interested; he just wants everyone to know that Andy is the love of his life.
In the end, Justin goes with both options. Juliana leaves with two press releases to write and, after checking her schedule, asks the rest of the band to come in Thursday to input personal notes for the releases. We all agree. I don't have any reason not to help. The guy is one of my best friends, after all.
And it's only getting more and more obvious that he and Andy are soul mates.
Cy waves me off and I take a cab home, pulling my hat down low so that I won't be recognized. I order take-out and have it delivered to the security desk (one of the benefits of our apartment). I eat my hoagie, drink my rootbeer, and sit down at with Cy's laptop because I have nothing else to do and wiping the floor with teenagers with a digital AK47 holds no appeal.
I toss myself onto my bed, leaning against the bed frame and open the laptop on the comforter in front of me. Cy lets me use his computer a lot, but he's got all the administrator settings, so when I log in as myself, there's an email in my inbox notifying me that someone remotely tried to access my email account. I delete the account and send an email from my personal account to Will Martin's office telling them about it. Half an hour later, the office sends back a response that I did the right thing by notifying them. Fans can make a shit ton of trouble if they get into my stuff and started posting as me.
Another twenty minutes later, an email comes through asking me if I personally made a comment on YouTube, or if it might have been whoever got into my account. I respond that it was me, but something makes me click the link they sent, sending me back to the two-minute video where I watched myself make out with Sarah at The Tap. Will Martin's office found it initially, sending it to me so I was aware it existed. I only posted because I needed to reaffirm for myself that Sarah is no longer a part of my life.
I need her safe. I need to know that no one will look at that video and connect her to me. I need to know that my past wouldn't eat her future... Though she's already claimed that it's too late for that.
Ignoring the messages lined up below, I click play and watch the video again. Then again.
And again.
I'm not even aware that I've stuck my hand into my pants and popped the button until a wave of pleasure washes over me. I click play again and let my fist pump, watching Sarah charge the stage, her ponytail swinging, the darkness of the club obscuring what I know to be dark chocolate brown eyes and a light dusting of freckles. Once we start kissing, her pixie face is turned away from the camera, but I can see it in my mind as I continue to rake my hand up and down my cock.
I bring back the memories of the two of us in the backseat of her car, steaming up the windows. In my mind, I lift my hand up under her shirt behind her back, dexterously twisting the latch of her bra until it goes slack in my hand.
When we met, we were both virgins in pretty much every way. Hers were the first breasts I ever tasted. Her lips initiated the first blowjob I ever botched, coming less than a minute into it. Hers was the first pussy I ever tasted, though only for a moment since she was hesitant to let me and asked me to be patient with her on that. If I tallied the time I spent with my head between her legs, it was probably less than two minutes total, but the taste of her hits my memory hard, speeding up my hand, making my back arch.
I hit play again, this time fast-forwarding to the exact moment when I touched her hand to pull her up. From there, I feel like a voyeur, watching myself kiss her, watching my hand slide down over her ass, pulling her even closer.
I feel a shudder ripple through me, down my spine to lodge in my balls. I am so close.
It's the memory of losing our virginity to each other that finishes me.
Zach
I come - cupping my hand