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Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
Although Jonesy initially promised me that night that he would take me to see his guitarist the next day, half the summer would go by before I saw anyone that wasn't his family or the townsfolk.
It was a warm July night when the proposition finally came up. I spent the entire afternoon in the garden with Debbie and his mother only to soon retire from gardening and spend the next few hours washing off the day in his porcelain tub.
A soft knock on the wood causes me to emerge from the bubbly water to the surface. "Come in it's unlocked."
In walked John in his usual get up, a cotton long-sleeve and flares. He sat on the edge of the tub, grabbed the shampoo bottle, and began to lather my hair up with the rosey perfume.
"We're all going out tonight, to celebrate the success of Houses of the Holy and I would appreciate if you came with me. You can never fail with a beautiful woman on your arm." He proposed, and I relaxed into his hands that massaged the rich cream into my scalp.
"I'd love to but I have nothing to wear."
"Don't worry about that. Anything you need I have, and if I don't, I'll get it for you."
I indulged myself in the tranquility of the moment. The melancholic sound of Otis Redding spilling from the record in the corner, the sweet aroma of roses that hung heavy in the room, and John's meticulous fingers in my hair. It all felt too good.
"Is that a yes?"
"Of course." I moaned as he grabbed the jar that sat on the counter, and rinsed my hair clean of impurities. "Will your guitarist be there?"
