The Aviators (A7X)

"Wow, I sound like a sap."

"Jason Denmore, he's a wicked guitar tech, Walter put me onto him."

Michelle and I walk into the house in time to hear Brian raving about some new guy he met in Los Angeles. He is a guitar technician that specialises in working with metal and progressive rock bands. As Brian's rambling on, Matt pokes his head out from the living room and grins, his eyes falling upon the bags we're toting.

"Hey, you're back." He tilts his head at us an expression of wonderment on his face. He is obviously, like all men, pondering the wisdom behind women who buy copious amounts of stuff from their favourite stores, and then never actually using the things they purchase.

I smile in answer. Right now, I don't trust myself to speak. I'll just let my twin do all the talking. Or at least that's my plan, whether she or Matt stick to the script remains to be seen.

Michelle nods, putting her bags on the floor, plastic crinkling as she looks to the other room. "What's Bri going on about?"

Matt shrugs and steps over to take my bags from me. "Just some new guitar tech." He eyes me, a serious expression now on his face. "Have a good time?" He keeps looking at me, waiting for a response.

As I move to step by him, I clear my throat and murmur a quick answer. "Yeah, it was alright..."

I catch Michelle raise an eyebrow at me. I shake my head in her direction. She sighs and heads into the living room. I make to follow her, but Matt stops me, taking my left elbow in hand and pulling me over to the kitchen bench.

"Sit." His tone brooks no refusal.

I slowly slide my ass onto the stool, looking down at my hands. One of my nails is chipped; I play with it. Matt frowns and leans his hip against the bench, examining me. I peer up at his face. There is a furrow in his forehead; his hazel eyes hold an expectant look.

"Valary." He uses my full first name, an obvious sign that I have to talk to him. No getting out of this.

Biting my lower lip, I take several deep breaths, before speaking softly. "Yeah, we had a good time. Did some shopping." I rub my hands on my pants, sweat making my skin feel clammy. I can't explain the feeling. Don't want to explain it. Instead, still rubbing at my pants, I add softly, "Got some new clothes, so I won't have to keep wearing yours."

Matt's lips twitch as he nods a glimmer of laughter in his eyes. But then he asks, "Anything interesting happen?"

That question gives me pause. Here, and now, would be the perfect time to tell him about that guy who came up to us, but at the same time I feel that I don't want to bother Matt with it. Shaking my head, I cast a longing glance toward the living room. I hope he takes the hint.

But, instead, he growls low, leaning into my comfort zone. "Val. Talk to me."

I bite my lip, meeting his stern look. Taking a deep breath I fish into my back pocket and pull out the card the guy left on our table, holding it out to him.

He frowns, lips pressing together in a thin line. "What's this?"

I lift my shoulders, crossing my arms over my breasts. He takes the card and squints narrowly at it, eyes scanning the text. I wait, quietly, watching the expression on his face change as he reads. His eyes darken, lips tightening in a thin line.

He tosses the card onto the bench then pins me with a look. "Who gave you that?"

Breathing out, as I brace my hands against my knees, I say in confusion, "This guy at a cafe Michelle and I were at. He was kind of staring at us. Creeped me out. And then he left that card."