He’d had enough beer to relax after being keyed up. It was his night in the bedroom and he was grateful. The cots weren’t bad, but they made him appreciate the feel of a real bed. Even the couch couldn’t compare. What was funny was Brad knew the bed had seen better days. But it didn’t matter.
He was having a hard time drifting off. Sleep was elusive, and he was sure it was because the progress Fully Automatic was making helped him hope for the future. He could almost feel it.
He rolled to his other side, trying to clear his thoughts…
And then he heard it.
The unmistakable sounds of a woman having an orgasm.
Not just a woman.
Val.
Oh, God, no. His worst fears confirmed and in what a shitty way. His mind was struggling with it, trying to help him find a way to deny it. Maybe she was masturbating, right? That would be hot.
But he knew. It was something he’d known in the back of his mind for a while. He knew it was Ethan with Valerie, and he was trying not to imagine them fucking. It was hard, though, as her cries lingered, and he squeezed his eyes tighter, bending the pillow to cover his exposed ear, trying to block out her sounds of passion, trying not to hate the man who was a brother to him.
Now there was no question as to if Valerie was a virgin anymore. If Ethan hadn’t been diving deeper into some heavy shit, Brad might be okay with it.
All right. Not completely. But Brad did want Val to be happy. He could at least learn to live with it.
And, as though the universe wanted to make sure he wasn’t in denial, he heard them talking after. They weren’t loud, but he could tell it was Ethan and Val. There was no question. He considered covering his ears with his pillow again, but then they were quiet. And if the adrenaline would leave his body, he could try to go to sleep.
But, moments later, she started orgasming again. Jesus Christ.
If he’d thought sleep was difficult to attain before, he’d had no idea. And, suddenly, the bed just didn’t feel as comfortable anymore.
* * *
The next morning, Brad poured water into the coffee pot, trying to force himself awake. He’d hardly slept the night before. His stomach had been in a knot. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to fall asleep, but he was grateful that they’d grown quiet after the second time.
He stretched and turned around, leaning against the counter, and he saw three guys sleeping in the living room instead of two. What the fuck was Ethan doing sleeping out here? Had Val kicked his ass out afterward?
No…that didn’t seem like something she’d do. More likely, Ethan had felt uncomfortable and selfish (nothing new) and left her room. Fucked her and left her. Brad nodded, gritting his teeth again and pouring a cup of coffee before heading into the shower. He had a song brewing inside him he’d have to write, a song no one but himself would ever see.
Since he didn’t have to work that day, he started writing his song in the bedroom on his acoustic guitar. He heard Val leave for work, and he felt relieved that he hadn’t had to look her in the eyes. He couldn’t right now—just couldn’t. She’d be able to tell and, if she was happy, he didn’t want to ruin it for her.
He wanted her to be happy. He was going to do his best to make sure she was.
So, later that afternoon, he just couldn’t help himself. Ethan had treated Val like shit in the past, and by God, it wasn’t going to happen again. If he’d deflowered the girl, then he was going to treat her like his girlfriend and not just another whore. If Brad had had the money, he would have just joined a gym and pumped iron until he couldn’t move or beaten a bag until he fell down. But he couldn’t. All he had was his guitar and his mind. And so he spent the entire morning thinking…thinking about how he was going to say to Ethan what he had to say.
He did get out of the house to take a walk to clear his mind and, when he got back, decided to talk to Ethan soon. If nothing else, maybe he could talk some sense into his self-destructive friend. When he got back, Ethan was sitting on the chair in the living room. He’d been up for a while by the looks of it. Nick was back in the bedroom pounding on the drums, and Zane was in the kitchen eating breakfast. Ethan was dressed but he didn’t seem fully alert. Brad stopped in front of his friend. “Hey, man…let me know when you’re awake. We need to talk.”
Ethan looked up, squinting one of his eyes as though Brad were the sun. His mouth curled on one side, but Brad couldn’t read him. “Say what you gotta say now. I am awake.”
Brad inhaled. Yeah, his thoughts were organized enough. He nodded, took a slow breath, and swallowed. “What’s goin’ on with you and Val?”
Ethan let out a breath and shook his head. “I knew it. I knew I should’ve talked to you first. Val said there was nothing going on between you two.”
That almost winded him. Nothing? There was nothing between them? He wasn’t sure how the hell to respond to that. Val was a liar if she’d said there was nothing…there was definitely something, even though they’d both chosen to sublimate it. But Brad also knew his friend Ethan a little too well and suspected his friend might be exaggerating what Valerie said. Maybe Valerie had told him their agreement…that stupid hands-off policy Brad himself had put into place, and Ethan had simplified it. Yeah…that sounded right. Val had always seemed open and honest with Brad, so he could believe that a little better. Either that or she was fooling herself. That too was a possibility. So he took another breath before answering his friend. “For the good of the band, we decided not to go there. You knew that.”
Ethan shrugged. “I know that’s what you told her dad.”
Brad kept his voice level even though he could feel anger starting to simmer in his chest. “I meant it.” He took another deep breath. “But you didn’t answer my question. You and Val…”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “What about it?” He let out a breath and closed his eyes. “Yeah, okay. So…we’re kinda together.”
“What do you mean kinda? Either you are or you aren’t. I’m sure Val doesn’t feel so half-hearted about it.”
“Exactly how would you know that, Bradley?”
Brad sucked in another deep breath, trying to keep calm. Ethan usually called him Bradley when he wanted to poke at him, and he knew this was one of those times. Ethan was implying that, just because Brad had never made love to Valerie, he didn’t know what she wanted…but Brad suspected he knew more about what Val wanted and needed than his drugged-out friend did. He thought he might know a lot more about the way Val thought than maybe even she did. “Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.” Ethan rolled his eyes. Brad decided to try a different approach and sat on the sofa so he was seated diagonally next to Ethan. “She really cares about you, man.” Why, he couldn’t understand. “Try to be good to her.”
He saw Ethan bristle. “I have been.” His eyelids lowered.
“Then be better.” Ethan looked up at him again. “Quit takin’ the shit. She worries about that.”
Ethan’s voice was low. “She’s not my mom. Neither are you. I didn’t ask what she wanted. I didn’t ask for her to want me.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re committed now. You have more than just yourself to think about.”
Ethan stood. Yeah…Brad was getting under his skin. Good. Maybe that was what he needed to wake up. “I didn’t ask to watch out for someone else. She’s a big girl. She makes her own decisions.”
“Jesus, man. Think about what you’re saying.” He stood up. Ethan seemed to think he could intimidate Brad by hovering over him, but Brad was taller. He didn’t even need to puff his chest out like Ethan. He just stood up.
“I have. She knows me. She knows what I’m like. I’ve never hidden that from her. She takes me as I am or not. I don’t give a shit.”
Brad couldn’t keep it out of his voice anymore. It was all he could do to not jab Ethan in the chest with his finger. All that emotion he’d been bottling up inside… “You don’t deserve her.”
“Fuck that. I make her hap
py.”
Brad fought to not punch his friend in the face, even though Ethan had it coming. “Does she look happy to you?”
Ethan smirked. “You heard her yourself.”
Oh…fuck that. It took everything in Brad to not just beat the shit out of his friend. Not only was Ethan being a certified asshole to the woman who’d fallen prey to his charms, but he was rubbing his best friend’s nose in it. Ethan had to know Brad cared for Val…a lot. So to throw that out there… Still, he wanted Valerie to be happy, and that was what he was going to focus on—not the red rage and jealousy threatening to overtake him. “Ethan, you’re a mess. You know it and I know it. You wanna make her happy? Get your shit together, man.”
Ethan got close to Brad, raising his shoulders to give the appearance that he was almost as tall as his friend. Brad felt a primal urge inside himself, the part of him that would have survived pre-civilization, and it wanted him to give in, to just get physical with his friend, beat some sense into him—or at least to beat him into submission. Out of the corner of his eye, Brad saw Zane walk in from the kitchen. Apparently, even their friend sensed what was in the air.
But then the front door opened…to none other than Val. Brad didn’t want to back down from the challenge, but at the same time, he didn’t want to upset Val. He couldn’t quite pull his eyes away from Ethan’s, wasn’t going to, because he knew his friend would view that as a sign of weakness, no matter why he’d looked away. When she closed the door and started to approach them, though, they both backed down. Nothing would happen now. She said, “What’s going on?”
Brad took a small step back and looked at Val. He cleared his throat and hoped he could pull off the lie. He knew she’d know anyway, but he had to say it just the same…out of respect to both her and Ethan. “Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding.”
Ethan had an angry look on his face, but he wasn’t going to contradict Brad. “Yeah.”
Brad inhaled, trying to shift gears. “How was work?”
Val shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes looked concerned. “Nothing exciting.”
Brad nodded and forced a smile. He too had to do what he’d just lectured Ethan about. He couldn’t make Val happy either if he was constantly poking at Ethan and making him mad. Val certainly wouldn’t be thrilled to know about their argument. So…he’d have to just keep his mouth shut. “Well…you’re home now. Take a load off.”
He saw the look that crossed Val’s face as she looked at Ethan. The girl loved the guy—for better or worse. Yeah…it would be best for Brad to just go finish writing another song and keep his goddamned mouth shut. She loved his friend, and there wasn’t a damn thing he’d be able to do about it. Not now, at any rate.
But he was going to have to find a way to get over it. Val had made her choice…and he was going to have to find a way to live with it.
Chapter Thirty-three
IN THEORY, BRAD was making peace with the Val-Ethan thing. But the next time he heard her having another orgasm, he couldn’t take it anymore. When he slept in the living room, he’d taken to playing movies on the computer until he fell asleep; it also helped drown out any potential noise. In the bedroom, though, it was a crap shoot. He’d been able to sleep the following night he’d been in there, but his next night after that, Ethan was giving it to her good, and he just couldn’t lie there and listen to their lovemaking.
Val should have been his girl.
He shouldn’t have waited, shouldn’t have been patient. From the second he’d seen her, he should have acknowledged whatever it was between them and acted on it. He should have made it his mission to wipe Ethan out of her mind.
Part of him knew it wouldn’t have worked, but he couldn’t stop kicking himself for not having tried.
Damned if he was going to lie there listening. He was tempted to lie on Ethan’s bed in the living room. That too would force his friend to think about staying with Val all night instead of sneaking out of there like an uncaring bastard.
He got up and put on a fresh pair of jeans and t-shirt, then found his boots beside the bed. He wasn’t sure where he was going to go, but he couldn’t stay in the apartment. He grabbed his black leather jacket out of the closet, because the evenings were starting to cool off, and then he tucked his wallet, phone, and keys into the pockets. He turned off the bedroom light and opened the door as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound as he crossed the kitchen linoleum. When he got out the apartment door, he walked normally down the hall, the fear of waking up or alerting his roommates no longer a worry.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do or where he would wind up, but he figured if he was gone for a few hours, they’d be asleep if nothing else. He got in his car and drove around for a while and then decided he knew what he wanted. He didn’t know if he was too young for it or not, so he pulled out his phone.
Yeah…there was a BYOB stripper joint a few miles south of his location and the only requirement was that he be over eighteen. He needed some entertainment, something that would take his mind off his emotions, and having some nude girls dancing in front of him for a while might do the trick. Just driving there, thinking about it, having a goal in mind made him feel better.
He had to show his ID at the door to verify his age. He was glad it wasn’t a bar or he would have been fucked. He was also glad he had more cash than he’d thought he would need.
At first, he’d thought it was perfect. Dozens of hot women were grinding and dancing right in front of him. He hadn’t completely known what to expect, having heard on occasion about how the women at these kinds of places weren’t actually attractive, but the women here were damned sexy.
Unfortunately, the ladies—even the drop dead gorgeous ones—just weren’t doing it for him. They weren’t Val and his pain was too fresh. It had been an excellent thought, but it wasn’t doing a thing to pull him out of his funk. He could even imagine one of these hot girls doing anything nasty to him, because he couldn’t get Valerie out of his head.
One of the women—a girl introduced to the audience as Sugar—looked like Val, except she was probably a few years older. She was a little short but cute with long, dark brown hair. She didn’t smile but Brad suspected that if she had, her cheeks would have looked like Val’s when she would. Val’s smile lit up her entire face.
That thought just made Brad pissed because he couldn’t even stop thinking about her here. She consumed his thoughts.
And here was this gorgeous angel, ready to peel clothing off at any given moment. She was dancing to some hip hop tune Brad had no chance of recognizing. More than once the girl looked him straight in the eyes. She was probably wondering why he didn’t move closer and give her a dollar bill or two.
He glanced down to check the hour on his phone. It was probably about time that he could leave and go home to peace and quiet. But he was first going to allow himself to try to enjoy one or two more acts. He tried to clear his mind and focus on the woman onstage.
The girl who called herself Sugar ground herself next to the pole, thrusting and pumping, and if Brad hadn’t felt like shit, he would have thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. The woman had long, straight dark hair and green eyes. She was stacked. Brad couldn’t tell if her tits were real or fake, and he didn’t care. Either way, they were a work of art. She was thin but curvy and, goddamn, did she know how to move. She was sexy and she earned every bill thrown on the stage at her. And, even though Brad knew all the men at the base of the stage gripping their drinks were under her spell, something didn’t look quite right to Brad. He couldn’t figure out why. But then he realized it was probably his own shitty mood overshadowing what he thought he saw.
Sugar left the stage, making way for “Sexy Sapphire,” and Brad took another sip of his water. He was considering going home and seeing if they had anything else to drink somewhere in the apartment or if someone had hidden some weed somewhere. He needed to become numb. He didn’t want to feel anymore, not tonight any
way. He was done, and he couldn’t let himself continue feeling the way he had been. He had to get over this shit.
He was glad he was sitting farther back, because he didn’t have any of the incidental conversation, with either the dancers or the guys. He’d never been to a strip club before, so he didn’t know enough to know if conversation was normal or not, but he didn’t want to chance it. If he’d been hanging with friends, it would have been one thing, but talking about sex or a hot chick with a complete stranger when all he was trying to do was ward off an erection might be weird.
Ten more minutes, and he was going to leave, and just as he had that thought, a girl sat next to him. Brad could sense she was trying to get his attention, so he turned his head to look at her. The woman was dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top covered with a jean jacket. She had tall black boots on that were, Brad could admit, sexy, but he was not in the mood. It took a few seconds, but then he realized the woman sitting next to him was Sugar, the stripper who’d gotten his attention onstage earlier. When he made eye contact, she said, “Hey.”
She was young. Onstage, she’d looked older, but up close, he could tell her real age was closer to teens than thirties. If she was older than Brad, he would have been surprised. She looked him over and gave him a flirtatious smile. He said, “I know you have to work, but you might as well know I’m not in the mood tonight. Those guys over there?” he said, tilting his head toward the guys at the bottom of the stage. “They’re the ones you should be talking to.”
“I’m off the clock. Why? Did you want a lap dance?”
He shook his head. “No. Thanks.”
“Really, I’m off the clock. I just thought you might want to talk.”
Brad smiled and pried his eyes away from the stage. “Talk?”
“Yeah. You look…kinda sad. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it.” He didn’t say anything, instead taking another swig of his water. Yeah, he bet that looked really cool too. He probably looked like a kid.
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 115