Leaving, he rolled his eyes and wished me good luck and when I glanced over my shoulder he was staring at Drew who was spraying whipped cream down the front of Des’s jeans. I wondered who the fuck thought whipped cream was an essential for the fridge on a band bus.
Comedy sketch—a bad juvenile one—that was what I appeared to be looking at. Landing heavily on the dark tan leather couch, I watched the three of them act like they’d never seen a fucking bus or a can of whipped cream before.
Drew was now up against a door with Des and Andy decorating his face with a whipped cream beard, Andy’s hair was caked in the stuff, and Des looked like he’d pissed himself where the whipped cream had dissolved inside his jeans.
Actually, the more I looked it, the funnier it was getting, but I wasn’t laughing because I knew if I cracked a smile all three of them would be on me like a fly on shit with that can.
Most of the day was the same after that, fighting over cubbies and who was showering first; it always took them a day to iron out the pecking order, like a pack of dogs vying for the alpha position. I could have saved them the trouble of all that shit, because it always turned out to be me. I’d sit waiting for them to exhaust themselves, wear each other down, and I’d swoop in and flex my muscles. Worked every damn time. They were either slow on the uptake or had no observation skills because the outcome had always been the same over the past five years.
After a day of school boy pranks and eating out of cardboard boxes followed by one night in a strip club, they were ready to toe the line, at least during rehearsals and gigs and all the stuff that went with their music. Professional musicians, everyone of them despite their fucked-up juvenile behaviors. Drew wasn’t as bad as the other two. Andy was a bit of a contradiction, like Lily, quiet on the outside, but give him the right people, and he flew in the wind.
Whatever they were, I loved each one of them. They were my family. The family I chose to spend my life with. All of us in it for the long haul. Fight, argue, huff, laugh—we’d done it all together. Each of us comfortable enough to say exactly what we thought without fear of rejection. So when it came down to it, we had each other’s backs completely.
Being in some of the venues we played at was surreal. Much larger places than we were used to, some holding several thousand people. We played a couple of festivals as well. Second billing was a big deal for us, especially when the headliners’ albums and shit were sitting in our collections at home or on our smartphones or playlists.
Summing up the bad points, well the creepy executives who looked a real motley crew, so different looking I sometimes wondered how the hell they ended up in the music business. They could be on television on a guess their occupation type game show. The TV stations would never have to give prizes out; seriously it would save them a fortune.
Of course then there was my all- time favorite bad point. Groupies. Women old enough to be my mother, wearing clothing that just made them appear sad instead of sexy; skirts up to their asses and tank tops that I’d expect to see on a six-year-old, kitten heels, and wrinkled knees. WTF. And all of them plastered in thick brown foundation to hide what they really looked like, when half the time I was thinking they would do better hanging out at the circus recruitment center. They might get more attention there.
Wary of the younger ones who managed to get backstage, I’d wonder where their parents were and how did they not know their kids were out at this time of night? Worse still, how did they not know they were hanging around bands and offering themselves up as spit roast for the enjoyment of horny guys who get paid to make music, get drunk, and, in some cases, fuck anything with a pulse.
Obviously, the best part of touring was meeting really cool people, people who are into music and often know much more about it than the guys they’ve come to watch. Great stimulating conversation and debate about music comes from some of those people, and it was like food to me. Discussing idols and hearing other peoples’ experiences of great gigs they’ve been to and, of course, the music itself.
Playing music and being paid to do it is the best buzz in the world. I’d happily tour and play for free if I could afford it. What a privilege to share a common love with people and bring pleasure to a mass crowd who are all there to hear you do your show and tell session. I’d never see myself as a ‘rock star’ I didn’t fit into that picture. Sure, everyone thinks I look like that, I sound like it, but it was who I was inside that I wanted to be measured by. Not aesthetics.
Each day that passed took Lily’s face further from my mind. We’d traveled about three thousand miles in the four weeks away. Drew knew me too well, angry at times that I wasn’t joining in, times when Lily was invading my thoughts. I was worrying about how she might never be anything to me now but a fabulous memory. How she might have moved on again. How she might be with Will.
On the last Sunday of the tour we were sitting around discussing how things had turned out for us; the atmosphere of the crowds, the buzz of stepping out on stage every night to a different audience in a different city, memories we could take from each gig, and the mention of it giving us flashbacks to fabulous or funny incidents. Everyone agreed we smashed it. The tour was a success. Drew became really serious and turned to look at me. “Alfie I’m so sorry dude, but that girl you told me about, Lily is it? She’s fucked with your head.”
Twisting my mouth as my eyes scanned my bandmates’ faces there was none of the usual banter or sarcasm. Andy stood up and pushed his hands in his pockets. “You’ve not been yourself Alfie. All the way through this tour, it’s like you’ve been here when we’re on stage but the rest of the time…” his voice trailed away and Des stood up. “You need to go and get laid Alfie, seriously. You’re gonna have to fuck her out of your system, because you’re like a shell, dude.”
Des with his usual wisdom stick your dick in a woman—the answer to everything that was wrong with the world. World leaders might want to make Des a UN ambassador with that kind of advice.
“Damn, guys. I’m acutely aware that I’m not getting with her now. I just need some time to come to terms with that. Feel like I’m doing better at it, not thinking about her so much, you know what I mean?” Staring at their faces, I could see not one of them had any clue what I was talking about. They’d obviously never felt what I had with Lily.
Pep talk aside they were really supportive and took me to clubs, making me sociable whether I felt like it or not. It really helped me, and after another week I was feeling much stronger. Drew punched my bicep almost giving me a dead arm one morning and pointed out that I was singing again. I was.
Not ever realizing I’d actually stopped in the first place, I was getting some of my mojo back. I could think about Lily rationally now. Painful as it was, I was right to step away. The fact I’d been gone for four weeks would have helped to make her so fucking mad, I figured I’d have all the help I needed in resisting her.
Chapter 14 – Home
Arriving home in the early morning felt odd. The house seemed huge after being on the bus for so long, and the first thing I did was run a huge bath. Not seeing one for five weeks had been difficult. It was one of my guilty pleasures, lounging in the bathtub.
Maybe I should have been a woman. A smile spread on my lips with that thought. Wonder what the guys would make of that one. I mean me listening to Dierks Bentley and soaking in the tub? Best those two nuggets never get out if I get famous. They’re definitely not in keeping with a rock star’s image.
There was nothing to eat in the house, and I had to check in on Kara and Poppy after college, but I had a workshop I was scheduled to run this morning. So I finished dressing, grabbed my guitar and shit, and headed over to campus.
First day back on campus after five weeks, and I’d had a great morning session. It was busy and the workshop I ran was really well-attended. Keen students, eager to learn, and most contributed well to the session. When we were done I was ravenous and headed over to the canteen for a quick bite before going to se
e Kara and Poppy.
I was coping okay post-Lily and had praised myself on feeling much stronger about resisting her. Five weeks away, and I was starting to get a mundane feeling, settling back into my routine.
In canteen a couple of the girls I’d been mentoring that morning were acting out a song we’d just performed. It involved her blowing a kiss at the guy in the song, the words called for the guy to reciprocate, so I acted it out and in the song the female catches the kiss. Just as we acted it out, I saw her. Lily.
Of all the times to do something spontaneous it had to be in front of the one person who I didn’t want to get the wrong idea about me. It had been callous enough of me to disappear without warning, but quite another to show up again after all this time and appear to flirt with a girl in front of her.
As soon as I laid eyes on her my reaction to her was instantaneous. My heart beat soared pumping blood to my dick making me so hard for her. The connection between my eyes and my brain sent shockwaves across my synapses, detonating desire, lust, want, and the urge to reach out and crush her to me in a hug.
I’d missed her like a lawn would miss the rain, and I’d been fooling myself when I thought I could resist her when I saw her again. I blew out a strangled breath and tried to get some regulation going with my rapid, shallow breathing. My body was in shock with the adrenaline rush I was having, and my body went into overdrive. My heart banged against my chest wall, my palms sweaty, my stomach was lurching, and it was taking everything in me to appear cool.
The douche was smiling at me, so I walked over trying to seem as casual as I could. Lily wasn’t looking at me. She was glancing up at Will’s face. She was watching him, and I saw the point when she realized someone was coming alongside her because her body language shifted, and she gripped one of her arms in a defensive, protective stance. When I reached them my forearm brushed against her upper arm, and the buzz detonated an explosion of goose-bumps across both of our bodies.
Lily breath hitched and sent my mind into chaos. She wasn’t coping too well with my appearance, and even after five weeks apart I was still attuned to her body. The chemistry between us was sizzling hot and seemed even stronger than I remembered. She closed her eyes and swallowed, so I guessed she was trying to cope with her feelings as much as I was.
I fist bumped the douche, ignoring her because although I wanted to see her up close, I had no reason to strike up a conversation with her. We chatted a bit about the tour I was on. It was my way of explaining to her why I hadn’t been in touch.
After all the heart to hearts I’d had with Drew, I had resolved to leave her alone and put her off of me by not calling her. I’d been pretty determined to keep my word on that, but seeing her sweet face again, I felt pretty shitty for leaving without telling her.
Every decision I had made, every action I took regarding her was calculated, and my aim was to stop either of us from getting hurt. Flipping it from her perspective, all I was doing was the opposite.
Douche told me that he and Lily were playing gigs together, and that they were playing that night. I behaved as if I wasn’t really interested and concluded the conversation. When I walked away I heard her sigh heavily, and a dark depressed feeling washed over me. She had been starting to affect me, which was why I left but I had what I needed—the name of the bar—and nothing was going to stop me from going to watch her. I promised myself it was just to see her in action. Nothing else.
Arriving late, I snuck into the place and found a table near the back. I didn’t want her to see me there. I just wanted to listen to what she was doing and have a few beers. It was weird, as soon as she came on stage it was like she was the only person in the room. The spotlight was on her, and she completely hypnotized me.
Everything about her was just perfect. She sang a song and although she looked a little shy and uncomfortable about it, I nearly died when she did. Her voice was absolutely captivating. My dick was so hard I kept adjusting my sitting position. The seam of my jeans was causing so much pressure I was considering taking the fuckers off.
Impulse took over. I had to see her again. I needed to feel her next to me, hear her sweet sighs and the soft whimpering sounds she made when I was inside her. Just that thought made my body hum in anticipation of her. She was still on stage, but I fired a text off to her. I was done denying myself.
SEXPERT: Missed you baby. Oh! That dress, those legs! I need to stroke them desperately.
I was beginning to think we were done when she didn’t text back twenty minutes after she’d finished. I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, then threw it down my throat and made ready to leave. As I stood my phone chirped her reply.
Pink Lady: Swat! Need you to keep your hands to yourself I’m working.
SEXPERT: Can’t you’re too irresistible and it’s been weeks.
Pink Lady: So… you should be over your withdrawal by now.
SEXPERT: Meet me at mine?
Pink Lady: Nope, I have company tonight.
SEXPERT: Bring your company she can have a spare room. Need to see you.
Pink Lady: Sorry, HE wouldn’t go for that.
SEXPERT: HE???
Fuck, she’s with someone else? Anxiety mingled with anger in my belly and rose up to my throat.
Pink Lady: Yeah, it’s a boy, and we’re almost ready to leave for my place.
A boy? WTF does that mean? Rising from my chair I made my way to the parking lot, needing to see who she was leaving with. I was agitated beyond reason, and my immediate thoughts were the douche had made his move on her. The text I sent her back was a risk, but I wanted to hurt her as much as I was hurting right at that moment. I had no right to do that, to hurt her; she owed me nothing. I was as jealous as hell that she could move on while I was stuck.
SEXPERT: PITY: I guess I’ll just have to entertain myself some other way.
As I was settling into the car to watch for her, she replied.
Pink Lady: You’ve managed this long without me, I’m sure you’re resourceful.
Slumping back in my seat, I felt desolate. Maybe she was tougher than I read her to be. Watching and waiting for her to leave, I heard the loud voice of the little hippy-looking chick with her. She was draped all over douche, and that gave me some confidence that it wasn’t him.
Studying the body language of the group was easy. The two girls were with guys, and the only two not intimate was Lily and some cowboy dude. He and the hippy chick seemed to be very familiar with each other, and Lily seemed really relaxed around them. The cowboy was only a friend.
They drove past me, Lily in a new little gold-colored Jeep Wrangler. The choice of car suited her perfectly. She was with the cowboy dude, and he had his arm out of the window, tapping the side of the door to the music playing in her car.
Whoever he was, she was very familiar with him, looking relaxed and giggling while he was making an ass of himself singing. My body sagged as I relaxed, feeling that the guy wasn’t a threat. Driving home, my mind played back over her performance. She was amazing and developing all the time. I was in awe at how oblivious she was to her talent.
Showering, I slipped between my sheets, and lay there, playing the images of how she had looked in my mind. I don’t remember falling asleep, but it was way into the early hours of the morning.
Lily was the first thing on my mind when I woke but it was only eight o’clock, so I couldn’t text her. I decided to get up and make some headway on a song I’d been working on. By lunchtime I had a bunch of words that resembled poetry about a girl who had stolen my heart, and it had little to do with the song’s original content.
SEXPERT: Still missing you. Your company gone yet?
Pink Lady: No he’s very much still here.
SEXPERT: Very much? … Come see me.
Pink Lady: Sorry I can’t. I need to spend time with him here.
SEXPERT: When does he leave?
Pink Lady: Sunday.
SEXPERT: Sunday?? Hope the dude keeps his dick in his pants
and his hands to himself.
Pink Lady: Umm…that’s not your business
SEXPERT: You fucked him?
Pink Lady: Hmm…I’m supposed to disclose my life outside of our arrangement? What happened to no-strings?
SEXPERT: Ominous answer
I had a feeling she fucked him, and I felt sick.
Pink Lady: Fair point I’m making, I think
SEXPERT: He must be good if you’re turning me down, ’cuz I know that I am.
I knew I was pushing her, but I needed to know. The thought of her with him was making me feel nauseated.
Pink Lady: I’ve neither confirmed nor denied anything, nor do I intend on doing so.
My heart sunk to my belly like a stone. She had sex with that guy. I knew her enough to know her comeback would have been a straight denial if she hadn’t.
SEXPERT: Huh. So…you did fuck him, otherwise that would have been a straight no.
Pink Lady: No comment.
Panic gripped me. I’d lost her.
SEXPERT: So…are we doing this?
Pink LADY: The arrangement?
SEXPERT: Is our arrangement threatened?
I rose out of my chair and paced the room waiting yet dreading her reply to my text, which in my heart I already knew was coming.
Pink Lady: About our arrangement. Been thinking about that… thank you for picking me as your favorite… you were also my favorite fuck buddy. Great sex… excellent reference supplied if needed… contract terminated: hugs: kiss face.
Wrong! You felt the same way as I did. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You still wanted me; I felt it just standing next to you. This wasn’t over Lily.
SEXPERT: Seriously… we’re done?
Pink Lady: no regrets… thank you for the time we had together
She was fucking kidding, right? The panic in my heart was causing palpitations, every beat seemed out of rhythm, and it made me feel nauseated.
Love with Every Beat Page 14