Perfect Imperfections

It seemed he was more under the weather than he realized. His eyes had drifted shut when he felt Reg climb out of the bed.

“I’m getting you more water,” Reg said as he walked out of the room, his back to Jeremy and his voice sounding husky. “Do you want anything else?”

“No. I’m good,” Jeremy called after him.

It took Reg longer to return that time. “Sorry,” he said as he walked into the room. “I had to return one last call about our trip cancelation.” He twisted the bottle open and handed it to Jeremy.

Immediately, Jeremy was flooded with guilt and anxiety. “I’ll be okay here alone if you want to go out and do something,” he said after chewing on his shirt collar. “We don’t have many off days, and I know you don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”

“Are you kidding?” Reg smiled and sat on the bed. “We’ll have a blast. We can watch bad TV, ask each other embarrassing questions, and if you can keep food down, we’ll order room service.” He ruffled Jeremy’s hair and shifted his stance until he was leaning against the headboard and sitting cross-legged. “It’ll be fun. Promise.”

Though being sick had never been fun, the way Reg explained it made Jeremy believe it’d be true.

“Okay,” Jeremy said.

“Cool.” Reg beamed. “What do you want to do first?” He reached for the remote. “TV?”

“Uh, let’s do the embarrassing-questions thing,” Jeremy said quietly.

Flicking his gaze toward Jeremy, Reg snickered. “Why do I get the feeling you already have questions lined up?”

Jeremy shrugged and arched his eyebrows, trying to look innocent.

“All right, whatever.” Reg rolled his hand in a “get on with it” gesture. “Let’s hear it. What’s your question?”

“When was the last time you cried?” Jeremy said immediately.

“The last time I cried? That’s your embarrassing question?”

Feeling his cheeks heat, Jeremy lowered his gaze. “Well, you’re Mr. Tough Guy, yeah?”

“I am not,” Reg denied.

“When we went climbing and I grabbed those rocks wrong and rolled one on your foot, you barely flinched.”

“We were on a mountainside. Flinching would have been hella dumb.”

“Okay. How about the time those drunk guys stormed us after the show? I was sure we were getting taken down, and you stepped right into their path.”

“You have a million security people around at those shows. Nobody was getting to you, and if they’d tried, they would have had to get through me first.”

“That’s what I mean.”

Rolling his eyes, Reg said, “Fine. You want to know the last time I cried?” He pursed his lips and crinkled his forehead in thought. “Uh, it was probably a few years ago, when I found out my brother Ryan got one of those illnesses that makes you think buying fake nuts for your truck looks cool.”

“You jerk.” Jeremy smacked Reg’s arm. “I was being serious.”

“So was I. We were all worried.” Sighing deeply, Reg solemnly said, “For a while there, it was touch and go. Thankfully, my sister-in-law stepped in and told Ryan if he attached any sort of genital reproduction to their vehicle, she’d assume he was crazy and have him committed so he wouldn’t be able to frighten the children.” Reg drew in a breath and shook his head. “Those were scary times, man. Scary times.” In an instant, he wiped the serious expression from his face, grinned, and said, “All right, my turn.”

“You’re cheating, but fine.” Jeremy chuckled. “What’s your embarrassing question?”

“Okay.” Reg’s brown eyes twinkled. He rubbed his hands together conspiratorially and leaned forward. “I’ve always wondered….”

Jeremy braced himself for what he was sure would be an invasive and humiliating question.

“How did you choose which instrument to play?”

His jaw dropped. “How is that embarrassing?”

“It’s not, but neither is crying, and you asked me about it,” Reg explained. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to know.”

“For real?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh, well, let’s see.” Jeremy held up one finger. “I’m not intellectual enough to be a keyboard player.” He crooked one side of his lips up. “Plus, I wanted to have sex sometimes.”

“Even though it isn’t that great?”

“Someday you’ll share a bed with someone, and you’ll understand what I mean. Sex will make more sense when you have a warm body close to you all night. Anyway—” With a deep breath, Jeremy raised another finger. “Being a drummer would have been cool, but I fell short on the ‘batshit insane and no personal limits’ requirements.” He shrugged. “Besides, if I had that much sex, my dick would fall off.”

Reg snorted.

“That leaves bass.” He raised a third finger. “And, really, what’s the point? I’m good enough to play guitar. This way people know my name. Plus, I won’t end up bitter and stuck in rehab.”

“This game isn’t working.” Reg slid down until he was lying on the bed instead of sitting on it.

Handing him a pillow, Jeremy asked, “What game?”