming I either heard him wrong, or he misspoke.
“No, I mean we.”
“Eric, we have no idea what in the hell I picked up,” I say. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”
“You have an extremely high fever,” he says. “I’m not leaving you alone until it breaks.”
“What if it’s the flu? What if I give it to you?”
“Then I’ll have the flu.”
“Eric…” I argue.
“Tyler…” He argues back, before letting out a sigh. “Look, if it makes you uncomfortable that I’m in here, I’ll go, but if you’re only worried about my well-being, don’t be. I’ve been doing this a long time. My immune system is an impenetrable fortress. I’ll be fine.”
Despite how shitty I feel, I smile and close my eyes, and when I open them again, it’s dark in my room and Eric is sleeping on his stomach next to me on top of the covers.
I roll over and pick my phone up off the nightstand to check the time: 11:17 p.m. Shit, have I really been sleeping for almost fifteen hours? Has Eric been here the entire time?
I stretch, groaning when I realize my muscles are as sore and heavy as they were earlier, and I must have groaned a little too loud, because Eric jolts awake and pushes himself up onto his elbows.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly, sending a completely different kind of shiver through me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I say. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
He reaches for the thermometer that’s now on the nightstand on his side of the bed and presses it to my forehead. When it beeps, he looks at the screen and frowns.
“Still one-oh-three,” he says, setting the thermometer back on the nightstand and turning onto his side to face me.
“I’m fine,” I say again, pulling the covers up to my neck, a fresh wave of chills turning me into the human equivalent of a chihuahua.
“Is that so?” he asks, staring at my shaking body and suppressing a smile.
“Tell me a story,” I say, nestling into him. He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t move away, allowing me to tuck myself against his body, the warmth of it seeping through the blankets and into my bones, calming the full-body shivers that were just wreaking havoc on me. “Distract me.”
“If you hadn’t made me sign that contract, I could think of more fun ways to distract you,” he says, and I clench my thighs together at the memory of just how good of a distraction he can be.
“First of all, I’m sick, so contract or no, it wouldn’t be happening,” I say. “And second, having sex with you again wouldn’t be a distraction. It’d be an obsession.” His entire body stiffens beside me, and I wonder if I’ve taken things too far, so I say, “Talk to me. Please.”
“You’re not sick of hearing my voice yet?” he teases.
“No.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Something real. Something true,” I say. “Something just for me.”
He’s quiet for a while, and I close my eyes, focusing my attention on how good it feels—having him in my bed next to me.
How…normal. Like we’ve done this a hundred times already.
Then I immediately regret letting my brain wander down that road, since as soon as I’m better he’ll be back in his own bed, and I’ll be alone.
Just like I insisted.
“Despite Josh’s fun little nickname for me, I wasn’t always good with women,” he begins.
“I was nerdy and awkward as fuck when I was a teenager, and I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-six, but of course, I did the teenage boy thing and lied about it.
So, if anyone asks, the official party line is that I was fourteen. ”
I chuckle.
“How did it happen?”
He lets out a deep sigh, like he’s unsure if he wants to talk about it.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, sensing his unease. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. That was rude. It’s absolutely none of my business.”
He’s quiet for a while and just when I think he’s decided against telling me, he starts talking.
“It was right after I got the spot in the band. I knew my life was going to be…different. Once I went off to college and felt confident enough to ask girls out, I always enjoyed being in relationships—taking things slow and really getting to know someone on an emotional level before crossing the line and making things physical. But I knew relationships would be difficult on the road, and that I was about to be dealing with temptations I hadn’t dealt with before.
I didn’t want my first time to be a one-night stand.
I also didn’t want to be known as a goddamn idiot in bed, so… ” he shifts slightly beside me.
“I drove to a brothel in Nevada. I just wanted to get it over with, but on the way up there, I decided I didn’t want to just have sex and leave…
I wanted to learn. I wanted to know how to pleasure a woman—to make sure it was as good or better for her than it was for me.
I wanted to know where everything was and how it worked and what felt good.
“So, I paid for two hours, and then I paid attention. The woman I was with was cool as hell. She was sweet and patient and a total knockout. I went in there with the intention to focus on her, but she pointed out that it’s just as important that I learn what I liked.
So, she experimented with me, too, and when it was over and I left, I felt like I was seeing the world through a different set of eyes. ”
“Well,” I say. “As someone who has been on the receiving end of those very thorough lessons, I feel like I should thank that woman. Maybe send her some flowers. Or chocolate.” He laughs and when I feel it vibrate through me, I realize how much I love this—just…
existing with him. Hanging out, talking, and making each other laugh.
“Her name is Stacy. I see her every time we’re playing in Vegas.
” I stiffen, my heart sinking. “Not like that,” he says, telling me he felt my unintentional reaction.
He gently runs his fingers over my forehead, then quickly flattens his palm against it, checking my temperature—like he was trying to cover up the fact that he’d touched me.
“She’s been retired for a few years and is happily married with three kids.
We meet up for lunch or dinner to catch up.
I’d love to introduce you to her when we’re there. ”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I say nothing, opting to take advantage of this moment of vulnerability we’ve found ourselves in instead. Relishing in the fact that he’s here, with me, not because our schedule dictates he be here, but because he wants to be.
It’s not long before my eyes flutter closed again, and I’m unsure if the feeling of Eric’s fingers brushing my cheek and the featherlight press of his lips to my forehead is real or a fever dream, but I can’t remember a time I’ve felt more at peace than I do right now.