of all the things I can do
Pink
Is my favorite place to touch you
The guitarist plays, and Jackson points at the crowd, his index finger aimed right at me.
There’s no other place I’d rather be
Than in the pink of you, surrounding me
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“What the hell?” Caleb swivels his head in my direction, gaping at me. “Is he singing about your ah…vagina?”
Gracie slaps his arm. Hayden starts to laugh. Ava is suddenly behind me, gripping my shoulders, her mouth at my ear.
“Pretty sure this song is for you,” she whisper-yells.
Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is, too.
Twenty-Five
Jackson
I played my fucking heart out tonight. Not for the fans, not for my friends. Not even for Rick and his people from Evergreen Records. Tonight wasn’t for any of them.
Tonight was for Ellie.
After our stupid argument the night before, I went over to Caleb and Tony’s and got shit-faced drunk. I couldn’t stop laughing at one point and they all got really pissed at me. They sat me down and gave me a talking to, and after I calmed down, I actually listened. I got real quiet as their words sunk in.
So did Ellie’s.
I’m a selfish dick. And I know it. I’ve been in denial, but my feelings for Ellie have been hiding in plain sight. I was just scared. Scared of fucking up. Scared of hurting her. Scared of getting myself into a situation I didn’t want to be in.
How bad could it be, being with Ellie? I have fun with her. She’s my friend. Even better, I want her. I’m attracted to her. I care about her. We have serious chemistry. I don’t know why I couldn’t admit this to myself sooner.
At least I’ve realized how much she means to me before I fucked it all up for good. Now I just need to convince her that I know what I want.
And that’s her.
I saw her hiding behind Caleb when I first started performing. She didn’t want me to see her, but like I told her last night, I do see her, all of her.
Everywhere she goes.
Pink is, of course, just for her. An ode to Ellie, and everything that she is. Every pretty little part of her, including the pink between her legs. Crude, yes, but fuck it. The words are all true. There is truly nowhere else I’d rather be, than sinking in the pink of her and feeling her surround me.
I performed for over an hour, and before we went on stage, I told the bodyguard who’s on duty backstage tonight that I didn’t want any girls back there except for the list I gave him. No random women sneaking into my dressing room fawning all over me and hoping for a hook up. I’m over that shit. No liquor in my room either. I need to keep a clear head so I can talk to these record people and see what they have to say.
I did some research on Evergreen and I like the company’s message. They seem selective on who they sign, and they have a couple of up-and-coming superstars on their roster. They have big dreams and lots of plans, just like I do. I don’t think I’d get lost in the shuffle with them. They’re not too big of a machine yet.
They’re exactly what I’m looking for. Now here’s hoping the terms are agreeable.
Once I do a couple of encores—what the fuck is this life—I find my way backstage, collapsing in the chair in my dressing room and going through about two and half water bottles before I finally feel like I’ve got enough fluids in me.
There’s a knock at the door before it cracks open, Stu, the bodyguard, peeking his dark head inside. “Your friends are here.”
“Let them in,” I tell him, anticipation thrumming hard through my veins.