Hailey slept through most of the day after their exertion. To her dismay, her dreams only played it again. She watched in horror as she called out "Brian." Which confused the hell out of Tom. He would have understood "Tom" or even "Dickie" but never what she'd said.Tom wasn't angry. Casual sex, as he philosophized, was where you could imagine you were boinking whoever. It didn't matter.
Hailey found a robe and threw it on. She climbed downstairs and found Tom on the couch, crouching over a book. "You're not mad, are you?"
"No," he said honestly.
"Why aren't you mad? You have to be mad! I call out a stranger's name instead of yours!"
"I told you: I'm not Dick. I don't want to hurt you," he said, putting down the book. "I love you."
"You can't," Hailey stated firmly, "because I hate you."
He laughed. "You and I both know that's bull shit."
"I don't love you. It's not going to work. You're going to tour and I'm at work constantly."
"We'll make it work."
"No, Tom, we won't. We will not work. Got it?"
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." She gave him a hug.
"We're still friends, right?" he asked hopefully.
"Tom, of course. We've done it before. This is no different."
He blushed slightly. Only rare occasions had he ever blushed. One time he had blushed when Savage Living and their girlfriends (except Tal, who'd just come out and broke up with his girlfriend). Tom was supposed to tongue Freddie's girlfriend, Jessi.
Jessi was a slut. There weren't any better terms for her. She had 7-11 legs: open twenty-four seven. Couldn't close them if her life depended on it. Not that it would make much of a difference anyway. She was white, big-breasted with too much make-up on. An utter opposite of what Tom liked.
Without a hesitation, Jessi had jumped into Tom's lap and frenched him desperately. She had even stooped to putting her hands on his chest benath his shirt. After the game, Freddie dumped her. He did drink like mad, but Freddie was not blind, nor very stupid.
And that was when Tom blushed. He had looked even more like a tomato when the bottle landed on Freddie.
Hailey smiled. "I can't believe you had the balls to french Freddie..."
Tom rolled his eyes. "He's a wonderful kisser," he joked sarcastically. "His lips tasted of vodka, though."
He looked at her, studying her. He remembered every inch of her sweet skin. "Why did you scream his name anyway? I thought you didn't want to mess with him."
"I don't know. It just came out. I was surprised too."
"You like him."
"He's just a story. Nothing more."
The truth was that Hailey had remembered that morning she'd interviewed Brian on his stomach. She saw Brian, not Tom. Except in the intervew he had more clothes on...
A knock on the door. Tom answered it.
"Hi, Tom!" Courtney greeted. She looked past his shoulder, waved to Hailey and squeaked another hello.
"Whatchya up to?" Courtney asked Hailey, giving her a peck on the cheek.
"Nothin'," Tom said, making sure to shoot a warning look at Hailey.
"Liar. I know you two too well. So," she smiled, crossing her long, slim legs, "how do you guys like to do it? Doggie-style? Hailey on top or Tom? Personally, I like the shower -"
"Freak," Tom said, rolling his eyes.
She put up her hands, "Hey, I'm just askin'! Besides, I've never seen Sir Shag-a-Lot in action in a long time. Looong time." She winked at Tom.
"Probably not as good as Brian." He looked innocently at Hailey. He grinned and mouthed, "Oops!"
"Brian?"
"He's no one. I didn't do anything to him. Tom's just jealous of Brian because I spent one week exclusively to Brian and not him."
Tom stuck out his tongue. The phone rang and he ran to the kitchen to pick it up.
"Hailey, it's for you," Tom teased, "It's Briiian!"
Hailey took the phone and walked into the kitchen.