Free A Kiss and a Cuddle by Sophie Sloane Page A

him,” I laughed a little bit too hard, then
started to blabber on.  “I think he has gone crazy.  I mean, those song lyrics
were pretty crazy, right?  Like, who sings about Rapunzel?  That’s just clearly
crazy, made-up, nonsense stuff.”
    Rex
gave me a quizzical look like I was a madwoman, but then the next song started
loudly and the crowd cheered again.  We turned our attention to the stage as
the guitar chords thundered throughout the bar.  Phew, I thought I was safe. 
Good covering up, Rose.  That was completely natural.

FIFTEEN
    After
the gig that night, the taxi took all four of us back downtown, and Rex and I
sat on a bench on Larimer Street for a while before saying good night.  Johnny
and Clive said that they would go for a short walk downtown to give us some
space, but I was sure that they were still watching us from a hidden window or
from behind a tree.
    Rex
put his arm around me, and I snuggled close to try to stay warm.  The air was
crisp, and our cheeks and noses were pink with cold.  The sky was completely
clear and black, and if you looked up, you could see the speckling of stars
despite the bright city lights.  Out of the whole world and galaxy, there was
nowhere else I would have wanted to be.
    “So,
next time I see you, are you going to cook me dinner?” he asked with a grin,
and he put his other hand on my knee.
    “Ha! 
If you know what’s good for you, you won’t want to eat my cooking,” I replied
honestly and put my hand over his.
    “Oh
really?  So you aren’t a domestic goddess?” he asked, half joking, but probably
half disappointed that I wouldn’t ever be the wife to bring him breakfast in
bed or cook a pot roast dinner on Sunday.
    “No
way.  I’m a singer.  That’s what I do.  Cooking is not my forte.  Besides, do
you think that Beyoncé ever has to cook?  Come on.  There are some household
duties you can refuse when you are a superstar.  Or when you’re as hot as
that.  Haven’t you ever heard of the ‘hot crazy matrix’?”
    “The
hot crazy what?” he asked.  The matrix obviously hadn’t made its way across the
Atlantic yet.
    “The
hot crazy matrix.  There is a horizontal x axis labelled ‘hot’, and a vertical
y axis labelled ‘crazy’.  Within the graph, there are areas labelled as ‘no go
zone’, ‘fun zone’, ‘date zone’, and ‘wife zone’.  The premise is that the
hotter the girl is, the crazier she is allowed to be, and guys will still date
her.”
    “That
is utter nonsense,” he replied.  “So you are saying that you are so hot, you
don’t have to cook, and you can be crazy?”
    “Something
like that,” I friskily teased.  “But for me, the vertical y axis should be
labelled ‘lack of cooking skills’, not ‘crazy’.  But who knows, if you play
your cards right, I will treat you and whip up my speciality, Hamburger
Helper.”
    “Oh
my, I’m not sure I want to play my cards right, then!” he joked. “Luckily for
you, I am an old-fashioned romantic who likes to treat his lady.  You won’t
need to be a slave in the kitchen with me.”
    “That’s
alright by me,” I replied.  “Do you really consider yourself a romantic?”  Not
many men these days would admit to that.  Usually now was about the time my
romantic interests would start the ‘I’m not looking for anything serious’
speech, just in case I let myself start to think he was a decent, different
guy.  Rex, however, was letting me fall into the fantasy.
    “Most
definitely.  I do believe in true love, and I do believe that once you have
found that person, you should never let them go,” he said softly.  “That is
something my mum used to tell me.”
    “I
see,” I said encouragingly, hoping that he would continue to open up and tell
me more.
    “I
realize now that it was a harder lesson for my dad to learn.  I mean, when my
mum was taken from us, he didn’t know what to do.  She was the focus of his
whole life.  Did you know that