Sticks (Black Addiction #2)

by T Gephart

  “You want a cracker?” My silent staring obviously gave her the heebie jeebies as she angled the box toward me, the dry slices of cardboard holding zero appeal.

  “And deny you your feast. What kind of heartless bastard do you think I am?” I responded, keeping it tight as to what I was really thinking about.

  Not like I could spill now, could I? Not when things were so good with what we had. Besides, we had the kid to think about. No way was I fucking that up.

  “The one who’s still wearing no pants. You want to fix that? I really need to keep my breakfast down, I have work to do today.” She pointed to the towel still slung around my waist, my lack of clothes not forgotten, especially not by me.

  “Yeah, what are you doing?” I became suddenly interested in what kind of work she had to do. Far as I knew she didn’t have any daytime gigs, and her band wasn’t even close to laying down an album, which ruled out the studio. And call me nosey, but part of me just wanted to know what she did when we weren’t together.

  “I’ve got a song I’m working on.” She brushed the cracker crumbs off her sheets before giving me a look of no-big-deal. “I’ve been working on it for a few days.”

  “So, maybe I can help. Think of it as our second collaboration.”

  I had no idea what I was even suggesting. I’d contributed to the stuff we put out but for the most part it was extra window dressing. The hard yards were always done by Angie and Rusty. It’s what worked and I knew better than to rock the boat. But I had enough theory to be able to put something together if I wanted to, I just never wanted to. Now, doing it with her, maybe it would be a good thing.

  “Thanks, Joey but I work better by myself.” She laughed shooting me down without even a second thought.

  “Then look at it as practice, me doing my part for your personal growth,” I offered, thinking maybe there was more I could offer than just the song.

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not a color by number kind of song, Joey. Sometimes the adults need to do their thing.”

  Ouch. Seriously? Sure we threw names back and forth and while I knew I didn’t have a fancy piece of paper on my wall like she did, I wasn’t stupid either.

  “You could still toss some ideas around, I’m a good listener.” I tried a different tactic, hoping she’d see there was more to me than what she knew.

  “It’s really not ready to share. Besides, you’re a drummer. I don’t need to hit things today.” She laughed, completely oblivious to the burn she’d just given me.

  It’s not important, internally I argued. She was going off past experience and the Joey Shaw from three months ago would not have thought sitting down and writing a song was a good time. So I couldn’t be pissed at her that she hadn’t gotten the message it was something I’d now consider. Which up until five minutes ago I hadn’t. Clear as mud, right?

  Besides, it’s not like she was saying no to me but was sitting there writing with Rusty instead. She said she works better alone. It’s not personal, just personal preference, and I shouldn’t be pissed because she wanted to work solo. Hell, some songs Angie wrote she wouldn’t even let Rusty play with until she was done. And those two did everything together. I should let it go, maybe revisit it some other time down the track.

  “Drummers do much more than hit things, string plucker,” I volleyed back, sticking to what we knew. Yeah. It was better this way.

  “String plucker, really?” The is that the best you can do, not needed.

  “Fine, I’ll put my pants on and go.” I threw my hands in the air dramatically, slightly annoyed I had no reason to stick around. “My talent isn’t appreciated here.”

  “I’m going to grab a shower.” She gave me a quick squeeze on the arm, her cue I was overstaying my welcome. “Thanks for staying over. Maybe call me later?” A goodbye-you-can-go-now if ever I’d heard one.

  “Yep, cool. Take care,” I said, like I was waving off a great aunt.

  Maybe The Beatles weren’t the only ones who needed to find their testicles; I should probably jet before I made an even bigger fool of myself.

  “Catch you, Kenz.” I grabbed my clothes and shoes from her bedroom floor and walked out to the living room.

  And after a quick redress and dumping my damp towel in her laundry hamper I grabbed my keys, my phone and headed out the door. The goodbye made easier in that she’d already moved into her bathroom. I tried not to think about her being naked in the same spot I had been. Or that a few footsteps in the right direction would put me in the same location.

  Fuck.

  I needed to get out. I threw my body into my truck and hightailed back home, the distance hopefully cooling the burn.

  “Everything cool, bro?” Max was in his usual spot; in the kitchen with a cup of java in his hand.

  “Yeah, all sorted.” I tossed my keys and phone onto the counter while I got myself a cup. “We are not fucking other people. That’s the rule.” I took a sip of the caffeinated goodness before continuing. “Sorry for bailing on you and Rusty last night. We can do it again sometime soon.”

  “No need to apologize. I’m glad you worked it out.” Like the stand up that he was, he didn’t make an issue of it. The dude always had my back; yesterday had been no exception.

  “You really did me a solid yesterday, saved my ass from making a big mistake.” I didn’t even want to think about how shit would have gone down if I had gone home with Rochelle. Bad. It would have been very bad. And I saw that now even if it had been Max and Rusty who had pointed it out. Thank fuck for that.

  “That’s what friends are for, Joe. Don’t get too sentimental on me.” He cupped my neck and gave it a shake.

  “Seriously, dude.” The words of gratitude I’d given him not even close to being enough. “Anytime you see me going off course, just hit me or something.”

  “Joey, you are going to be fine. Give yourself some credit; you are going to be great.”

  Yep. I definitely had lost my balls somewhere. Max proved how good a buddy he was by ignoring it, another reason why he was my best friend.

  Thankfully my phone chimed with an incoming message before I went full Oprah and started bawling like a baby, the text hopefully being from the girl I’d just left. The preview of the message visible in screen lock.

  “What the fuck?” I stared at my phone like the message was in Chinese.

  “All those dick pics finally catching up with you, huh?” Max laughed, dumping his cup in the sink with no idea on what I was dealing with.

  “No, it’s a message from some douchebag I don’t know.” I reread the message again wondering if I had just misunderstood it. Or like the second time around the letters would leap of the screen and suddenly divulge some other meaning.

  “Well what does it say?” He tipped his head to the phone, not having the same perspective as I had.

  “Got your email. You’re amazing and I’m really into it. Let’s make the magic happen. Dom.” I read out loud the same message I’d scanned at least ten times since it landed on my phone.

  “He sounds like a nice guy, you should invite him over.” Max laughed, thoroughly enjoying that my latest fan was a dude. Not that there was anything wrong with that, I just didn’t play on that team.

  “Why the hell won’t my phone unlock.” I continued to press my four-digit code but got nowhere, the shaking screen taunting me in its denied access.

  “Did you forget your pin number again?”

  That had happened one time, not like I made a habit out of it. I stared at the screen for a beat before I suddenly realized the answer was really fucking obvious.

  Like staring me in the face.

  Literally.

  “Ohhhhh.” I smiled; glad the mystery had been partially solved.

  “What?” Max asked once again out of the loop.

  “This is Kenzie’s phone.” I turned it in my hands to show him the screen locked picture of her and Sara smiling broadly behind the glass. “I must have picked up hers
by accident.” In my agitation over the message I’d completely not noticed.

  “Well there you go, crisis averted. Dom doesn’t want you.” Max laughed like it was somehow okay that the message wasn’t for me. Right now I would have preferred if the message was fucking for me.

  “No, he wants Kenzie, and that is soooooo much better.” An irrational pang of jealously washed through me. ’Cause getting territorial over a chick I wasn’t dating made all the fucking sense in the world.

  “Fuck, dude.” Max blew out a breath, the two-and-two coming together in his melon as well as mine.

  “She obviously had this guy in play before we’d had our talk.”

  Kenzie wasn’t the type of girl to play me; that I knew. But who this asshole was remained a mystery, and what he might want with her made me uncomfortable. Shhh, you hear that? That’s the sound of my mind exploding with a bunch of emotions I didn’t understand.

  “Well, from the sounds of things she hasn’t done anything.” He took the phone out of my hand and read the message for himself. “And almost doesn’t count.”

  “Yep.” Not sold. Not even close.

  “Look, give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe ask her when you give her back the phone.” Ever the diplomat, Max tried to run interference. It’s not like he didn’t know I was my own worst enemy, especially when left to my own devices.

  “You know what, no. And you’re not going to say anything either.” I snatched the phone out of his hands and placed it on the counter. Dom could go get fucked, he had a snowballs chance in Hell before I’d let him anywhere near her. I didn’t give a fuck about whatever magic he wanted to make happen. He could find his own girl. Yeah, because she was sooooo much more mine than his. Shut up, I screamed at my inner logic, the bastard not adding anything helpful.

  “Joey, don’t do anything stupid,” Max warned, his eyes tracking me as I shifted on my feet; my skin feeling like it was crawling with ants.

  “No, no. I won’t.” I tried to remain calm even though underneath I felt like a lion in a cage. “Hey, toss me your phone. I need to call myself.”

  Worst thing was, none of this shit made sense. We weren’t in love with each other, and apart from the last twenty-four hours we hadn’t made any kind of commitment to each other—whatever that commitment actually was. So all of this was way out of left field, not that I could reason with myself in my current state.

  “Hello?” Kenzie answered confused, guessing she wasn’t talking on her own cell.

  “Hey, Kenz, yeah I fucked up and took your phone by mistake. You have mine.” Don’t mention the asshole. Don’t mention the asshole. Don’t mention the asshole.

  “Is this just an excuse to see me again? Surely you could be more original.” She gave a throaty laugh. And if I hadn’t been so keyed about the asshole I was trying not to mention, I would have fucking loved it.

  “Sadly, I can’t. Look, I need to go out for a bit so I’ll leave yours here. Max will be around to do the swap.” I gave her my clipped response knowing the longer I spoke the more chance I’d say something I probably shouldn’t. Or maybe something I should. Who is this asshole, at the top of the list.

  “Oh. Okay. Yeah I can do that.” She sounded surprised, like she’d expected me to say something else. Sorry, all out of happy-happy-joy-joy today.

  “Awesome. Thanks. See ya.”

  “Bye.” I’d barely let her get the word out before I hung up.

  “What was that?” Max glared accusingly, a whole lot of explain-yourself radiating off the guy.

  “I need to find out who this fucker is.” And maybe kill him. Okay, so I wasn’t a murderer, but I’d find a way to destroy him.

  “Joey.” Max warned not realizing the train had already left the station and I was well and truly on it. No stopping me now. Not until I knew either way.

  “Just be a friend and do the swap.” Too late. Way too late to stop this now. “Don’t fucking sell me out. I’ve got a number and a name. I’m going to FBI this motherfucker into next week.”

  Whoever he was better watch his fucking back because this wasn’t playtime. And like hell I’d sit around while he tried to take Kenzie.

  Joey had been weird.

  Actually, that was an oxymoron because he’d always been weird. But he was weirder than usual.

  I’d stopped off at his house and did the phone exchange, but he hadn’t waited around.

  See, weird—because things were actually in a really good place between us.

  Max had been nice enough, so I chalked it all up to my instincts being on the fritz. It would stand to reason seeing as the rest of my body was completely out of control.

  I would literally cry if I had to pee again in the next hour.

  Shit was getting ridiculous.

  The conversation with Joey about us not seeing other people had been an eye opener, and part of me hoped it might be more than it was. The idea of maybe something happening between us not as crazy as I once thought. But then I remembered.

  It was Joey.

  Not happening.

  So I packed all those hopes and dreams and put them on my metaphorical bookcase where they could sit for all eternity. That was the best place for them.

  The days that followed were business as usual. I spoke to Joey every day, sometimes more than once and whatever weirdness he had going on seemed to have disappeared.

  Like magic, gone. Which was awesome because he was back to being his funny self. The flirting was still there too, no matter how many times I told him we weren’t sleeping together.

  Still, it didn’t bother me as much as I pretended. Not that I would admit it, but it was sort of nice.

  “Hey, Kenz, I was working on those notes you emailed. I can’t wait to show you what I’ve done with our song.” Dom greeted me at the door with a big hug.

  Big being the operative word because the dude was ginormous. His head whipped around, slightly disappointed when he saw I was solo.

  “Awesome, Sara’s not well so she is sitting this one out.”

  More like she begged me not to go without her, insisting we wait until she was no longer under the influence of NyQuil. I disagreed, wanting to get the song finished ASAP to give it the best chance of getting on the album.

  And after a pinky-swear vow to tell her every single thing that happened while I was with Dom in military-precise minutes, she agreed I should go alone. Or at least, she didn’t sulk too badly when I did.

  “Is she okay? Nothing serious I hope.”

  Dom’s concern for Sara overtook his interest in me as he motioned me to come in. His living room already set up with guitars and notebooks.

  “Sounds like it’s just the sniffles, but she’s convinced she’s dying.” I dumped my purse and pulled out my notes. “You could always bring her some soup or something, if you want. Or an erection. Either would improve her mood.”

  Sara’s illness not so life-threatening that she wouldn’t appreciate a bedside visit by her crush.

  And by bedside, I mean inside of her.

  These two really needed to have sex.

  Someone should be doing it considering my vagina was developing tumbleweeds. But that was another story.

  “You two kill me.” Dom laughed, always getting thrown off by Sara and my personal brand of enthusiasm. “Thanks for the tip. I might stop by her place later.”

  “Don’t forget the erection; I was lying about the soup.”

  Dom laughed, his face flushing red before urging me to take a seat. “You want to get to work on the song now or you want to try and embarrass me some more?”

  “We should work,” I conceded; it was only fun for so long. Besides, the whole point of me coming without Sara was to get this finished. And today felt like it might be the day.

  After discussing some ideas Dom had thought of and me throwing in some of my own we picked up our guitars and started to work through the entire song. It was easier to hear exactly what worked in the notes rather than on paper and
what we had so far sounded great. Possibly even mainstream enough for radio play, without sounding like Justin Bieber.

  “That’s great. Sounds awesome.” Dom’s smile hinted he felt it too, the song a perfect mix of rock and emotion. “You’ve got such a good ear.”

  “Thanks, not so bad yourself.” I smiled back, glad it was working out so well.

  I had never really written with anyone other than my band but who knew where it could lead? Maybe I could get a gig co-writing songs for other people. It would be an awesome way to supplement my income and be something I could manage with the baby. Look at me being all responsible.

  “Hey, you want to take-five?” Dom put down his guitar as he rose to his feet. “Something to drink?”

  “Sure. I just need to empty before I fill up again.” I smiled, placing my guitar on the stand. “Sorry that’s probably too much information.”

  “Nah, you’re good.”

  I excused myself, hopefully making my pit stop as quick as possible. I spent enough time as it was in bathrooms answering the call of nature; I wasn’t interested in prolonging the experience.

  The knock at the door came right when I’d taken a seat on the toilet, Dom’s heavy footsteps happening soon after.

  “Oh hey, dude, can I help you with something?” Dom’s voice echoed down the hall. His walls were paper-thin, so it sounded like he was in the bathroom with me. Having sex in this place would be tricky, no wonder he didn’t have a roommate. PS. I needed to stop thinking about sex.

  “Yeah, I’m looking for Kenzie, is she here?” I heard Joey’s voice and I froze in place. Huh? How did he even find me here? It’s not like I’d mentioned it. Or had I? Me discounting baby brain so early in the game wasn’t smart.

  “Yeah she’s here but we’re kind of in the middle of something,” Dom responded, probably not sure if I wanted a visitor or not. We hadn’t really spoken about Joey since my baby confession; he was probably being cautious.

  “Okay so let me rephrase it. Get Kenzie.” Joey sounded pissed. Like seriously mad.

  “Dude, you might want to watch your fucking tone. No way am I letting you talk to her like that.”