by T Gephart
“He can stay; I get the feeling he’s involved.” Pops eyed us cautiously.
“You know we’re playing with Troy’s band.” A good start, but how was I going to break it to him that I would be gone for months?
“They asked you to do the rest of the tour.” He answered with complete lack of surprise.
“Ummm. Yeah.” The surprise that had been lacking in my father had taken up residence in me.
“So are you worried your old man can’t handle himself, or are you worried I would tell you not to live your dreams?” He shot me his careful-before-answering face.
“Pops, I know you need me here and—”
“Angie, you are the most amazing kid I could have ever asked for. Your mother and I were blessed beyond measure and if she was here, God rest her soul, she would be so proud of you. But if you don’t do this, I’m going to be so mad at you.” He looked like he meant it too.
“Mad at me?”
“Yep, us Morellis make our dreams happen, we don’t sit around settling. My dream was to have my own shop and marry your mom. You’ve wanted to be on the stage since you were seven years old, it’s about time you start living up to the responsibility that comes with your family name.”
“Dad.”
“Don’t dad me either. You call Troy and tell him you’re going.”
“I love you.” My eyes blinked, willing myself not to cry as I wrapped my arms around him.
“I know. I love you, too.” His hand gently stroked my hair as he returned my hug.
“I love everyone.” Rusty threw his arms around both of us crushing us in a group hug.
Rusty and my dad were more than just my family; they were my world. And knowing I had those two in my corner gave me the confidence to know I could do anything.
“Take care of each other, okay?” Pops warned as he shook off Rusty’s affectionate embrace.
“Don’t worry, Joe, I promise to look after Angie, and pull her into line if she goes all Kayne West.”
“I’m more worried about you, Rusty.” He tapped him upside the back of the head again. “Now you think we can get some work done around here before the two of you become big shots?”
“Too late for that. We’re already big shots, the world is just now starting to catch up.” Rusty eased back onto the heels of his feet.
“Well big shot how about you get out of here and go bother your own boss. Angie has work to do.” Pops’ voice trailed as he disappeared back into his workspace, no longer interested in Rusty’s response.
“I would, but I don’t work there anymore.” The sheepish grin hinted he had already given his notice or had been handed his walking papers. It was a coin toss as to which.
“You resigned already?” My mouth flew open in mock horror. “What if I had said no?”
“You wouldn’t have said no to me, you love me too much. Besides, I slept with Archie’s daughter last week. I was on borrowed time.” He laughed.
“Get out of here.” I pointed to the door.
“See you at the show tonight.” Rusty’s feet made for the door, his hand pausing on the handle before pulling it open. “You tell James and Troy, and I’ll tell the guys. And if Archie comes looking for me, tell him I’ve moved to Mexico.”
“See ya.” I waved as I watched him walk away and reached for my phone.
I could do this.
Make the call, tell Troy the good news and not freak out. Ha! Who was I kidding? The call would be the easy part; I had a whole six months to rein in my freak out. This was not going to be easy.
My buzzing phone broke through the tunes on my play list as my feet pounded against the belt of the treadmill. I’d lost my shirt at the three-mile mark, sweat pouring off me as I sucked in air and I cut the power. This better be good, I had a few more miles before I’d burn off the mood I’d been carrying this morning.
“Yeah.” I huffed into the phone, grabbing a towel that was hanging off the handle.
“Dude, are you fucking?”
I shouldn’t be surprised; Dan and fucking usually came as a package deal. Still a simple hello would be a nice change of pace.
“I was running jack-ass. If I was fucking, I wouldn’t have bothered answering the phone.” I toweled off my face, reaching for a bottle of H2O.
“Or you would just say you were running so I wouldn’t know.”
Yeah, I was so not in the mood for Dan’s brand of circular logic.
“Dan, it’s too fucking early. What do you need?”
“Well seeing as you are asking, I really need a blowjob but Ash had to work.”
I had to ask, didn’t I? I tossed the sweat-filled towel over my shoulder.
“Well you won’t be finding one here so you’re SOL. Anything else you want to share before I hit the shower?”
“Yeah, I was actually calling for a reason. Band meeting in an hour at Troy’s.”
“Band meeting? Everything okay?”
“Yep, the problem of our opening act has been solved. Troy is still on the phone with Angie. Looks like her band is coming out on the road with us. You going to be able handle the daily Resident Evil she’s going to throw your way?”
“I’ll be fine.” Thank fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut wondering if this was the calm before the storm. “That’s good news. Really, I’m glad they agreed.”
“You’re glad?” Dan all but yelled into the phone. “Well that’s no fucking fun. This tour is going to be difficult enough without Ash on it, I was counting on the two of you going at it for my entertainment.”
“We’re not going to be your source of entertainment, asshole.” At least that’s not what I had planned.
“She still hates you though, right?” Dan asked, the amusement evident in his voice.
“Not that I’ve checked recently but I’m assuming she does.” I let out a sigh. It was less of an assumption and more a definite, but who is keeping score?
“Good, at least she hasn’t let me down.”
“Dan, all jokes aside. This isn’t a game. You’re not going to fuck with Angie, you hear me?”
“Wow, you almost sounded like you liked her.” Dan laughed. “Relax, asswipe, Troy’s already given me the spiel. I’m going to be a regular boy scout.”
“Your words aren’t filling me with confidence.”
“I’ll handle my end.” Dan took a breath before continuing. “Hers, I’ve got no control over.”
“Okay, see you in sixty,” I said, hoping to end the conversation. Talking about Angie with Dan, yeah … really didn’t want to go there.
“See ya. Oh, Jase?”
“Yeah?”
“You were really fucking, weren’t you?” The douchebag laughed.
“Goodbye, asshole.”
Well what do you know? Our boy Rusty came through after all. Who the fuck knew what he had to say to convince her. Did it matter? Not one bit.
So the part of me that liked slow and systematic torture limbered up. Because that’s what I had in front of me. And fuck me if the thought didn’t make me smile, because ladies with a permanent case of PMS were obviously my thing.
After a quick shower and change, I jumped into my car and headed to Troy’s penthouse, the destination for our meeting.
“Hey, there you are.” James pulled open the door of Troy’s pad, allowing me to walk inside.
“Are you the butler?” I laughed as I strolled into the living room, Alex and Dan already situated on the couch.
“Megs has bad morning sickness, Troy’s in the other room with her which is why we’re doing this here. He wanted to be close by in case she needed something.” James helped me play catch up.
“Yeah, good call.”
We were on the same page, and Troy being all protective and shit was not an issue for any of us.
“I’ll let him know everyone is here.” Dan’s feet hit the floor as he made for the back of the apartment.
“Hey.” Troy emerged looking a little worse for wear, Dan not far behind him.
“Hey dude, Megs okay?” My chin tipped in his direction as he walked into the living room and sunk his ass into the two-seater.
“Yeah, other than being pissed at me for hovering. Apparently me wanting to be with her while she pukes isn’t romantic.” His tone clueing us in that despite Megs’s protests, nothing much would be changing.
“In my opinion, that’s as romantic as it’s going to get.” Dan rejoined the group, his ass sinking into the leather couch.
“I can hear you talking about me, Troy Harris.” Megs slowly ambled into the room, her face pale but wearing a big ass grin.
“Good, ’cause I wasn’t trying to hide it. You want anything before we start?” Troy automatically rose to his feet, his usual response when his girl walked in the room.
“For you to stop hovering.” Megs waved him off, the grin hinting she knew she was fighting a losing battle.
“Maybe ask for something you actually have a chance of getting.” Troy’s tucked her in tight against his body before kissing her neck.
Megs rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m not going to break.”
So with everyone roughly assembled, and rather than jerk off anymore we decided to get this show on the road. The reason for our meeting wasn’t a mystery. Neither was the reason my pulse was still racing. And it didn’t have anything to do with the time I’d clocked on the treadmill earlier either.
“Okay, so Black Addiction is locked in. Full commitment, all dates. They will sign their revised contract today. Everyone cool with that? Dan? Jason?” James asked, the singling out of the two of us, no coincidence.
“They’re a good fit. They owned it last night, and the crowd seemed to love them,” Troy added, clearly on Team Angie.
“Yeah everyone was shitting out rainbows.” Dan leaned back into his chair. “I’ve got no problem with it.”
All eyes turned to me.
“No problem here.”
Well, none that was in this room at least.
“Good, ’cause if there was going to be a problem, I’d rather hear about it now.” James gave a predictable warning. The raised eyebrow clueing me in that whatever I was selling, he wasn’t buying.
“Shit went down between the two of us in the past. It’s over; we’re fine. There will be no drama.” My mouth spouted the usual bullshit. Not sure if I believed it, not that it mattered at this point.
“Awesome.” James didn’t smile.
He didn’t believe me either.
****
So I’d learned a few things today.
One, we were touring with Angie’s band, and two, I had suddenly developed an unexplained need to watch the support act perform.
Good work, Jase, I was now stalking her.
I was edgy, too.
My fist flexed open and shut a couple of times, my hands needing something to do while I sat in the dark. My vibe was completely off.
There had been two girls that I’d ever really cared about. One, I hoped for both our sake’s, I’d never see again, and other was on the stage in front of me.
Both times I’d been stupid.
Both times I’d fucked up.
Both times I’d said I’d never go back.
But only one of those times I’d actually wanted to.
So, here I was feeding my musical appreciation. Absolutely mesmerized by the woman I was watching. Straight up voodoo shit. That had to be the reason why I couldn’t look away.
Of course it had nothing to do with the way she looked. Those deadly curves couldn’t be what had my attention. No, I hadn’t even noticed how perfect her tits were or what a stellar job her ass did of showcasing those tight black shorts. The fact she was the perfect mix of knock-you-on-your-ass stunning and real-girl beautiful could also not be the reason I was sitting on a road case stage side being all Phantom-of-the-Opera.
My dick getting harder the longer I looked at her had nothing to with the fact I hadn’t been laid in a while either. The opportunities hadn’t changed, I could still score any night of the week. But it was my motivation that was suffering the dysfunction, not my cock.
This wasn’t good.
I needed to give myself a reality check and get busy doing something else. A hobby. Possibly one that didn’t involve an intervention order or require night vision goggles.
“They’re pretty good.” Troy parked his ass on the road case beside me. His eyes darted out to the stage, nodding his approval.
“Yep.” The less that came out of my mouth the better. My need to share wasn’t high being that I doubted he would embrace my new creeper status.
“So you sitting out here for a reason?”
He had waited two minutes before asking the inevitable question. My guess, it was his attempt at keeping it polite. Who says we weren’t gentlemen?
“Just enjoying the show.” I tipped my chin toward the stage.
Enjoying it wasn’t exactly accurate. None of it was actually enjoyable, not unless you loved feeling like your nuts were in a vice. Which I must, considering Troy was giving me a hard stare and raised eyebrow combo that translated into no, really. What the fuck are you doing here? and I still hadn’t moved.
“Jase—”
“I’m solid, dude.” I cut him off knowing what was coming next.
It had been a long time since anyone had to worry about me. Since I’d come out the other end from shithead to dependable Jase. Reliable Jase. It was me who usually did the watching out for. Not the other way around. Troy’s concern made me uncomfortable, and not the wearing a turtleneck kind.
“No man is an island. Just remember that.”
“Yeah, and you need to stop reading fortune cookies.”
Continuing the conversation took a back seat as my head whipped back around to the stage as vaguely familiar chords ripped through the speakers. “Are they playing …Taylor Swift?”
The dirtied up intro leading into the first verse snared my full attention. What the hell were we even talking about?
“Er … like if TSwift and Stone Temple Pilots had a baby, it would sound like that.” Troy was equally intrigued, his face wearing the same what-the-fuck as I was.
“Holy shit, it’s “Blank Space” rocker-fied.”
Angie belted out the unmistakable words of the chorus, putting any doubt to bed. It might have been someone else’s tune, but she was putting her sexy-ass stamp on it. And damn if my dick wasn’t suddenly becoming more interested. The heart-to-heart with Troy shelved for another day. Hopefully, never.
“It sounds bad ass if you ask me.” Thankfully Troy had no idea where my mind was at, i.e. not on the fucking brilliance of the rendition.
“Totally bad ass.”
Nice one, asshole. You sound like an inept moron. FYI, my hard-on could cut glass right now.
Angie’s voice curled around each of the words, spitting them out with a little more venom than the original version. The heavy distortion on the guitars was also less sweet and more go-fuck-yourself, which was incredibly hot. I wasn’t sure if I should be appalled or impressed that the song had me so turned on.
Who knew why they’d worked a cover into their repertoire, they hadn’t played anything but originals the night before. And as far as unlikely song choices went, it was up there with shit-I-would-bet-won’t-happen. It was fucking strange. Not that I was going to argue with it, because it was catchy as fuck and the crowd was eating it up with a motherfucking spoon.
I watched hypnotized as the last line of the bastardized pop song left her mouth, her lips settling into a satisfied grin as she lifted her hands in the air and signaled the end of their set, her confidence radiating off her like a nuclear detonation.
Yeah, that wasn’t sexy.
Not at all.
The rest of the boys dropped their gear and moved to the center of the stage. Each of them wore the same pleased looks on their faces as they sidled up next to Angie and took a group bow to the deafening sound of applause.
“I’d say we weren’t th
e only ones who liked it.” Troy’s laugh beside me reminding me I wasn’t standing there solo.
It was also a good time to remind myself to pick up my damn jaw from the floor. I was sure my tongue had been spending some chill time down there, too.
It was hot. Not that I was going to mention that. The word and the sentiment a definite danger zone. As was noticing how her sweat-saturated top showed off her specular tits. Awesome, I was now a deviant as well as a stalker. Who says men can’t multi-task.
“Hey!” Angie couldn’t have stopped grinning even if she’d tried as she made her way backstage. “Hi, Troy.” She gave him a hug before she turned to me. “Hi, loser.”
Her attitude had shifted. There was no way I hadn’t noticed that. Well at least now that I peeled my eyes from other parts of her body, I had. It wasn’t just her smile—which was lethal all by itself—it was that she was freaking beaming.
“What’s with the addition to your set list? I didn’t think you did covers.” I couldn’t have given a rat’s ass about her colorful greeting nor was I waiting to see if Troy was going to investigate. My curiosity at need-to-know levels.
“Rusty thought we should shake things up a little.” Angie smirked at the man in question like they shared some private joke before her eyes returned to me and narrowed.
Huh? Was there something in that statement that I was supposed to decipher? I was a lot of things, but telepath wasn’t one of them. Along with mind reader and chick-whisperer. All of which could have been an asset right about now.
“Well, the crowd loved it.” Troy weighed in, not even hiding the fact he’d loved it too. He alternated between slapping them on the back and shaking hands. The rest of the band loving the “awesome show” and “well done” that was being tossed their way. All except Angie who seemed to be more enjoying my reaction.
“Sounds like Rusty is a smart man.” The mouth decided to get into the game.
“Keep talking, Irwin, your praise feeds into my god complex. Feel free to use more descriptive words like motherfucking genius and most brilliant guitarist alive. We’re song writers, so words are our friends.” His shit-eating grin almost as big as his inflated ego. Guitarists, all the fucking same.
“So can we expect more of that?” Rusty’s comments completely ignored as I focused on Angie. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was asking. The song? Her attitude? The fact my cock was so hard I was starting to lose feeling in my legs?