by Kacey Shea
“Where’d you learn to play?” Trent asks as Coy settles into his seat.
“Oh, a little here, a little there. My uncle had a set in his basement and I used to mess around there. Just enough to annoy the shit out of everyone, so he decided to teach me to play.”
“He play for a band?”
“Just a local group. A bunch of old dudes from his church got together to play covers at local bars and stuff. Nothing huge, but he loved it.”
“You can certainly play.” Trent tips his chin with a smile.
“Thank you.” Coy puffs up a little with the compliment and sits taller in his chair.
Austin leans against the wall. “We think you have the right look, too. Not as good looking as me, but it’ll work.”
“I don’t know man, the ladies . . . they love my eyes.” He bats his lashes and I’d smile if we were friends.
“What’s your stance on illegal drug use?” Bedo cuts in, kinda harsh.
“Is this because I’m from Denver?” He winces and then gives a little wink.
Bedo taps his fingers on the counter, his smile grim. “We’re not debating morality here, we just wanna know if you use.”
Coy shrugs. “I’ve been known to light up in my younger days, but I can pass a drug test if that’s what you’re asking.”
Considering our blunder at the Grammy’s has been plastered on every news show and entertainment site for weeks, I find his indifference in bad taste. “Ringing endorsement. This guy.” The moment the words leave my lips, Coy meets my stare.
“I don’t touch the hard stuff.” He runs his palms down the front of his jeans. “Look, I’m gonna be stupid honest with you all. This is the biggest fucking opportunity of my lifetime. I get that. I don’t take it lightly, and I won’t fuck it up. If I do, you have full permission to beat my ass.”
“So, you’re into ass play?” Austin’s lips pull up with a smug smile. Giving each other a hard time is just part of being in the band.
“I don’t turn down a little tongue or finger action. Especially if the chick is hot.” Coy doesn’t miss a beat and holds up his hand for Austin.
“I fucking love this guy.” Austin meets his high five laughing heartily, and settles back to lean against the wall.
I’m not impressed, but I don’t say that. There’s something about Coy, and I can’t pinpoint it. The words coming from his lips are the right ones, but they’re almost too practiced, or hold an air of pretentious self-entitlement that turns me off. A glance at both Austin and Trent tells me I’m the only one who feels this way.
“Let’s rock out for an hour before we make it official,” I suggest.
“What?” Trent eyes me and works his jaw back and forth. “Sean, he can obviously play.”
“Yeah, well, I wanna play with him. Besides, being in a band isn’t only about talent. It’s about chemistry. If the drummer and bass player don’t find a groove, the entire song falls flat.” My stare falls back on Coy. I have to give him credit because he doesn’t back down or glance away.
“Come on, don’t be such a shit.” Austin groans. He’s lazy as fuck and doesn’t want to drag this out. Too bad.
“No, he’s not wrong.” Coy’s gaze meets mine and dances with the same confrontation my eyes hold. We both smile, light and relaxed, like this isn’t a big deal, but he can tell I’m challenging him. I’m not usually one who needs to be the alpha. I don’t give a fuck who’s the center of attention, but this guy rubs me the wrong way and I have this unexplainable need to one up him. To make him work for this.
“We don’t have all day.” Bedo taps his fingers on his knee and the gold rings catch the light with the motion. “One song. Make it good.”
I strut into the recording room with the rest of the guys behind me.
“Only My Midnight,” Trent says, and before anyone argues, Coy counts us off with his sticks. Midnight is one of our older tunes, one Derek wrote for us back when we toured in a rented minivan, but it’s always been a fave. My fingers slap across the strings in an easy rhythm and I’ve gotta admit, as much as Coy’s personality irritated me a few moments ago, this guy can play. It’s as if we’ve been practicing for months, that’s how cohesive the sound is, and I know without a doubt he’s our new drummer.
We don’t even finish the last chorus before the studio door swings open and Bedo struts in with a smile that stretches his entire face. “Yes. Fucking yes!”
Trent and Austin beam along with Bedo and I manage a smile.
“Coy Wright, I think I speak for everyone when I say . . .You’re hired! Temporary basis, of course. We’ll make sure things jive through the summer tour, and after that, if all parties agree, we’ll make it official.”
His eyes widen and jaw falls open. He quickly recovers, though, his mouth snapping shut. He stands from behind the drums and struts over to shake Bedo’s hand. “That’s great. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“The label rents a house not too far from here; I’m sure you’ll find the accommodations comfortable. Guys, I’d like him to move in ASAP. Give you all a chance to build a relationship.” He nods at Coy, “Plus, we have a practice studio set up there.”
“We braid each other’s hair sometimes,” Austin deadpans, and this time I actually do smile.
Bedo rolls his eyes and turns his attention back on Coy. “If you’ll follow me over to the business side of things, we’ll work up the specifics of your contract.”
“That’s great. Fantastic. Dude, I’m stoked!” The words fumble from Coy’s mouth along with his joy. Maybe he’s an asshole, maybe not, but at least he’s clean, wants to be here, and can play. It’s not everything but it’s a start. “But, uh . . .One thing first?”
Bedo’s lips mash together and he taps his shoe on the ground. He lifts one brow. “Shoot.”
“There’s one condition to my acceptance. No, more like a request.” Coy’s shoulders droop a little along with his gaze and his feet scuff the floor.
“What’s that?” Trent’s eyebrows rise and meet my indifferent stare. I’m sure he and I are thinking the same. You’re being offered the gig of a lifetime and you’re already placing stipulations? Great. Just what we need. A diva of a drummer.
Coy clears his throat and meets Bedo’s stare. “My girlfriend, Jess, she’s been with me through thick and thin and we live together. I’d like to have her with me.”
Trent’s calculating stare softens with understanding. Oh, great.
Austin groans. “Not another fucking girlfriend on the bus. No way. Fuck this! We’re gonna need to stock more tampons than condoms at this rate!” He throws his hands in the air. I roll my eyes at his tantrum. He’s the one that needs the Midol with his mood swings.
Coy’s hopeful smile falls and he nods at Austin’s outburst.
“Ignore him.” Trent walks over and slaps Austin on the back. “Dude’s just pissed he can’t ever get a second date.”
“Fuck you.” Austin laughs and pretends to hump and slap the air in front of him. “I hit it and quit it. I’m the smartest motherfucker in this band.”
Trent shoves Austin away and rolls his eyes before tipping his chin at Coy. “Won’t be an issue unless it starts to interfere with the dynamic of the band. My girlfriend toured with us last summer. She’s on her own now but once that finishes up she’ll join us, too.”
“Right, Lexi Marx. That’s awesome, bro. Jess won’t be a problem. She’s a cool chick. And if you guys decide she doesn’t fit, I’ll personally kick her to the curb.” He laughs like it’s funny, or maybe it’s just nerves. I can’t decide whether his broad smile is from the excitement of being offered the drumming position or he’s so eager to please us that he’s happily willing to discard his girlfriend. Whom he supposedly can’t live without. Either way, it’s annoying.
“Cool, man.” Trent steps forward and holds out his hand. “We’ll see you soon. Welcome to Three Ugly Guys.”
“Appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’ve got dece
nt chops.” The only honest compliment I can give. My lackluster excitement for this new guy is due in part to my overpowering concern for Iz. Maybe that’s unfair, but it’s real.
“Thanks, man.” He shakes my hand.
“Get our numbers before you take off. We should celebrate. Tonight,” Austin says.
Bedo’s frown appears with his disapproval. “No. No going out. I mean it, we can’t have any more bad press. Not now.”
“Come on, Bedo! Don’t be a killjoy. We need to initiate our man Coy into the band properly.”
“I’m not fucking around, Austin.”
“I’m not either. One night out. Just dinner. We’ll behave. Be home before midnight. Promise.”
Bedo nods his head, lips still mashed in a tight line when he finally gives in. “Dinner and drinks. No clubs. Home by eleven.”
“Fine.” Austin rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath as he passes me on the way out the door. “He’s gonna hire us a fucking sitter next.”
I’m ready to leave and get back to the house, so I jog and catch up to Austin, leaving Trent to resume the small talk. I’m also curious whether the gorgeous brown eyes that watched me with interest on the way in is still hiding behind her magazine. By the way she was sitting I couldn’t tell whether her body was banging, but those eyes . . . fuck, they were soulful and raw and real. They’re the reason for the extra bounce in my step as I listen to Austin bitch and moan about our most recent Bedo-imposed curfew.
We turn the corner to the reception room and fuck, there she is. This time the magazine lays open in her lap and she bites at the skin on her lower lip, completely engrossed in the literature. I wonder whether she’s really that into sound equipment. Maybe she’s here for an interview and I’ll get to run into her from time to time.
Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Not in a traditional sort of way, but it’s those big brown eyes combined with her tiny frame and hair so flat and smooth it looks like silk. Her outfit, an all-black ensemble, would be plain and boring really, if it weren’t for the flashy jewelry she’s paired with it. The metal and glass catch the light and draws my interest further. Yeah, she’s simply beautiful.
Before I can get her number, Trent comes from the hallway and slings his arms around both me and Austin. “Let’s go home sweet home, fuckers!” He practically shouts.
Little Miss Doe Eyes snaps her chin up to follow the sound.
My chest roars with delight when her stare lands on me first. I wink at her again, just like I did on the way in, and this time I get to stare long enough to watch her cheeks stain with pink. The blush is cute. Innocent. Something I don’t witness much in the women I meet.
My gaze locks with hers, and I find it impossible to look away. I don’t get to ogle long though, because with a shove at my back and a few steps forward, Trent pushes the three of us out the door where we pile into Austin’s Jeep for our ride back to the house.
I don’t know who she is, or whether I’ll ever see her again, but damn if I can’t get her and those big brown eyes out of my head.
42
Jess
The band leaves and I check the clock on the wall for about the thousandth time. I have one hour until I’m officially late for work, and the salon owner, Paz, doesn’t tolerate late. I don’t want to lose my job and have to start all over somewhere else. Not after I was just beginning to fit in. Well, fit in is an exaggeration, but I was feeling comfortable there. Useful. The extra money was good for us, too.
After Sean, Austin, and Trent walk outside, I expect Coy to come through the hallway any minute, but he doesn’t. It’s over an hour before anyone new steps foot in the waiting area and it’s only another hopeful musician here for a meeting. Sinking further into the corner, my imagination races with what could be taking so long. Must be good. It has to be. God, I can only hope. Because otherwise not only am I out of a job, but Coy’s dreams will be crushed.
I can’t even enjoy reading with the anxiousness that grows inside my body with every passing minute. I consider asking the receptionist to borrow the phone so I can call the salon, but what’s the point? I’m most certainly fired.
Coy’s voice reaches the end of the hall before he appears and I take the time to set down the magazines and straighten them so the receptionist won’t have to do it later. A guy in burgundy slacks and a white button down shirt walks at his side, and they talk together with big smiles. Coy shakes his hand, says good-bye, and it’s then I notice the thick folder he’s tucked into his side.
My hopes grow so much I have to stand. Coy turns and his gaze catches mine from across the room. It’s then, right there, that I just know. He did it!
Coy gives a slight nod toward the door and I walk, calm and composed, which is not at all how I feel. I follow him outside to the car and he still doesn’t say a word, unlocking the doors with a turn of his key. With his lips pressed together in a tight line, I wonder whether I’ve read this entire thing wrong.
I open my door and slide into my seat, shutting myself inside before reaching for my safety belt. There’s no way he’d still be playing it cool if—
“I did it! I fucking did it!” Coy hollers as he turns the key and starts the engine. He tosses the folder on the back seat and captures my face between his hands. His eyes are so wide, his smile so bright, almost as if he can’t believe the news he’s telling me.
“You did it!” I squeal and his lips cover mine, coaxing a kiss that’s full of both excitement and raw lust. He holds my jaw between his fingers and punishes my lips until we’re both out of breath. He pulls away and I want more than to celebrate with a kiss. I wish we weren’t in his car and miles from the apartment.
He glances at his mirrors, buckles up, and backs out of the parking space. “Fuck, baby, this is it. This is what I’ve been working for. I can’t believe it!” He glances over at me and takes my hand from my lap to hold it in his.
My smile grows as he doubles back the way we came and I squeeze his hand. “I can. I can believe it. I’m so proud of you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He glances away from the road to meet my stare. His compliment is everything but I glance away first, because I don’t know exactly how to accept it. He would have done this without me. I know it. But God, I’m thankful he wants me by his side regardless.
“Hungry?” he asks, his eyes darting from the road to glance my way.
I nod a yes. I’m starving, actually. I have no clue whether they fed him during his meetings, but between rushing out the door this morning, I haven’t eaten a thing since last night.
“Good.” His lips permanently fix in a smile and he steers the vehicle toward the drive-thru line of our favorite fast food joint. He orders two burgers, fries, and sodas. Large size. Something we rarely splurge for, and after the attendant hands over the bags, I reach inside to snag a French fry. I don’t even care that the crisp golden goodness burns the roof of my mouth. A giggle escapes my lips as I chew it really fast, my saliva cooling the inside of my mouth.
Coy peels out of the parking lot toward the freeway entrance. “God damn, Jess! This city! This fucking city!” That’s all he says but I know exactly what he means. There’s something magical about a place where dreams come true. Sure, there’s even more that are crushed, but that’s not us today. No, we’re flying high on our fast food meal despite the bumper-to-bumper traffic.
Coy cranks the music in our beat up little Chevy and I can’t help but laugh and try to keep up as he sings along with each song that comes on the radio between bites of food. His smile doesn’t let up once, even with the horrible traffic, and by the time we reach our neighborhood the sun’s beginning to set. We stop at the bank to deposit his check from Three Ugly Guys—his first advance that’s more than we’ve both made combined since making LA our home, and probably enough to live off for an entire year.
He pulls into our complex, driving all the way down to the end to find an open parking spot while I gather the food wrappers and now-empty cups.
Coy cuts the engine and reaches into the back to retrieve the folder he said is full of contracts, schedules, and details to his new career. With my hand on the door, he stops me with his words.
“This changes everything.” His tone holds absolute reverence as he regards the folder in his hands, a smile on his lips when he lifts his chin to meet my gaze.
His confidence should calm my fears, but instead those very words spark a bubble of nervous anticipation for the unknown. I know he’s right. From this moment on, our life, it completely changes.
And I’m a horrible person for wishing it didn’t have to.
We walk up to our apartment, and his feet hold a bounce to their step, while mine drag as if they’re heavier than when we left this morning. Inside, I catch my appearance in the reflection of the mirror and realize I’m still dressed for work. For a job I no longer have. I know I shouldn’t care. It’s not as if I played an important role at the salon, but still sadness and disappointment hit like a slap. Just another failure to a laundry list of things I can’t get right.
“Babe!” Coy calls from the other room.
I force a smile on my face while I remove my jewelry and tuck it carefully inside the top dresser drawer. I walk over and peek my head out to find him sprawled on the couch, his cell in hand and papers from the folder all over the floor.
He glances up. “I’m meeting the guys to celebrate tonight. Need to leave in an hour.”
“Oh.” Not much in the mood to go anywhere, my stomach flutters with nerves again. But that’s selfish of me. This is a big deal for Coy. Time to rally. “What should I wear?”
He chuckles. “It’s more of a band only outing. Group bonding and crap like that. But hey, I could really use your help.”
Maybe I should be sad that he’s going without me, but actually, it’s a relief. Having to pretend to fit in, smile, and be “on” in a group of strangers is exhausting. Besides, I need time to process this change to our lives without Coy’s scrutiny. I’m thankful for a night to myself. “Sure. What do you need?”