Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You look more like a former football player to me than a nerd.”
I laughed. “I was painfully thin until my early twenties. I started going to the gym and bulked up a bit after I moved to LA.”
“To fit in with the cool crowd?”
“In a way, maybe. It wasn’t intentional. You go through times in your life when you try to be what everyone else wants. The obedient son, a hardworking citizen, a good boyfriend or husband…and then realize you’re not paying attention to yourself. You lose yourself in everyone’s expectations. It took me until my thirties to let that go and do what felt right for me.”
“That’s a nice goal. I think people get the impression I do that naturally. I don’t.” Justin kicked his feet in front of him and looked down at his sneakers. “Family expectations kill me. I’m neutral territory for my mom and my brother. And it’s a lot of work being the go-between. It stresses me out.”
“You should go to the gym,” I teased.
“You know I hate the fuckin’ gym.”
I chuckled and put my arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple affectionately. “I remember.”
He looked surprised, but he didn’t pull away. “That’s what music is for. And video games.”
“And sex,” I added.
“Good point. Let’s see, you have an in-home gym, a music studio, a video console with a ton of games…and me. You never have to leave home.” Justin grinned mischievously, then popped a piece of pretzel into his mouth.
I traced his ear with my thumb and nodded. “True. My friends think it’s becoming a problem. I like staying home.”
“Then it’s not a problem. Hey, if I had a house like yours, I’d never leave either.”
“It’s cool, but it’s not where I’m from, you know. I didn’t grow up with a pool or a gym membership. I didn’t have Nintendo or—”
“Well, that’s because they didn’t have video games back then. No PCs or cell phones. I bet it was kinda like growing up in the dark ages,” he teased.
I gave him a dirty look before snaking my hand around his neck and rubbing my knuckles over his head. He batted me away with a laugh. All I could think was, Fuck, I want him. I swallowed hard and tried to remember what we were talking about. Oh, right…
“I grew up in the eighties. It wasn’t exactly the dark ages. We had computers and cell phones, smartass. They were just big and weighed as much as you do,” I huffed.
Justin made a funny face, then patted my hand and spoke slowly…and loudly. Like he was talking to a hard-of-hearing octogenarian. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“Very disrespectful. I oughtta turn you over my knee, young man,” I chided playfully.
“I would not be opposed to that,” he quipped, waggling his brows.
We both burst out laughing a moment later. I impulsively tugged at his arm and pulled him closer still, then rested my elbow on the bench behind him. “We’re getting way off topic here. See that couple there…that’s who I want to write a love song about.”
Justin followed my gaze. “The old couple?”
“Yeah. And them too.” I gestured toward the two men standing side-by-side in line at the pretzel store. “See what I mean about body language? Neither is touching, but you can tell they’re in sync. The trick about writing a song like this is to stay away from lyrics that evoke longing. We aren’t writing about what we wish we had. We’re writing about what we know we’re lucky to have. Appreciation, gratitude.”
“And you’re telling me that’s possible to do without sounding cheesy…’cause I’ve got my doubts,” he singsonged.
“I’ll give you a sample line. This just popped into my head. I’m not saying we need to use it, but…‘I want to feel your skin, touch your hair. I want to see you smile and know that you’re there. I want you to be my forever,’ ” I sang in a low and melodic tone.
I didn’t have the range or the sheer vocal power Justin did, but I excelled at writing hooks and forming songs from ideas. And another songwriter would recognize the hook instantly and might know how to build on it. Like playing volleyball with words. Justin was clever and quick-witted. I had a feeling he’d be good at this. I cocked my head and gave him an expectant look when he didn’t reply right away.
“That’s good,” he said carefully. “But ‘want’ is a yearning word. Maybe we should tweak that last line to ‘You are my forever.’ ”
“Yeah, I like that! It could be ‘you are my forever’ or some theme around ‘forever’ or—”
“Okay. Let me think.” Justin tapped his jaw thoughtfully. “Forever friend, forever lover, forever baby, forever guy I want to kick out of bed for snoring, forever girl who posts too many food pics on Instagram. How are we doing here?”