The Rocker's Muse

I smiled. “Ronan says the same thing.”

“He’s wise.”

“Either that or he smokes a lot of weed.” I laughed. “Anyway, no wonder I keep both of you around. It’s good for my ego.” I squinted. “I thought you didn’t even like our music. What the hell is happening there? Is it growing on you or something?”

“It’s not that I didn’t like it. I just wasn’t familiar with it. But now that I’ve listened to it, I’m a genuine fan. Although, not the type of fan who’ll tattoo your face on my body or keep a jar of your hair.”

“Say what?”

She shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”

“I think you’re right.” I shifted on the couch. “So, tell me specifically what you like about our music.”

Emily didn’t hesitate. “I love how it’s not just one thing. It’s a blend of hard rock with alternative elements and a little pop.”

“What else?” You’re really shameless this evening, Tristan.

“You deliver every word with intensity and emotion. In combination with Ronan’s bass and Atticus’s timekeeping on drums, it’s such great synchronicity. It’s a reflection of the relationship you three have.”

“Anything else?” I asked, beaming with pride.

“Yes. Lyrically, your songs aren’t simple. Each one is well thought out, and there’s a real vulnerability there. That’s why so many people love you. Because they can relate.”

“I don’t care if you’re stroking my ego right now. That was beautiful. Thank you.”

I could kiss you for that.

I wanted to kiss her.

But I wouldn’t.

Instead, I took a sip of my tea and shut my eyes for a moment. Both of us should be getting some sleep, but I was nowhere ready to say goodnight to Emily.

“Are you tired?” I asked.

“I should be, but I’m not.”

“Neither am I. But say the word if you need to get to bed.”

We talked for a while until she put her foot down.

“That’s enough chatting. You need to rest your voice.” Emily got up and disappeared down a small hallway before she came back with a blanket and a pillow.

“Do you think the couch is comfortable enough?” she asked.

“It’s perfect.” I’d have slept on a rock just to be here.

“We don’t have any extra bedrooms. My mother turned my brother’s room into her office and sewing room after he moved away.”

“The couch is more than fine.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

I sat up suddenly. “Wait, what if your mother wakes up and finds me here?”

“I’ll set my alarm so I wake up before she does. She usually sleeps in pretty late anyway.”

Famous last words.