Page 60 of A Crazy Kind of Love
“That would be dumb.”
“Yeah.” I knocked his chin with my fist. “Don’t be dumb.”
“But I will quit smoking. My mom’s gonna love you for that.”
The door rattled with the clattering of keys, and then Zion came in. “I thought you were going to—” He stopped dead. His eyes grew three sizes when he saw Micah sitting half-naked at our kitchen table.
The thought hit me a second later.Micah Sinclair was sitting half-naked at our kitchen table.
It hadn’t seemed so extraordinary until I thought I’d need to hand Zion a tissue to wipe the drool from his chin. Micah had nothing on but those stupid shorts. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. For a guy past thirty, he had the body of a twenty-five-year-old gym rat.
“Micah, can I ask you something?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How do you look so good when you drink, smoke, eat like shit, and apparently never go to the gym?”
He beamed. “You think I look good?”
I snapped a dish towel at him. “What’s your secret?”
“Amplifiers.”
Zion got a knife and sat at the table to help cut up the peppers. “Amplifiers?”
Micah pointed at the peppers. “Should I be helping with that? It doesn’t look too hard.”
I shook my head. “You just keep us entertained. Tell us about your magic amplifier regimen.”
“Okay, but give me a second. I feel weirdly out of place suddenly.” He stood and headed into my bedroom.
Zion blew through his lips. “I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”
But sure enough, Micah returned, pulling a shirt over his head. He started talking before he’d even gotten to the table. “So do you guys know how heavy amplifiers are? They are crazy heavy.”
“Do you bench them?” Zion asked.
“Close enough. I push those suckers down hallways and up ramps at least once a week. It’s a workout.”
“Don’t you have roadies?” I hadn’t seen him push a single amplifier when we’d left his show.
“Well, yeah. But I help. And they don’t come and unload everything into our practice studio. We aren’t made of amplifiers and roadies.”
Zion stopped chopping. “Don’t the venues have their own sound systems?”
“Not always. During the summer we play some gigs outside in places where they have nothing but a stage. And carrying all the equipment . . . The drums take us about forty trips. Most of the drum pieces are small but all that walking. It burns a lot of calories.”
The skillet had heated up, and I started browning the onions. When I threw on the meat, Micah started making sex sounds from the delicious smells filling the kitchen.
Zion set plates on the table and put the tortilla wraps in foil to heat in the toaster oven. “Micah, could you open a bottle of wine?”
The poor thing wanted to do what Zion asked, but he shot a glance at me. “Wine?”
“Zion drinks. You can drink, too.”
Zion reached into the cupboard for two wineglasses. “Josie, you could have a little, right?” He hesitated, then pulled down a third glass.
“I guess I’m having wine tonight.” I started plating the veggies and meat.
