Flesh & Bone - a contemporary romance: The Minstrel Series #2 Read Free Page B

stopped for petrol and bathroom breaks. He found sleeping on the bus easier than sleeping alone in a dark, quiet room. The rumble lulled him to sleep and there was just enough light and motion to keep him from falling too deeply. It was in deep sleep that the bad dreams came.
    Sebastian worried about Yvonne. Though she was cute, she wasn’t sweet by nature. He didn’t mind that. He was just grateful that she had stood by him through all the crap he went through at home when his parents disowned him for pursuing his foolish dream. She was there for him when they weren’t. She was his first real girlfriend and he loved her.
    He wasn’t so sure she loved him in return. Not really. Lately, she’d grown distant, her demeanor cooler than usual.
    They often argued, bickered really, not bonafide fighting. It was their way of communicating. Right? They’d fight and then have great make-up sex. He could do this thing as long as she supported him. He’d bring her on the next tour. He’d sleep better if she were by his side.
    Sebastian had wanted to bring her this time, but the guys had insisted—no girlfriends. But, he was the leader of this band, right? He would put his foot down next time. Yvonne would be with him snuggling through the long hours on the road. Then fame wouldn’t be so bad. The unwanted attention from groupies would wane if they saw he already had a girl on his arm.
    It would be okay so long as Yvonne would agree to come. She was fuming mad when he told her she couldn’t come on this one. It would be just like her to refuse his offer when he invited her next time. Dig her heels in stubbornly. She was like that. Spiteful, sometimes. He’d have to woo her over again, but he was a pro at that.
    It was dark when they pulled into Dresden. Sebastian texted Yvonne. Home in fifteen. Meet me at my place?
    She was there when the bus dropped him off in front of his building, and he breathed out in relief. The worries he’d had concerning her were unmerited. He dropped his guitar case and suitcase by his feet and swooped her up, twirling her in a circle.
    “Oh, I missed you, babe!”
    She smiled a rare smile. “Missed you too, Basti.”
    He kissed her lips, and pressed her thin, little body against his. He was home, and she was here.
    Everything would be fine.

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
    Summer was Eva’s favorite season. Not just because it was warm and sunny most of the time, which of course she did like, but because it was safe. Or at least, safer. The walkways and cobblestone streets were dry and easy to grip with the rubber end of her cane. She left the house in the winter only when necessary because of the ice and snow, so summer was a time of freedom for Eva as well. She moved slowly, but she was mobile and she often visited Luther Square to sit on the wooden benches and stare up at the Gothic steeple of the ancient church.
    Or, if she felt braver and stronger, she’d walk to the end of Alaunestrasse toward the park on the other side of Bischofsweg. Crossing the street there was hazardous and she had to walk an extra couple blocks to get to the crosswalk with stoplights, but it was worth it. Especially on a warm, floral-scented day like today.
    The park was full of people: families with young children playing on the playground, teens and young adults gathering in groups to smoke and drink beer and colas and laugh, cyclists cutting through them on the bike paths.
    Eva wistfully watched one girl pass by on her bike. That used to be her, always on her bike, loving how the wind blew her hair and how her lungs expanded taking in the fresh air. How her leg muscles burned in a way that made her feel strong and athletic.
    But that was before .
    Eva spotted Gabriele and Lennon, the happy soon-to-be-married couple sitting on a blanket with a few of their friends and she watched them from a distance. Gabriele sat cross-legged with her guitar propped over her knees and began to play. Soon a crowd gathered to listen.