by K. Webster
“Fucker,” Donnie laughs as he lunges from his seat and tackles Chaz in his. Manny and I laugh our asses off as those two douchebags wrestle like a couple of fifteen-year-olds. And even though we may have just lost the fourth member of our band, we didn’t lose our brother, which means everything is going to be okay.
(a few weeks later)
“Just relax, June,” Dr. Boaz says while her hand checks the dilation of my cervix. It is easier said than done to relax when a stranger has their hand inside you.
I take a deep breath and look at the posters they’ve affixed to the ceiling. Bobby squeezes my hand from beside me, drawing my attention away from the Peanuts characters motivational posters. His eyes are wide but comforting. He smiles at me and winks, which immediately causes my heart to pound. Will it always be like this for us? One smile and my insides melt? I sure hope so.
“Everything looks great. You’ve dilated to a one, but you could be that way up until delivery. We’ll see you in another week,” she says before she leaves the room for me to dress.
Once I’ve dressed, we walk hand in hand out to the car. Well, Bobby walks and I waddle. Even though the waddle feels extremely unattractive, he makes me feel like I am the most beautiful girl in the world.
“Can we go eat lunch at that Thai restaurant on the strip?” I ask as we get in his convertible Mustang.
“Are you sure you’re up for walking that far? There isn’t really much parking over there. It might be quite a distance,” he says with just enough worry in his voice that makes my heart want to burst. He’s going to make such a great dad.
‘Yeah, babe. I’m craving Thai food from that one place we always go to. Nobody makes it spicy like they do. It is worth the waddle down the strip, I promise.” I smile over at him. And just like always, he does whatever it takes to make me happy and turns the car to head in that direction.
Just like he predicted, we have to park far away, but I’m not worried. I feel great today, and the weather is perfect. Once we get out of the car, with hands intertwined, we head toward the strip for the restaurant.
“Has David found anyone else besides tonight’s audition? You guys have auditioned what, fifty people by now?” I ask as we pass a teenage boy dressed all in black walking his girlfriend on a leash. Vegas never ceases to amaze me with all the bizarre stuff that goes on around here.
He squeezes my hand and pulls me around someone sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, playing banjo in a Spongebob costume. “We’ve got a bassist named Ryan tonight, but after that, David’s going to have to expand his search. Manny is just so fucking good that he’ll be impossible to replace. Oh, shit. Speaking of Manny, he sent me a picture earlier today.” He laughs, pulling his phone from his pocket. He shields it from the sun so I can see the picture.
“Awww, they’re so cute!” I praise as I admire his little family.
Elena is beautiful with long, wavy brown hair, olive skin, and a shy smile. Josef looks like Manny—very serious yet handsome. Little Alexandra is cheesing at the camera, looking sweet enough to eat with her chubby cheeks and pigtails. Manny is grinning proudly with his arm around his wife. My heart melts with happiness that he can now spend all of his time with them.
Bobby puts his phone back in his pocket and then wraps an arm around my waist as we continue our walk. About halfway there, my lower back begins to ache from the walk, but I’m not going to tell him that. He’d have me stay put while he fetched his car and I would miss out on my Thai food. So not happening.
When we get close to the restaurant, I inhale the delicious aromas and my stomach growls in anticipation. Thankfully, they aren’t too busy and we get right in at a table by the window so we can people-watch. Bobby orders our usual, and we turn our gazes out the window. I roll my eyes at two guys advertising a strip club, handing flyers of half-naked women out to every passerby, even children. When Sutton gets bigger, we’ll definitely have to bring the Thai food home so he doesn’t get bombarded with sexy flyers.
“Will that be all?” the server asks as she sets down our food. We nod our heads and she leaves us to our meal. My Thai red chicken curry smells amazing and my stomach grumbles.
Bobby hears it and chuckles. “Hungry, June Bug?” he questions as he takes a bite of his Pad Thai.
“Our baby is hungry. Not me at all,” I tease as I shovel in the very spicy entrée. My lower back still aches from the walk, but at least my hunger pains are going away.
The rest of our meal goes quickly, and before I know it, we’re back on the strip, walking back to the car. A little over halfway back, I stop to rest and double over.
“This walk wasn’t such a good idea. My back is really hurting, Bobby,” I confess, trying to keep the whine out of my voice.
He turns to look at me, and his content relaxed smile is now one of worry. “I’ll run and get the car, June. Stay right here,” he instructs, but I’m already shaking my head no.
“No, I need the exercise and we’ll be there before we know it. Just walk slower,” I pant slightly. I’m exhausted, hurting, and out of breath, but I’m determined to walk back to the car.
He frowns in disapproval but hooks his arm around my waist to guide me through the throng of people. By the time we make it to the car, my lower back is throbbing but I don’t want him to know that I just made it worse by walking the rest of the way.
After he helps me into the car, I close my eyes and grit my teeth together, but when he gets in on his side, I force a smile at him. He narrows his eyes, knowing that I’m faking it, and starts the car.
The entire drive home, I keep my eyes closed in an effort to ignore the back pain. Once we get home, I must find some Tylenol if I have any hope for surviving the day.
Bobby helps me out of the car, and I hobble toward the stairs, eager to go lie down.
“Fuck no, June Bug,” he growls from behind me. Before I can protest his words, he sweeps me off my feet and into his arms.
“Bobby! I must weigh a ton! You can’t carry me up the stairs,” I whimper, completely embarrassed at my weight. He just rolls his eyes and flies up the stairs with me in his arms as if I weigh nothing.
When we make it to our room, he gently sets me to my feet. His large hands find the top of my dress and peel it from my body. I unhook my bra, releasing my heavy breasts while he slides my panties to the floor. After pulling the comforter down, I crawl into the bed between the cool sheets and lie on my side.
“Do you need something, babe?” he asks. His face is once again painted with worry.
“Just some Tylenol and water. And I want to cuddle with you before you leave for the audition.” I smile at him. His features relax before he runs off to fetch what I asked for.
When I roll onto my back, I experience a sharp pain that brings tears to my eyes. I quickly wipe them away and turn back over onto my side.
Minutes later, after I’ve taken the meds and Bobby’s naked body is spooning me from behind, I easily fall into an exhausted sleep.
The pain is dull when I wake, and I breathe more easily, having a reprieve from the sharp pains I was dealing with earlier. Bobby is lying there quietly, his nose buried in my hair, but I know he’s not sleeping.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers as he inhales me. When we cuddle naked like this, it feels so primal, but I love it.
“Better,” I answer and rub my bottom against his cock, which is growing harder by the second. He groans and grinds himself against me.
As his mouth finds my neck, his hand wraps around me and massages my clit. We’ve been together long enough that he knows just the pattern my body likes. I immediately tense all over as currents of pre-orgasmic electricity begin pulsating through me.
“Bobby,” I moan as he continues his sexy swirls on my most sensitive part of my body. He gently sinks his teeth into my neck in a way that stings but doesn’t leave a mark and I’m thrust over the edge of sanity. My body shivers as my climax shoots through every nerve ending in my body. I’ve barely
recovered when I feel him slide his cock into my now dripping-wet pussy from behind.
I whimper at the pressure of him inside me. My back starts to ache again, and I bite my lip as he thrusts in and out. For the first time since we’ve been together, my mind is elsewhere other than our lovemaking. The pain in my back hurts so bad that I feel it stretch around my hip, causing me to wince. Tears spring to my eyes as I try to hold on until he comes. His hand roams my body so reverently and gently that I don’t want to deny him his orgasm because I’m in a little—okay, a lot—of pain. When I hear him groan behind me, I exhale the deep breath I must have been holding in one loud swoosh.
Bobby stills and moves his hand up to cup my breast. “Baby, are you okay?” he asks nervously.
I just nod as tears silently stream from my eyes, rolling down the side of my face and wetting the pillow beneath me. A gush of his semen pours from me when he pulls out and rolls me to my back so he can see me.
“Fuck, June Bug! You’re crying! Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain? Shit!” he growls. His tone makes me jump, but his hand is petting me like I’m an injured animal. He’s so worried about me, and my heart clenches at his love for me.
I sniffle and cup his cheek with my hand. “I’ll be okay. All that walking just really did a number on me. I think I’ll do fine to just rest tonight while you go to the audition.” I smile at him to let him know that I really will be okay.
“You do need to rest, baby. I’ll stay here with you and the guys can handle the audit—” he begins, but I press my thumb over his lips.
“No. I’m just going to sleep. Finding a good bassist is critical to the success of your band, and you need to be there to help make that decision. Please, Bobby. You’ll be back probably before I even wake back up. I love you,” I tell him, sliding my fingers through the back of his hair so I can bring him closer to me. Kissing his lips gently, I try to convey without words that I will be fine.
“You win this time. I’ll be back in two to three hours tops. Stay in bed until I get back. On the way home, I’ll pick up some dinner. I love you too, June.”
And after a quick peck to my lips, I admire the view of my tattooed, badass lover as he climbs off the bed to hunt for his clothes. God, he’s so sexy.
“Where the fuck is Donnie?” I demand as I pace the studio office.
Our manager David just shrugs his shoulders in an ‘I never know where the fuck he is’ sort of gesture. Chaz is glaring at his phone as he types something in warp speed. I know that he and Neve are fighting. That’s the look he gets when he’s pissed at her.
“And where is the bassist that’s auditioning?” I ask David. These fuckers are slowing down my getting back to my woman.
David pulls out his phone and checks his texts. “Running ten minutes late. Traffic jam,” he reads, waving the phone in my direction.
I roll my eyes and storm back over to the window to see if Donnie is here yet. “I’m calling the fucker,” I grumble as I pull out my phone. Knowing that June is at home and hurting is making me feel like a helpless, caged animal. I just want to hurry and finish this audition so I can take care of her.
The asshole answers on the fourth ring. “Hello,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.
“Dammit, Donnie! You’re fucking sleeping?” I practically spit into the phone.
“Calm the fuck down, Bobby. I took a nap and overslept. I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he snaps back at me.
Running my hand through my hair, I calm myself down a bit before I ask him a favor. “Would you go check on June on the way up here? Just make sure she doesn’t need anything. You have a key.”
He chuckles on the other end. “Oh, I’ll check on her all night lo—” he starts to say until I hang up, effectively cutting him off. Fucking asshole knows how to push my buttons when I’m stressed.
When I turn to look at Chaz, the one who usually calms me when I flip out, he’s scowling at his phone still.
“Neve?” I ask and stalk over to where he’s at, plopping down on the sofa beside him.
“Yeah. She’s being a fucking bitch. I told her I’d take her out tonight for dinner after the audition, but she’s got other plans. What the fuck does that mean? I’ve been dating the girl for three fucking years and she’s never had other plans until recently. If she’s fucking someone behind my back, I’ll be fucking pissed,” he grumbles. But that’s the thing. He’ll be fucking pissed. If I thought June was going behind my back, I’d go fucking insane. Batshit crazy. ‘Kill a motherfucker that touches my woman’ kind of crazy. Chaz will just be fucking pissed.
A chime on the door draws our attention to a pretty, petite blonde in the doorway. Long, wavy hair hits at her waist. Her hair is highlighted with streaks of pink and black, making her look like some kind of Rock Star Barbie. Pale-blue eyes rimmed in thick, dark eyeliner study us. Her eye shadow is dark purple, and her lashes are so long and black that there’s no way they’re real. Dark-red lips frown at us.
“I’m Taylor Ryan, but you can call me Ryan,” she says in a husky voice and gives a little wave.
David stands and walks over to her. “Nice to meet you, Ryan. Are you ready to see if you’re a good fit for The Aces?” he asks.
I’m blown away by the fact that a chick wants to be in our band. She fits the rocker persona, but the question is: Can she play as good as Manny? I flick my gaze over to Chaz to see if I can get a feel for his stance on the whole thing and I’m shocked by the look on his face. He looks as if he’s ready to pounce on her. His body is tense and his eyes are heated as he blatantly checks her out. Well, shit.
I turn to look at her once more to see what I missed that he seems to be so enthralled with. She’s about June’s height—not too short, not too tall. Her breasts are on the smaller side, maybe a B or C cup. The pink shirt that hangs off one of her shoulders has the phrase “fuck off” scribbled across the front in black. She’s wearing black skinny jeans and a pair of knee-high pleather fucking boots. Her body is petite and thin, not as curvaceous as my woman. I can’t fucking see what he appears to see in her.
When I look back at her, she’s meeting his stare defiantly—almost as if she’s silently challenging him to even try. For a small girl, she looks like she packs a fucking punch.
“I guess we’ll just have to see,” she finally answers David while never dragging her glare from Chaz. I glance back over at him, and his hands are fisted at his sides as if he’s having trouble not storming over to her.
Finally, he breaks his silent standoff with her and grumbles, “Show us what you got, Barbie.”
She scoffs at the nickname and tosses her long hair over her shoulder as she follows David into the sound room. I suppress a laugh, because Chaz and I could be fucking twins sometimes—we share a brain for sure.
We trail behind them into the sound room and take our spots. I finally speak to her. “I’m Bobby, and this is Chaz.”
She nods as she pulls her bass from the case I am just now realizing she brought in with her. “I know who you are,” she snips out.
Once again, I bite back a grin. Every fucking asshole we’ve auditioned has been star struck. One guy was so nervous that he couldn’t stop shaking. But this girl. This girl has an attitude and I already know she’ll fucking fit in. Now can she play?
“David, put on the drum track since Jackass isn’t here. We can start with the fourth song on the third album,” I order, deliberately not naming the song. I want to see if she knows our music. One idiot who auditioned hadn’t ever even heard of us until he tried to get the job.
Her angry look morphs into one of determination that she quickly masks with indifference. Creepy Chaz is still watching her every move like she is his prey.
She adjusts the tuners on her bass while David searches through the tracks. I pick up my electric Les Paul Custom and strum once while waiting for him to get to the song. Chaz jerks his attention away from her long enough to snatch the microphone from the stand and turn it on. But
the moment the drums start playing, everyone turns their attention on Ryan.
Without missing a beat, she begins Manny’s part of the song with ease. Her fingers, sans pic, glide over the strings effortlessly, and she closes her eyes as she plays the song just like Manny would. She’s owning the fucking song so much that Chaz, who’s mesmerized by her, misses his part.
“Fuck!” he snaps into the microphone, causing Ryan and I both to stop playing. The drums beat on in the background as we watch him drag his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I’m off my fucking game tonight,” he admits.
“A chick?” she asks pointedly. David and I both laugh, earning a glare from Chaz. It’s always a fucking chick with him. One chick in particular. Fucking bitch-face Neve.
“Let’s start again,” he orders to David. David just shakes his head as he restarts the song.
This time, we make it through the entire song without any errors. Had I not been watching her, I’d have thought Manny was here with us. This girl could play.
When the song ends, I set my guitar in its stand and walk over to her. “How old are you? Where are you from?” I question and cross my arms across my chest.
She lifts her chin, and I can tell that it’s a mechanism of hers to appear stronger—tougher. “Twenty-four. Flagstaff, Arizona,” she answers, not offering any other information aside from the questions I asked her.
I’m about to ask her how long she’s been playing bass when my phone rings and the familiar Wrecking Ball song plays, letting me know that Donnie Dickhead is calling. Ryan smirks at my ringtone and I flip her off, causing her to laugh.
“Where are you, asshole?” I laugh into the phone.
“Get the fuck home now, Bobby!” he shouts into the phone.