Page 7 of Spark

Ruby’s the smartest person I know, so I’m surprised she keeps overlooking the obvious .

Cooper. He’s the first boyfriend Ruby’s ever invited to join our tour, and I really, really didn’t like having him around.

I didn’t like watching the possessive way he treated Ruby.

Didn’t like watching him sitting around writing songs with her for his band to use.

Didn’t like his penchant for PDA. And on and on.

I scoff. “I don’t have trouble sleeping at home, even when I’m sex-starved and horny.”

“But at home, you’re in your own comfy bed and strangers aren’t shouting in the hallway outside your room. Plus, your schedule isn’t crazy, and you’re probably not drinking like a fish, like you do on tour.”

“God, I hope not.”

“Don’t you dare turn into C-Bomb on me.”

“I’m in no danger of that.” Ruby is of the opinion that our good friend, Caleb “C-Bomb” Baumgarten, the iconic drummer of Red Card Riot, should be in rehab and anger management counseling.

“What have you tried so far to combat it?”

With a sigh, I list off everything: guided meditations, weed gummies, melatonin, booze, and a heating pad applied to various strategic places on my anatomy.

“Hmm,” Ruby says, tapping her chin. “What else could it be, then?”

I clear my throat. “It’s got to be the quarterback. It’s definitely not the lack of sex, because I beat off every night, which is basically the same thing as sex to my body and brain. ”

Ruby scoffs. “Beating off isn’t nearly as calming as sex with another human. For men, anyway.”

My eyebrows ride up. “You’re implying it’s something different for women?”

Ruby snorts. “Ask any woman, at least those who have sex with men, and she’ll tell you getting busy with a vibrator is way, way better than sex with any man. At least, in terms of her orgasm count.”

I’m appalled. “Is that how it is for you?”

“Of course.” She looks at me like I’m dumb. “Babe, if we needed all men to band together to save the world by harnessing screams of ecstasy, like an X-rated version of the monsters in Monsters, Inc. , we’d all be doomed.”

I crack up. “That’s not true.”

“I’m not trying to offend you, my darling, but unless your dick vibrates, has multiple speeds and options, and doesn’t come with any emotional baggage, clinginess, anger management issues, emotional unavailability, and/or jealous rages, you’re not going to get the job done better than any woman’s battery-operated-boyfriend.

In my case, his name is Bruno, and he literally never fails me, unlike every boyfriend I’ve ever had. ”

“Bruno?” I ask with a laugh.

“He’s my longest relationship.”

This bombshell makes me want to offer Ruby my services to prove her wrong. But since I can’t do that, I pick up my drink and say, in the most casual tone I can muster, “I think I’d give Bruno a run for his money, honestly.”

“I’m sure you would.” She pats my hand. “For a mortal man. But we’re off topic again. Your insomnia. What about therapy? Maybe that will help you deal with the quarterback who’s stolen your dream.”

“He’s not torturing me. He merely annoys me.”

“Okay, well, it seems to me he’s thrown you into some sort of an existential crisis. For the past couple months, you’ve seemed agitated and stressed, and that’s so unlike you.”

Yeah, I wonder why. “I think it’s just one of those things, babe. Let’s drop it.”

Ruby taps her chin. “What if it’s more about the lack of human contact than the lack of sex itself? You slept in a tiny bed with Kai for years as a kid, right? After your dad died?”

Thanks to our countless conversations over the years, Ruby knows, after our dad died, when I was four and Kai was seven, we had to cram into one small bed together for years, when our grandma and grandpa came to live with us to help our grieving mother.

“It’s an interesting theory.”

That’s all Ruby needs to leap into action. She throws back the rest of her drink and hops off her stool. “Come on, birthday boy! I think we’ve found the answer!” She extends her hand. “I’m going to cuddle you to sleep!”

I don’t move. “What?” I’m equal parts elated and terrified about this idea.

For one thing, there’s a risk I could pop a boner against Ruby’s leg if she cuddles me too close.

But then again, what are the odds of that happening after so many years of genuine friendship?

Maybe, at this point, my brain has convinced itself she’s truly like a sister to me, rendering my body incapable of having that kind of a physical reaction to her closeness.

Ruby’s certainly fallen asleep against my shoulder a thousand times in buses and on planes, and my dick always remains limp. Plus, the girl rides my back every goddamned time she has a drop of alcohol, and that’s never been a problem for me.

On the other hand, I’ve never gotten into an actual bed with Ruby. Especially not when we’re all alone.

My mind racing, I ask, “What if one of our bandmates sees you coming out of my room at the crack of dawn? ”

“You think I’d leave at the crack of dawn?” She snorts. “Sir, I need my beauty sleep.”

“They might think something’s going on between us.”

Ruby scoffs so loudly, the sound not only hurts my ears, it hurts my feelings. “Nobody would ever think that. They all know you’re my best friend—like a brother to me. Now, stop acting like a weirdo and come on. I’m excited to test my theory about this.”

Still, I remain frozen. “Have you ever slept in the same bed as Titus?”

“Lots of times. At our grandma’s, we always had to do that, and it wasn’t weird in the slightest.”

“As adults , though? Have you ever cuddled Titus in a bed, as an adult?”

Ruby scowls. “Well, no. But so what? If Titus was suffering from chronic insomnia, and I had the brilliant idea that cuddling him might cure the problem, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Why not? Only a pervert would have a problem with that.

So, come on, the only way to prove you’re not a pervert is to come with me. ”

I chuckle. “That was brilliant logic, even for you.”

“Thank you. I thought so.”

Fuck it. Sighing, I take Ruby’s hand and rise from my stool. “Okay, cutie. Cure me. Save me. Through any means necessary.”