Mal nods to her. "Start on the count of three, all right?"
She nods.
He counts down.
She does start on three. She doesn't quite get keeping the beat, but she manages to play the riff.
This time, Mal belts out the lyrics with his usual breathy groaning style.
When we're done, Bella slides the instrument off her shoulders and sets it back in its stand. Her expression is filled with a beautiful mix of delight and exhaustion.
"You want to go to a show tomorrow?" I ask
She looks into my eyes. "Your band or another band?"
I mime being stabbed in the gut. "That's cold, Bella. You'd go see someone else over us?"
She laughs. "I like collecting information."
"We're playing in Hollywood tomorrow," Mal says. "Last minute thing."
She shoots me a look. Is he full of shit?
I nod. He's incredibly full of shit. But— "It will be fun."
"Sure." She motions to the door. "I'll let you guys finish."
"You can stay," I say.
"I know." She catches me staring at her tits and motions my eyes are up here. "But I'm getting this strange feeling I'm not good for your productivity."
That's true.
Not that I'm complaining.
She nods goodbye and closes the door behind her.
Mal shoots me an accusatory look. "Album was due a month ago."
"And?"
"We should get in the studio ASAP."
"Sure."
He stares at me.
I stare back at him.
Fuck, I'm losing this staring contest.
I clear my throat. "Is that all?"
"You like her."
"Why do you think I married her?"
His expression gets serious. "I got a call from our law firm last night. Something about wanting to move an appointment."