Stevie could feel the warmth of the sun on her bare back, mumbling as her conscious came to. The memory of last night was vague in her head, recalling taking multiple shots after the bands show last night. She knew she smoked a bit as well, but other than that her memory was blank.
Her mouth held an aftertaste of liquor from the night before, wincing. She noticed Lindsey besides her flipping through a magazine, pushing her hair from her face.
"What happened last night?"
"We got married." He said nonchalantly, flipping through the glossed pages. Stevie's eyes bulged, looking over her left hand frantically. Lindsey noticed her panic, chuckling. "I'm fucking with you, we didn't get married."
Stevie nodded in relief, letting out a deep breath.
"We just got hammered, came back here and had sex."
"Oh great." She flopped back against the pillows. "So while I was completely wasted, you had your way with me?"
"Stevie you literally grabbed my dick, I had no other choice."
Her cheeks turned bright red, drawing the covers up over her head. "Oh my god."
"You said a lot of that last night." He smirked at her.
She pulled the blanket from her head, glaring at him. He chuckled, kissing her cheek.
"Did you have fun last night?"
Stevie sighed, reaching for a glass of water on the floor. "From what I can remember, yeah I had a great time."
"Good." He kissed her. "Me too." He crawled out of bed, tugging on a t-shirt. He reached for a pack of cigarettes, shaking the last one out. He lit it and took a drag before handing it to Stevie. "I'm out of smokes, I'm gonna go grab some more. Do you want to come with me?"
Stevie shook her head, inhaling the smoke before letting it flow from her mouth. "No I'll stay back."
Lindsey shrugged, tugging on his jeans. "Suit yourself." He left the room, Stevie settling back in to the bed. She sighed as she glanced around the empty space, boredom setting in.
Crawling out of bed with the cigarette hanging from her lips, she started to straighten their room. She gathered all the dirty clothes in to one corner, and made the bed. She started on the small night stand that served as their dresser, brushing off cigarette butts and throwing away glass bottles. She came a cross a letter with Lindsey's name on it, written in delicate cursive and a heart following. Frowning, she pulled out the scrap of notebook paper, hesitantly reading it.
Hello my little love, I hope you're having fun on the road. I hope you're eating well, I think about you everyday and I can't wait until I can wrap you in my arms. Everything here is fine so there's no need to worry. I love you so much.
R.B
Stevie's eyebrows furrowed together, a frown scorching across her face. She sank down on to the corner of the bed, rereading the letter over and over.
She didn't hear Lindsey come back, jumping when he shut the door behind him.
"Hey." He greeted her.
"Hey, who's R.B?"
"What?"
"R.B." Stevie held up the letter. "The woman who's writing you love letters."
Lindsey let out a big laugh, a cloud of smoke surrounding him from his cigarette. "R.B stands for Rutheda Buckingham. It's from my mother."
