I join her, impossible not to laugh at a ridiculous story like that.
“It was the eighties… bushes were in then. At least that’s what my mother says,” she points out.
Right. Fuck. Are we talking about Montana’s distaste for pubic hair, which can only mean she’s sporting a Brazilian? Rocky would be in fucking heaven if I even mentioned this conversation to him. Seriously, I need to cleanse my thoughts because they are bordering on extremely unhealthy, let alone, inappropriate.
We sit in silence enjoying the music until Montana stands up and pulls my hand with her. “C’mon, Mr. Edwards. Sorry, I mean Lex, let’s dance.”
“Montana, call me Lex, especially in here.”
“So, you’re off duty as my boss, then?”
“I’m off duty as your boss.”
“Then we better dance,” she teases.
She pulls me onto the dance floor and moves her body a little too close to mine. The dance floor is packed, almost everybody crammed into the small area. I try my best to ignore her body mere inches away from mine, but the bourbon is setting in, and I haven’t gotten laid in God knows how long. Your own fault, Edwards.
Jett Black comes on stage, the guitar strumming at a slow beat as he begins to sing a song he wrote, according to Montana. It is called ‘Afraid.’
No one has ever made me feel, the things you make me feel.
Girl when I’m with you I struggle to breath
Your power has a hold of me
And I’m frightened of this spell you cast over me
So I hurt you because I’m frightened.
I push you away because I’m scared.
I do it because I love you
I do it because I hate you
I don’t know how to be with you
Without being afraid of losing you
I listen to the lyrics. It’s spot on to every emotion I have felt the past few months. I’m terrified of losing Charlotte, yet I push her away. Even in our darkest moments, she has a hold over me, and that frightens me, makes me scared to love her the way she deserves to be loved.
Lost in my own pessimistic thoughts, I don’t notice Montana moving in closer. Her body brushes against mine, and I scream at my brain not to let my cock get hard, but being a fucking retarded piece of shit, it does not listen to me. She knows as she continues to put pressure on it, which in turn makes it worse.
I lean in and whisper her ear, “I think I should take you home, Montana.”
Her eyes find mine, and perhaps she misinterprets my meaning. Yeah, good one, Lex, you didn’t need to deliver it in your seductive my-cock-is-throbbing tone.
She says goodbye to her brother, and I wave to him as we head out the back door.
In the car, there is an awkward silence. Shit, Edwards, seriously, think of something to keep the conversation going, otherwise, your dick will start talking, and that is the last thing you need.
“So, how long have you lived here in LA?”
Great, that’s all you can come up with?
“About six months now. My brother lives here and just signed a major recording contract. Mom is back in Florida, and Dad lives in Hawaii.”
“Divorced?”