Lay Your Hands On Me by Blair Babylon

Author:Blair Babylon [Babylon, Blair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Malachite Publishing
Published: 2018-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

One True Thing

Georgie

The hotel room’s windows opened outward into the cool night air. Several stories below, the lights of Paris sparkled like thousands upon thousands of candles floating on the waves of an incandescent sea.

Georgie sat on the gray couch, her hands over her ears. An F-sharp above high C whined in her ears, filling her whole head with a scream.

Covering her ears wasn’t helping. She dropped her arms to the couch.

The television glowed, playing the news because the sound of the newscaster absorbed some of the ringing in her ears. The guy babbled nasal French, and Georgie stared at him, watching the pictures of talking heads and cars driving on French roads while not understanding a damn word.

The high tone wailed in her ears, and she sat alone in the hotel room, exhausted. Soreness pressed on her shoulders from jamming on the keyboards for three hours. The scream inside her head became knives slicing at her temples.

The clock above the television read that it was two in the morning. She wore one of her jammie shirts, the one that Adrien had bought her that first night that said Virginia Is For Lovers. Her long hair was almost dry, but the clammy shirt clung to her back. She should just go to bed.

She clicked off the television.

The whine in her head doubled, screaming and piercing the sides of her head.

She turned the television back on, and in the garble of French, the ringing subsided.

A little.

Outside in the hotel hallway, a door slammed.

A faint tapping rattled her door. The insinuation was very much that she wouldn’t hear it if she were asleep.

She should probably put on pants before she opened the door. Maybe. She tiptoed over to the keyhole and peered through it anyway.

Xan stood outside, holding himself up by leaning one hand on the doorframe.

Oh, it was just him. The tee shirt came down almost to her knees. He had seen her knobby knees before and had not run away screaming.

In Xan’s other hand, he clutched his bow and violin by the neck.

She threw open the door and grabbed his arm, hauling him inside and shutting the door behind him. “What if someone saw you walking around with a violin?”

“What are you doing still awake?” Alexandre’s accent was soft, slurred French. He leaned back against the door, his dark eyes almost closed.

Georgie admitted, “The whine in my ears is driving me crazy.”

He nodded. “One moment, you’re on that stage with thousands of people screaming your name, and the next, you’re alone in a hotel room with nothing except the ringing in your ears.”

She nodded and leaned against the wall by the door.

He sighed. “Is it going to be like this? Are you not going to do the encores with me anymore?”

Georgie stared at the violin in his hand. “I’m leaving in a couple of months. Less, really.”

“But we have this time left,” he said.

“We’re just hurting ourselves,” she said.

“I want every last minute.”

“This is fraternizing. You said that you would burn Killer Valentine to the ground if we did this.

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