A Boat Made of Bone (The Chthonic Saga) (31 page)

“Thanks,” Kate said, finishing her assessment of him.

“You’re good. Have you cut any albums?”

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head and glancing past him to see if her friends were still around. Kate wasn’t really interested in working with him. Or anybody.

“I’ve got a little indie label and a recording studio. You should come in and bounce around some ideas. I’d love to sign you. My contracts don’t screw the artist over. I’m pro-artist,” he explained, running his fingers through his lopsided, hipster hairstyle. He pulled a card from a pocket inside his blazer and handed it to Kate. She gave it a cursory look before slipping it into the pocket of her shorts.

“Hydrant Records?”

“It’s just a name,” he said with the faintest blush. Kate wouldn’t have seen the flush creeping across his cheeks if they hadn’t been standing in a pool of light coming from the huge windows on the side of Salt and Sugar. “Look me up and see some of the artists I’ve worked with. If you like, give me a call.”

“Great, I will. Thanks,” Kate said politely. “Um, I’ve got to go.”

He nodded coolly, like he was Rick Rubin and he was only deigning to speak to her, “See you around.”

Kate carried her guitar over to the table and crouched down next to Audra, since all the chairs were taken.

“That was great, chickie,” Audra said, patting her back.

“So who was that guy?” Ferg asked, cutting Ty off before he could tell her she did well.

“He wants me to do an album with him.”

Ferg plunged ahead without pausing. “What, like a collaboration?”

“I think he records the albums. He says he has an indie label.”

“You going to do it?” Ferg asked, speaking over Audra and Ty who both congratulated her on the offer.

Kate shrugged. “I need to research it more. Think about it.”

“Just don’t sign anything till I’ve looked at it,” Ferg said.

Malcolm scoffed from his seat next to Ty. “Are you an expert on contracts?” He shrugged and leaned back in a relaxed posture, like he saw Ferg as unthreatening. 

Ferg glared at Malcolm, “I’ve seen my share.”

“Whatever,” Malcolm said, rolling his eyes, which settled on Audra. She was ignoring everyone else, conspiring quietly with Ellis, who was seated next to her.

Kate stood. “Anyway, thanks for coming, guys. I appreciate it. Really.”

Malcolm nodded, his eyes still on Audra and Ellis. Ferg said something about not missing it for the world, but his gaze was fixed on the window of Salt and Sugar. Kate followed it, knowing what she’d see. Through the window she caught sight of Ferg’s ex—Emily—behind the counter, her burgundy, scarf-covered head bent as she worked at the espresso machine. The only person paying attention to Kate at all was Ty. His eyes twinkled when their eyes met and he cocked his head to one side as though to suggest getting out of there. Kate smiled.

“Well, thanks again, guys. I’m going home,” she announced.

Audra’s head snapped up, “You’re leaving?”

“Just going home, no biggie.”

“You’re not going to Lucy’s?”

“Not tonight.”

“Bummer,” Malcolm said, raising his arms above his head in a stretch. He stifled a yawn and stood up, took a sip of his drink and then tossed it in the recycling bin behind their table.

“Well, I’m going, if anyone else wants to come,” Audra announced.

“I’m in,” Malcolm answered immediately.

“As am I,” Ellis said.

“I’ll come too, I guess.” Ferg sighed.

“Does that change your mind?” Audra whispered, leaning close to Kate as she stood up.

“No, I have to get up early. And I still need to finish my laundry,” Kate lied.

“Ty, you coming?” Audra asked him.

“I think I’m going to go help Kate,” he said.

“Boring,” Audra said. “Well, let’s get going guys. Lucy’s is only open for another hour.”

Kate went back to the stage and grabbed her orange amp. The PA system was already dismantled and the guys had folded up the little wooden stage and were carrying it back into the coffee shop. Ty followed Kate, carrying her guitar case slung over his shoulder. “Wait for a second, Kate. Let’s trade,” he suggested, stopping and slipping the case off to hand to her.

“Fine with me.” She let him take the amp, noticing his muscles flex with the weight of it. She averted her gaze, wondering if that was part of his plan—to entice her with his muscular plumage. Peacocking. He had to be peacocking. Kate put on the backpack-style case.

“I need the workout,” he explained, his dark shirt tight around his arms. They resumed the walk up the street to Kate’s house.

“In that case, give it back. I need the workout ten times more than you.”
Let’s see how determined he is to carry it,
she thought wryly.

“Sorry, no dice. In this relationship, I’m the pack-mule,” he said, miming a driver flicking a whip. 

“That’s not exactly the animal I’d choose for you.”

“What would you pick? A stallion? A stallion, right?”

“Well, I guess that remains to be seen,” Kate responded with a coy smile. She was caught off guard by her surprising, flirtatious tone, so she kept her face turned away.
I don’t talk like this in real life. This is how I am in dreams.
She wondered if the two worlds were merging, in some way. Or her two selves, really.

Ty laughed. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as they stopped at the intersection and waited for the traffic light to change. Beneath the luminous halo of a streetlamp, Kate saw his cheeks redden.

“I was talking about whether or not you can carry that amp all the way to my house without complaint, not—whatever you were thinking,” she lied, trying to sound casual. 

“Are you telling me you can read my thoughts?” he asked, shifting the amp to his other hand. The disbelief and teasing tone were unmistakable. The traffic light changed and they headed across. Tendrils of heat curled up from the pavement, swirling around Kate’s bare legs and a cloud of vehicle exhaust stung her nose and eyes.

“Would you still hang out with me if I said yes?”

They continued up the northbound street, passing the soup place and the Scientology building. Trees lined the sidewalk and the shadows deepened beneath each tree where they were shielded from the yellow light of the street lamps.

“Foul,” he said, laughing. “There’s no way I can answer that and still be cool. If I say no, then you’ll suspect me of having bad motives or being unfaithful in thought. If I say yes, you’ll think I must be the dullest guy you’ve ever met, intellectually speaking.”

“So you’re worried I can
actually
read your thoughts?” A group of bike enthusiasts passed them, some of them riding extremely modified machines—one had a seat-post and steering column that were almost ten feet tall.

“Whoa, did you see that?” Ty asked, stopping and turning around to watch the group recede down the street.

“Yeah, I think a bunch of them live up the street from me. Weirdos,” Kate said, shaking her head.

“You think so?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe? I just don’t see the point in some of their bike modifications.”

“Fun? Just because they can?” Ty speculated as they continued up the street.

“Probably. I just don’t get it,” Kate said, waving a dismissive hand.

“So you’d never make a bike like that?” he asked, pointing the direction they went. He switched the amp to his other hand.

Kate pretended to think about it. “Um, no.”

“Not the adventurous type, eh?”

“Just not adventurous with bikes.”

“Then what? What are you adventurous with?”

Kate could hear the grin in his voice and wondered if he was looking for something specific. She cleared her throat. “You know, the usual. Rock climbing, bouldering, that seems pretty adventurous, right? I like to hike. Uh, I’m not afraid to try new foods.” They crossed the final street before Kate’s flat. Plinking sounds came from the driveway of a nearby house where a man had his head beneath the hood of his car, tinkering. Muffled voices rose from a group of smokers out on a porch further up the street. Kate imagined she could almost smell the stench of the cigarettes

“And what adventurous foods have you tried?” Ty asked.

“Uh, let me think,” she said, suddenly unable to remember anything remotely interesting. “OK, yeah, squid. I tried squid once.”

“Right on! I love calamari,” he said, sounding excited.

“No, not calamari. It was literally just a plateful of tentacles. Like as though the tentacles were supposed to be spaghetti noodles. They were in a dish, some kind of nasty Korean dish.”

“So . . . you didn’t like it?”

“No, but that’s not the point, is it? I tried it. That’s the point,” she explained, suddenly concerned that he’d find her adventurous spirit wanting, just because she didn’t like squid.

“Hmm, I guess. The jury is still out on whether or not you’re adventurous enough.”

Kate glanced at him, feeling defensive, and caught the gleam in his eye as they climbed the stairs to her front porch, where light from the front room spilled out the picture window. “Gee, thanks,” she said. She was beginning to feel like any relationship with him was a lost cause. The defeatist side of her whispered that she should give up and let the seams burst that she’d stitched up around the lopsided parts of her personality. That was how she kept it all in. Kept it hidden.
See if he likes me then,
a voice in her head seemed to say. 

Kate pulled the keys from her messenger bag and unlocked the door. Ty followed her inside where he set the amp down. He rubbed his fingers together, massaging them a bit.

“Well. I’m impressed and I guess you’re a stallion. You didn’t complain at all, well done,” Kate observed as she dropped her bag on the floor and slipped out of her backpack-style guitar case. She leaned it against the cinderblock and plywood bookcase. “Audra would have—” she began, turning. Without warning, Ty took her in his arms, backed her against the wall and kissed her.

Wait, what?
Kate’s thoughts scrambled to catch up. Ty’s mouth tasted of mint. His breath filled her as he moved in deeper. It happened so quickly that she was receptive just out of confusion, and, well, to be honest, it wasn’t like she didn’t want it to happen.

She wanted this, didn’t she?

One hand came to the side of her face, the other touched her waist, tentatively. Beneath the delectable flavor of him, there was a hint of chocolate, and then just that, that one taste—the one that flipped a switch in her, shut down reason and turned on desire.

His hips pressed into her, and she felt his knee curve around her thigh. A groan crept up into her throat and she couldn’t hold it back.

If he didn’t stop soon, Kate was afraid she’d begin tearing his clothes off. She opened her eyes to see if he was showing any signs of letting up and was surprised by the half-lidded, green eyes staring at her.
Huh,
she thought drunkenly,
I didn’t know he had green eyes.
There was a soft tone in his expression and a powerful lust pulled at the edges of his expanding pupils. 

She managed to sort through the hormones of desire coursing through her blood to discover her hands, folded against his chest, like she’d been tranquilized by his lips. Her fingers responded to her commands and moved slightly, and then she found the strength to push him away. Their mouths disconnected and his coarse fingers slid down her jaw, trailing along like lightning until they reached her chin and drifted away as gentle as an electrified summer breeze. 

He tilted his forehead until it touched hers. The hand that just left her cheek came to rest like a sunbeam on her arm. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now, Kate,” he said. He was so close to her. She still felt the length of his body pressed against hers. Every nerve ending was aflame. Her thighs tingled, her gut screamed, “Take me! Take me!”

And . . . all she could think about . . . was Will.

She closed her eyes and smiled, “It was nice,” she heard herself saying. Visions of mad, crazy, passionate sex between herself and Will played like an ill-timed movie in her head—it was deflating and it pulled her out of the moment with Ty. She felt slightly embarrassed, and it reminded her of the time when her parents walked in as all the sex-starved nuns told brave, pure Lancelot that he was going to have to perform oral sex on them. It happened during high school—the first time she’d seen
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
—and the show was ruined. Of course. Because they made her turn off the TV in an embarrassed flurry of activity.

Kate’s guts weren’t screaming for Ty, they were begging for Will.

Shut up,
she told them.
I can do this. I can forget about Will. I need to. I have a life. Ty is real. Will is a figment of my dreams.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the musk of Ty’s skin. The fragrance was of oil and sweat seared by daylight, the sweetened kiss of that yellow orb, and there Kate was, tasting it with her nose and it was bringing her to life, but all she could remember of late was how it felt to be with Will. Being with anyone else was just a shadow of what it was like with Will.