DOUBLE TREBLE (A TWIN ROCKSTAR ROMANCE)

by Nikki Wild

  Like getting used to the Alex situation.

  So much of what we did as a rock band relied on instinct. In order to make our instruments sing, shredding our guitars in just the perfect way, we had to be in total synchronicity together.

  It wasn’t something you could be taught. You had to feel the music down in your very bones, draw it out and channel it through your instrument. It had to roar to life in your very movements – the way you stood and the way you stepped.

  Aiden had been right.

  Alex was a liability, and he needed to get the boot. The exposure of his drug use meant that the last few weeks of sloppier playing had a measurable reason, and I could start pulling back all the guitars into sync.

  I could weave us back together as a band.

  Phoenix was getting the swing of things. She was already talented as fuck, so it was just a matter of keeping her from being too nervous. That would come with time.

  I was more worried about myself.

  She was so fucking gorgeous that it was a goddamn distraction at times. I lost a quick cue at that first show, and if I didn’t keep a clear head, I’d make that same stupid mistake twice.

  Luckily, Phoenix didn’t need babysitting on stage. She loosened up a lot over that first night, so I could focus more on shredding licks and flaunting my sexiness for the fans.

  My ears pricked.

  “Without further adieu…”

  That sounded like the signal.

  Aiden turned and pointed at Carter, who immediately lifted his drumsticks together over his head, clanging them in time and shouting, “A-one! A-two! A-one, two, three, four!”

  And away we went.

  The electricity coursed through my veins as I threw down hard on the lead guitar. The wicked energy of our set tore through me as I performed my goddamn heart out, keeping a stray eye out on Phoenix just in case.

  Of course, I didn’t need to.

  Even on the second show, she was kicking ass and taking names. Starting out already pretty loosened up, our sexy new bassist was crushing it through our opening track, Pariah.

  It was a challenging bass song. She’d quietly flubbed a few notes the night before, and had left early to “practice.” Clearly, she hadn’t been lying to skip the after-party. This time, she skipped right through the complicated sections with style.

  I was a pretty mobile guitar player. Instead of staying hooked to one spot, I liked to explore the space while rocking out, careful to keep my guitar cable from getting caught on something.

  Besides just looking cool and feeling awesome, it let me keep an eye on how everyone was doing onstage.

  It was my unspoken role, after all.

  While Aiden kept his back to us most of the time, focusing on the audience and leading their energy, I was the glue that held the stage together. Like a sexual partner that just had to try every position, every couple of minutes I’d change something up while keeping an eye on everyone.

  It meant that I knew what our performance looked like without having to watch the shitty cellphone videos that got posted on youtube.

  That was at least something I had over my narcissist of a brother.

  I was already losing myself to the music, the pick in my fingers flying in a flurry along the guitar. My body was moving without me as I willed the music to happen, letting my limbs work without my conscious effort.

  People love to get outside of their own heads. Trevor had his supply of video games. Carter descended into the madman persona. Aiden used endless casual sex – which was great and all, but didn’t quite do it for me.

  Me? I traded places with my own guitar. I let the thing take control of my body, like it had a mind of its goddamn own.

  Because that’s why I did this: just getting into the zone and forgetting everything, throwing down an incredible stage show, almost watching it like a spectator or an out-of-body experience….

  The disassociation is what I lived for.

  We flew through the set on the wings of something powerful. Trevor was in his own zone, following my lead and helping me weave our guitars together. Carter was firmly in Octopus mode, his dreads and drumsticks flying across the kit.

  Then there was Phoenix.

  She was being seduced by the power. I knew that the siren call of the stage was pulling at her, filling her head with its song.

  Every time that gorgeous girl looked up, her beautiful eyes locking onto mine with that sexy smirk on her cute lips, I could see the beast inside her.

  She needed this now.

  Performing with us was a drug to her, and it was plain as day across her face.

  She grew more confident, more boastful as the set continued. We made eye contact more and more the longer the hour passed. Halfway through the set, we were practically playing at each other, standing face-to-face and swapping dominance during the hectic bridge of our crowd-pleaser Ashes of Discovery.

  The energy was alive.

  And it was strong.

  Right after that song ended, I noticed Aiden give us a curious glance. Phoenix didn’t know him the way I did, so she failed to see the accusation in his stare.

  But I did.

  It almost made me smile.

  He could try and stake a claim on this girl all that he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just going to burn her up.

  But I wouldn’t. I’d nurture this gift and keep his searing, corrupting touch off of her. Phoenix Flynn was a great bass player, and our merry little band honestly needed her.

  This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement until we figured out what to do with Alex, but to be perfectly frank…

  Phoenix was promising.

  So long as she kept up the rhythm, and we didn’t fuck her up too badly, this little arrangement didn’t have to end.

  Aiden was taking the time to have a brief chat with the audience. He knew how to stoke the fires of a crowd, and he dumped proverbial tinder onto the blaze with his typical trademark flair.

  The point was to give the rest of us a few minutes to chill out and calm down after the hard songs. There were still a few heart-pounders later in the set, but this marked the halfway lull point where we threw in some of the easier stuff.

  His energy was necessary here to keep the crowd engaged. When we had more songs under our belt, we’d revise this whole portion, but until then this was what the rest of us considered the breather.

  “And how about our new bassist?” Aiden chuckled over the mic, throwing out a hand Phoenix’s way. “Ain’t she something?”

  A crowd of beers and fists flew into the air with a cheer.

  My brother pulled the mic from its stand and sauntered over our way. I suppressed a deep groan as he stood directly between us, focusing on her.

  She shrank slightly under the undivided attention, but he didn’t seem to care. “Phoenix here is one of the best bassists we’ve ever heard!”

  I knew what he was doing.

  This was a domination tactic. He wanted to secure his place.

  “Isn’t that right?”

  The mic was suddenly in my face.

  “Damn right she is! This chick is–”

  Just like that, he’d pulled it away and turned back to her again, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

  “I’m nervous,” she tried to tell him, realizing too late that the mic was picking her up. I could see her go red with embarrassment when she heard herself over the speakers.

  “Not too worry!” Aiden laughed into the mic, mussing her hair affectionately – or possessively, depending on how you looked at it. “You’ll get used to this if you stick around with us! I don’t know though, let’s put it up to a vote!”

  He turned to the crowd. “Give it to me, all you fuckers in favor of Phoenix sticking around!” He held out the microphone.

  The crowd roared.

  I cast Phoenix a sympathetic look and a shrug. She was too new to this to be dragged into Aiden’s spontaneous stage theatrics, and the irritated look on her face
said that she didn’t appreciate the sudden scrutiny.

  “And not?” He called out.

  There were a few people who belted out some incoherent insults or something, but the rest of the room was quiet.

  I made eye contact with Phoenix and mouthed the word sorry. She shook her head and smiled faintly, trying to brush off Aiden’s swaggering and get back into her bassist headspace.

  Just in time for Aiden to glance past us, looking over at Carter.

  “Lead us off!”

  Carter started counting off the beats, and I shook my head bitterly. Aiden could try all he wanted to stake his claim. But he could only do so much from up there, and Phoenix was there at my side, where I could swoon her with my soulful rocking all set long.

  And that’s exactly what I did.

  After enough nights of this, Phoenix Flynn would be in my bed, moaning my name.

  Phoenix

  What an amazing goddamn night. That was even more fun than the first show. Luckily, I didn’t suffer from too much stage fright, and I was rapidly growing comfortable with sharing the spotlight with Decadent Desires.

  It seriously helped that Dylan was there.

  Unspeakably sexy as he was, he was sweet underneath. I could tell that he was trying to keep just enough attention off me, watching me play and supportively guiding me through the set.

  And I felt something crackle between us when we were playing to each other right before the halfway point. That hungry, soulful look in his eyes made my panties a goddamn shock hazard with all those amps and cables around.

  It had felt like we were flirting through our chords, speaking a language that only we heard. That’s probably why Aiden got so butt-hurt and wandered over to break it up, just like a stern schoolteacher strolling over with a ruler at a junior high dance.

  Whatever.

  He was hot too.

  But I wasn’t about to fuck either of them, no matter the sexual tension thick enough to be cut with a knife, or the wet dreams that filled my nights…

  After we played the Unbroken encore, we sent our love out to the crowd and wandered offstage, bumping straight into our guide, the venue manager – a polite, highly strung middle-aged woman with her hair up in a bun and a clipboard in her hands.

  A couple of stagehands walked past us in the hall, heading on their way to break down our equipment for us. We gave them customary fist-bumps and thanked them in advance for taking care of our gear.

  The venue manager was leading us to the after-party area. We already had a backstage room set up for us to relax after the show, chilling out with a local outfit called Brass Stacks.

  The fans who had opted for the pricy premium tickets would be joining us, along with those who paid whatever VIP membership fee the venue claimed.

  Not every venue did this, Trevor had explained to me. They’d only been to a few of them themselves. But the way that he described them, they were usually pretty damn fun.

  “Here we are!” The manager smiled, popping open a door and brushing us inside. “Open bar in the corner, couches, food… whatever you need.”

  The room was small, but it’d be perfect. I didn’t expect many people were going to be here, anyway. A few simple red couches and an armchair were set out, and a mohawked bartender smiled at us from behind the bar. A table had been set up with the classic food of the road: a stack of greasy delivery pizzas.

  “How about some condoms?” Trevor winked. “I’m always hot after a show.”

  The manager didn’t even flinch. She’d probably dealt with a whole lot worse than anything my band-mates were going to put her through tonight.

  “There’s a box under the bar. Ask Barker over there if you need anything.”

  She had to jet, so the manager left us to our devices.

  That meant quickly convincing our kickass bartender to take a few rounds of shots with us, then kicking back on the seats with fresh slices and beers.

  “Man, that was the best goddamn show we’ve ever played by miles!” Trevor beamed, a gigantic smile across his face.

  “I have to agree,” Carter quietly added, having long slipped back out of his manic, extroverted persona. “Last night was the best one in weeks, but tonight was better by a head and shoulders.”

  “No kidding?” I dropped down into the armchair, and I couldn’t help but glance over at Aidan, who was silently munching on a slice of pepperoni. He hadn’t spoken a word since last addressing the crowd. “I guess this sets the bar on where our performances need to be in the future…”

  The opener band, a local outfit called Brass Stacks, finally showed up and quickly raved to us about how much they’d enjoyed our set. After they grabbed drinks and got settled down with some food, we swapped compliments and answered their questions about the touring life.

  It wasn’t long before the VIP folks came into their room. We greeted them as hands were shaken, autographs were signed, and selfies were snapped.

  Once people were drinking and the party was throwing down, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the opener’s female guitarist seemed to be focused on Aidan.

  She was definitely beautiful – long hair, dyed purple, with cute snakebite piercings on her lip. A pang of something struck in the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it.

  Part of their conversation faded into earshot, and I couldn’t help but listen.

  “So, you’re Aiden Carpenter, huh?” She cooed, running her fingers through her hair coyly. “I’d love to hear whether or not you live up to the reputation.”

  The reputation.

  The way she said it was so disgustingly matter-of-fact that it reminded me why I couldn’t be with them – either of them. The Carpenter Twins were players, both of them. One was predatory and one was sweet. But all in all, those were just two different weapons to get the same thing: into the pants of the next willing girl.

  “Which reputation is that?” He growled lightly, his eyes lingering on me a second as he turned to her.

  “That you’re packing something even bigger than your voice,” she smiled seductively. “Both of you.”

  Dylan came by with a spare beer, handing it to his brother. “What’s going on over here? Anything exciting?”

  “Just listening to this chick claim Aiden,” I grinned innocently. The Decadent Desires singer threw me an angry look.

  “Oh, is that so?” Dylan leaned against the couch, glancing down at her with a smile and a wink. “Well, she’s cute. You kids go have fun. I’ll keep an eye on our new bandmate for you, bro.”

  I could practically feel Aiden go cold as ice from way over here. His eyes narrowed and his entire being seemed to darken.

  “I’m not interested.”

  The guitarist laughed. “You’re an awful liar. I can see your cock practically gasping for air inside your jeans…”

  I couldn’t help but glance at the tent in his pants and stifled a gasp. She wasn’t kidding, both about her stray comment and that reputation about his ‘gift’…

  My eyes barely connected with Aiden’s, and he had a triumphant grin on his face.

  Goddammit.

  “You’ve never turned down willing pussy on a platter before,” Dylan chuckled mischievously. “And she’s right about that dick. Why break a winning streak?”

  Aiden just growled.

  “If he’s not game, maybe you are,” the Brass Stacks guitar girl smirked as she turned her attention to Dylan. “What do you say? Want to take those talented fingers somewhere a little more private?”

  “I think neither of us are in the mood tonight,” Dylan told her. “So we’d appreciate it if you took your offer somewhere else.”

  “Not in the mood? Bullshit,” she laughed. “You’re the goddamn Carpenter Twins. When have you ever not wanted to fuck a hot chick?”

  “Hot?” Aiden grinned evilly. “I think you’re wildly misunderstanding where you fall on the scale, buttercup...”

  Ouch.

  I shook my head at his cruelty as she
puffed up in indignation. Even Dylan turned away out of sympathy, blinking a few times in disbelief.

  That only underlined another key difference between the twins.

  Aiden could be cruel.

  What point was falling for the dark, sexy hunter when that power could easily be used to tear someone down without a moment’s thought?

  I snapped out of my thoughts as Aidan glared over at the Brass Stacks guitarist chick. She’d been trying to regain her lost ground against him, but he wasn’t having any of that.

  “Leave,” he demanded.

  “This as much my party as it is yours,” she laughed, taking another bite of pizza. “I don’t have to go anywhere.”

  The fire in his eyes deepened as Aidan silenced her laughter with an intensely irritated glance. “Harass me again, and I’ll have you thrown out on your fucking ass. Don’t think for a second that I can’t.”

  Dylan leaned in as well. “You’ve had your fun. Now go find someone else to bother.”

  The guitarist chick looked at them. It was clear that she was afraid to call their bluff, so she instead vanished off to chat with some of the VIP kids more her age. I caught her looking over her shoulder, but the twins seemed to have already forgotten her by then.

  Something inside considered this a quiet victory, but I didn’t know why.

  “Shots?” Trevor suddenly asked, showing up with a tray of glass shooters filled with dark liquor.

  I looked up at him in confusion. “Dude, you miscounted. You’re way the fuck off. There must be enough for three rounds here.”

  “Of course!” He laughed. “Let’s get fucked up tonight! None of us have shit to do tomorrow, remember?”

  “Well, we did have a good show,” Carter piped up, rising to examine one of the shooters. “Trevor, exactly what kind of shots did you ask for?”

  “Mystery shots.”

  Carter looked displeased, but shrugged and hit it back. The rest of us followed suit.

  A few minutes later, the shooters were sent back dry, and we were sipping beers and dancing with the crowd.

  It felt so good to just let go.

  Felt good to abandon myself.