Lady Boner by Alex Grayson

Author:Alex Grayson [Grayson, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Fiction Publishing LLC

Chapter 7

TAYLOR

A couple of nights later, I wake in the middle of the night to an empty bed. It’s still dark outside, so the bedroom is cast in shadows. We’re in Asa’s hotel room. A giddy feeling fills my stomach when I think about spending the last couple of days with the man I’ve obsessed over for the last ten twelve years. I still can’t believe it, but I’m eating up every second because I know it’ll come to an end. I live in Florida. He lives in California. Almost three thousand miles will soon separate us. That thought is depressing, and makes me desperate to know where he is right now.

Feeling a breeze come from the balcony door, I glance over and notice it cracked open. After throwing back the covers, I spot one of Asa’s shirts on a chair and slip it on. I pad across the room, about to push the door open and step outside when the soft strings of a guitar stops me. I stand there and listen for a moment, trying and failing to recognize the tune. I’ve never heard it before, so it can’t be one of Grey Water’s songs. Also, the tune is different from their usual hard rock beats.

I push the door open and quietly step outside. Although I make no noise as I approach, it’s as if he’s in tune with me. He stops playing and twists his head around, his eyes meeting mine in the dark.

“Don’t stop playing,” I tell him. “Whatever it is, it’s beautiful.”

His lips tip up and he moves his guitar from his lap. He crooks his finger at me. “Come here.”

The concrete is cool against my feet, but thankfully, the temperature is still warm enough that I’m not chilled as I walk toward him.

He scoots back in his chair and spreads his legs, patting the spot he made between them. “Sit.”

I turn and take a seat, snuggling back against his chest. He lifts the guitar and lays it across both of our legs. Sliding his hand down one of my arms, he laces our fingers and brings my hand up to lay my fingers on the strings. He does the same with the other hand, wrapping my thumb around the neck of the guitar.

“Have you ever played?” His breath fans across my ear, causing a shiver to run through me.

“No. I’m very much musically stunted when it comes to any musical instrument.”

His hand squeezes mine on the neck. “This is the neck.” He presses our fingers through the strings. “These raised lines right here are called frets. They represent semitones. The round pegs up at the top are turning pegs. You twist them to raise and lower the pitch.”

I hum in the back of my throat, indicating I’m following.

He uses his other hand to flick my fingers across the strings and a deep vibration sounds. “When you pluck a string, it vibrates against the bridge, which is this piece here.” He touches the part the strings are attached to.

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