In the Absence of You by Sunniva Dee Read Free Book Online Page A

taught me anything it’s that emotional females aren’t conducive to reckless sex.
    I take inventory of the situation: we’re on our way to the airport. To pick up Nadia, not Zoe. If there’s no sex within reach, I’ll probably explode.
    Okay. Okay. We’re twenty-five minutes from the airport. Ninety minutes from the venue. Park the damn bus. Get into the gig. There are always girls loitering outside. I don’t usually look for my little mutual understanding before the after-party, but tonight will have to be an exception.
    Aishe takes my face between her hands and holds me still. “Emil?”
    I can’t meet her eyes. She’s too right here when I’m in need. I bite my lip like a pussy to hold back the panic building inside of me. This is why I write lyrics now, to get rid of stuff.
    “What?” I clear my throat.
    “Do you…”
    I already know she’ll tread closer than she ever has. I close my eyes, not wanting this conversation. It’s not planned, but I end up stroking her nose with mine until our foreheads touch. I don’t prod Aishe to continue. I just tangle into soft hair, pulling her closer, as if she could provide the relief Zoe took with her when she left.
    “Do you need me that much?”
    It’s sad that I can’t say no. I should be a man and stand up straight, let her go, not weigh her down with my unfinished business. But I don’t, because Aishe’s some star, twinkling and as distant as one, while I’m an entitled prick who has lost someone irreplaceable.
    There are surrogates everywhere. I don’t need to corrupt Aishe. In ninety minutes I can find someone to unleash my greed on. I tell myself this. And then I say, “Yeah.”
    My admission is quiet, unmanly, spineless, and her hands slide into my hair and pull my head down over her. Backwards, she moves us onto the sectional. She forms to it with her body, and I’m heavy above her. She draws me closer until I cover her so completely the tip of her nose is all that’s escaping my embrace.
    “Emil,” she whispers, her pitch a hiss of empathy while I work to find as much of her skin as I can. “You don’t believe it now, but time heals. I’m here. I can be what she doesn’t want to be. All you have to do is let me.”

    AISHE
    We’re at The Polka Dot Inn. Which is the silliest name for a club ever. By mentioning this little fact, we’ve already attracted an extended rant from Troll. Apparently, The Polka Dot Inn is one of the oldest, most distinguished clubs in all of America, and now that they’ve raised a heated, outdoor theater, they can house big bands like Clown Irruption.
    “We should all feel honored to be invited here,” Troll grumbled last night on the bus. And didn’t stop harping on it until bedtime. I think we’ve all learned to keep our mouths shut about The Polka Dot Inn.
    The last few hours have been strange. Giant warning signals beep and flash in my brain, telling me to barge out of this situation. All I need is to switch bunks with Irene again, and I’ll be back in safety on the crew bus.
    But my heart is expanding, craving deep conversations with my head. They want to discuss love, crazy love of the kind that feeds the plague, and sometimes my head feels too weak to put up a fight.
    When Emil needed physical nearness so much his lip quivered, I told him it’s only a matter of time until he’s over Zoe. Me, of everyone, told him this.
    Sometimes when I look at him, it’s hard to remember that he’s not of my people. Emil wasn’t born from love fire to love fire. For his frosted-over northern veins, it is true that he’ll be fine soon, and it’s not coercion to insist on it, to make him give me a chance over the memory of someone he couldn’t have. No, no, it isn’t, and I want that chance.
    On the way to the airport, Emil and I had twenty-five minutes for me to release his tension. He shuddered in my hands, until I unzipped his pants and sat down on his lap. It didn’t take long for him to concentrate on our