by Trina M. Lee
“It’s no bother at all.” With a wink, I took the marker and scrawled my name on the cover jacket. I saw that Jett had already done the same. “If you want to grab the other girls for an autograph, don’t hesitate. It’s cool. We love to hear from you guys.”
“Wicked, thanks. You guys kick ass. If you don’t win this, it will be fucking robbery.”
I smiled to myself, watching them walk away. Funny how something so simple and brief could make my whole night brighter. It pumped me up, and suddenly I was impatient and eager to be on stage.
The first band was doing sound check. The ladies running the beer tubs and handing out shooters were already busy. People kept streaming into the building. Perfect.
Arrow was just leaving the dressing room when I entered. He was wearing a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and a sneer to go with it. I smirked but didn’t waste a breath on him.
The girls sat chatting with one of the Sacred Stone guys. I was annoyed with the small space that all four bands were expected to share, but of course the girls wanted to hang there.
“I hate this fucking dressing room.” I couldn’t resist a peek in the mirror though I’d just done my makeup less than an hour ago. “I already feel like you’re all sucking up the air.”
Tash laughed and swigged from a beer. “Yeah it’s definitely not for the claustrophobic.”
“Are you guys coming to the party at Arrow’s after?” This from Jett, who rolled a joint on the small coffee table in front of the couch.
“Yes,” Rubi spoke quickly, looking at Tash as if expecting an argument. “We are. Right, girls?”
Tash shrugged her agreement. When I didn’t respond, they all looked to me.
“Really?” I asked. “A party at Arrow’s? But he’s such a dick.”
“Right. So let’s go to his place and drink his beer.” Jett was flippant, like it just made sense.
A party at Arrow’s might not be such a bad idea. There would be enough people there to avoid having him catch me alone. And Rowen would be there. Now his Facebook friend request I had accepted. A chance to speak with him again would be nice.
“Sure, whatever,” I said with a nod. “I’m up for an after party.”
“Ok, bitches. I’m going to go start drinking. You coming?” Jett waited for a response.
I set my guitar down in the corner next to Tash’s bass. We still had to unload our amps from her van, but there was always time for a drink first. “Right behind you.”
“We’ll meet you down there,” Rubi said to our retreating forms though her gaze was on the Sacred Stone drummer.
Jett started the night off with a round of shots, her usual. We each had two Alabama Slammers, a yummy shot that left me feeling warm and tingly. We moved through the bar, mingling with friends and acquaintances.
The emcee stepped up to the microphone to announce the first band, and the crowd cheered.
“Isn’t that your boy over there?” Jett nudged me and pointed through the mass of people.
Rowen sat at a table with the rest of his band mates. I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the view. His mohawk was perfect; that long piece falling in his eyes was so damn sexy. Then my gaze settled on the perky blonde chatting him up, and my bubble popped.
Disappointed, I said, “Looks like he’s busy.” Maybe it was for the best. I wasn’t supposed to be interested in him anyway.
“Screw that. They’re just talking. You can go talk to him too.” Jett smiled, her glossy lips curving mischievously. “Tequila him.”
I eyed Rowen thoughtfully and chuckled. “Oh, Jett, that’s so bad.”
“And it’ll work like a charm. Go on. Work it, bitch.” She gave me a shove toward the bar. It was all the encouragement I needed.
As I waited in line at the bar, I glanced back at Rowen again. He was shaking his head at the blonde, who didn’t appear to be too steady on her feet. She reached for his arm, but he shook her off, frowning in annoyance. Perhaps he wasn’t busy after all. Watching them interact I became certain that she was an ex.
I ordered two tequila shots, grabbed two slices of lime and a saltshaker, and made my way toward the Molly’s Chamber table. My pulse sped up as I neared. Ignoring Arrow was going to be difficult, but I wasn’t interested in him, which was about to become very clear.
I sidled up to Rowen, coming up on his other side, opposite the nagging ex-girlfriend. I nodded a quick hello to his friends, refusing to meet Arrow’s eyes.
“Dude, you’re totally missing out on tequila shots.” Holding a shot glass out to him, I turned a phony smile on the girl clinging to his arm.
“Hey, Spike.” Rowen brightened at my arrival. He glanced at the drinks I held. “Thanks but I don’t really drink tequila.”
Without missing a beat, I tilted my head and sprinkled salt on the side of my exposed neck. I shot Rowen a daring look. “You do now.”
I sensed his intrigue, which turned to discomfort, and took joy in knowing it was a game and that he would play. The blonde gaped at me. Rowen glanced between the two of us before he took the shot glass and stood up, leaning in to lick the salt from my neck.
The warmth and heat of his tongue on my sensitive flesh caused me to quiver. Did he feel it? I hoped so. Rowen lingered for just a moment, his tongue sweeping across my skin a second time.
That’s when I met Arrow’s watchful gaze. I raised a brow and smirked. He stared, his expression unreadable.
Rowen tossed back the shot and accepted the lime I offered. He sucked it into his mouth, and my gaze dropped to his lips. Damn I wanted to kiss him. My face felt flushed, and I knew my cheeks were pink. The sensation of his mouth on my neck had lit a fire inside me.
The blonde made a noise of disgust before spinning on a heel and drunkenly storming off.
I asked, “Ex-girlfriend?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Yeah. Most guys don’t look like they’re in that much pain when talking to a chick in a skirt that short.”
Rowen ran a hand over his hair and grinned. A faint blush colored his cheeks. “Thanks for the save. And the shot.”
“Anytime.” Heat flooded me, leaving me slightly breathless. The fire he’d started could only be extinguished one way. Our moment had been too brief, and I craved more.
Rowen offered me his seat and swiped another for himself from the next table. I settled in with the Molly’s Chamber boys, beaming brightly when I caught Arrow scowling in my direction.
For the next hour I sat there, talking and joking, getting to know Rowen. We exchanged our craziest show stories and shared our experiences in the rock scene so far. When we compared our favorite bands, we learned that we had both been raised on ’70s rock like Black Sabbath and KISS.
Sam, seated on my other side, joined in our conversation, but due to the noise Arrow and Greyson talked among themselves. For the most part Arrow did a good job pretending there was no reason for tension between us. Just twice I caught him looking at me with thinly veiled contempt.
The first band wrapped up their set, my cue to leave. “Thanks for the seat,” I said, gesturing to my chair as I stood, smoothing my skirt into place. “We’re up next so I’m out of here.”
Rowen stopped me with a hand on mine. His palm was warm, kick starting my libido. “You’re coming to the party after, right?” He turned his hopeful amber eyes on me.
I melted under that gaze. I could feel Arrow’s sudden interest as he awaited my response. Resisting the urge to laugh in his stupid face, I said, “I’ll be there.”
“Break a leg,” Rowen added as I turned to go.
“Break both legs,” Arrow muttered loud enough to be heard over the noise. Then he laughed as if it had been a joke.
I laughed it off, which wasn’t easy. If I fell off the stage and broke my damn legs or something equally screwed up, I’d know who cursed me. And he would pay.
I fetched my guitar from upstairs before rushing outside to help the girls unload the van. We hauled our stuff on stage and pl
ugged in. As usual Jett was off schmoozing and drinking while we did the work. The stage lights were dim, leaving us in shadows as we did a sound check.
I could feel the weight of a gaze upon me, but this time I knew it was Arrow. Nothing he could say or do was going to bring me down from this high. The rush of Rowen’s gaze and the memory of his tongue on my skin elevated me to a level of giddy that no drug could replicate.
I kept reminding myself that I wasn’t interested in dating. Relationships were for suckers, and I was done being a sucker.
By the time Jett joined us, she was tipsy and overflowing with enough excited energy to keep us all going. She rambled on about the hottie guitarist from Sacred Stone who chatted her up while I was with Rowen. She used the word delicious so many times, I had to laugh.
Turning one of the tuning pegs on my guitar until it was just right, I said, “I can’t tell if you want to fuck him or eat him.”
Jett flashed a secretive smile. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“It’s about time you found yourself a new toy.” And it was. Jett had been steering clear of guys since her breakup, which made her a nagging pain in the ass when any of the rest of us showed interest in a guy, especially poor Tash.
“True enough.” Jett shrugged and checked that her mic was hooked up. “He’s a fox. He’ll make a good way to kill some time. I think it’ll be fun.”
“What if they kick our ass? Will you still fuck him then?”
“If they win… then I might have to eat him.”
We shared a laugh.
Moments later the emcee announced us. The crowd settled down until the moment we began to play. Then they erupted in shouts and cheers so loud I thought they might blow the roof off the place.
The notes poured out of my fingers, coming from deep within me, projected out through my guitar, becoming something to be shared with the rowdy audience. I forgot all about Arrow and even Rowen. In that moment I was caught up in something greater. And it was amazing.
* * * *
Arrow’s house wasn’t as big as I’d anticipated. It wasn’t small either though. A two-level house in a nice neighborhood with a finished basement, it seemed like more of a family home than a bachelor pad… until we got inside.
The heavy masculine aroma was instant and strong. The place wasn’t a mess, but it did border on untidy. It was bare of any real sense of décor. The mismatched furniture appeared comfortable at least. Posters adorned the walls, everything from The Beatles to a Playboy Playmate.
The lively sound of celebration filled Arrow’s house. After another night of fighting for a dream, three bands were going to the semi-finals: Molly’s Chamber, Sacred Stone, and Crimson Sin. I could have fainted with relief when the emcee called our name.
The drugs and alcohol flowed freely, accompanied by a steady stream of live music. People littered the house from top to bottom. The majority congregated in the basement, which Arrow had turned into a jam space.
On our way down the stairs to join in on the music, we passed Rowen on his way up with an armful of empty bottles and cans. He gestured with a head tilt for me to join him, so I promptly abandoned the girls.
I followed him into the kitchen where he opened a back door and tossed the empties into a large, plastic bin.
Teasing, I asked, “Do you usually clean up while the party is still going on? Seems like an exercise in futility.”
He laughed, a soothing sound that made me want to hear more. “Well, you’re not wrong there. But if I don’t at least try to keep up on it, then it’s going to be so much worse tomorrow. Arrow sucks for cleaning. He’ll let it pile up until I just do it.”
It dawned on me then that the two of them were roommates. Oh how very unfortunate. I hid my dismay behind a neutral smile.
The floor vibrated beneath our feet from the high volume in the basement. Several voices blended in to make a cacophony of noise. “Sounds like we showed up at a good time. Congratulations, by the way, on your big win.”
“Thanks.” His grin couldn’t possibly be any brighter. “You too. Don’t tell Arrow I said this, but I think you guys are going to be the last band standing.”
“Aww.” A blush warmed my face. It had been a long time since I’d had butterflies like this. The infatuated rush of attraction left me dizzy. “That’s so nice of you to say.”
“I mean it.” Back inside the kitchen, Rowen dug around in a cupboard before producing a bottle of Jack Daniels. He held it up for my appraisal. “Are you a whiskey girl?”
Though my drink of choice tended to involve clear spirits, I was up for anything. “I can be.”
“Great. Do you want it mixed or anything?”
“Surprise me.”
With a shrug Rowen closed the cupboard, unscrewed the lid, and swigged straight out of the bottle. I accepted the bottle when he offered it and took a burning swallow.
“I’d take you downstairs, but honestly, I’d rather keep you to myself.” His laugh was a caress on my skin.
“No complaints here.” I followed him into the living room, delighted at the chance to speak to him one on one away from the noisy bar scene. Cinder’s warning resurfaced in my thoughts, reminding me that this wasn’t supposed to be happening.
But I haven’t done anything wrong, I thought. We’re just hanging out. Besides, the last thing I wanted was something serious. Relationships and I didn’t go together so well.
Rowen fetched a guitar from the many littering the house, and we sat alone in the living room. The noise from downstairs was tremendous, and the poker game in the dining room was filled with loud chatter and cursing. I was oblivious, happy to drink whiskey and watch Rowen play guitar.
“I think you look better with the bass,” I said with a coy smile. “But I like this too. What else can you play?”
He hung his head so that the long piece of his mohawk fell into his eyes. It was so damn irresistible that I had to fight the urge to brush it back.
“I’ve been known to sing on occasion. I kind of prefer not to be the front man though. Bass is my favorite. It’s where all the soul is.”
Rowen strummed the guitar with the touch of a lover, making me envious of the instrument. I could have watched endlessly. It seemed to come so naturally to him.
“What about you?” he asked. “How long have you been playing?”
We passed both the bottle and the guitar back and forth. While one of us drank, the other strummed. We talked and we played, and it was fantastic. I learned that Rowen was a mechanic by day. His love of cars and rock music showed through his infectious enthusiasm. For a while I even forgot that we weren’t really two regular people who happened to share a love of music. What we shared went beyond this world. And Rowen didn’t even know it yet.
The spell was broken when Arrow pounded his way drunkenly up the stairs. He stumbled his way over to us with an unlit cigarette in one hand. He sat heavily on the floor next to me, snapping the cigarette in the process.
“Son of a bitch.” Tossing the smoke aside, he grabbed the bottle from me and took a large drink. “You’ve got a smoke I can get off you, right?”
“Seriously?” I sat up straighter, wary now, and gave him an appraising glance. “Maybe. But don’t jack the last of the whiskey, bitch.”
Holding a finger up, Arrow dug around in his jeans pocket until he pulled out a joint. “Peace offering?”
As Rowen played a song, I lit the joint and began to pass it around our small group of three. The Jack Daniels bottle followed. The tune he played was good. I wasn’t sure I’d heard it before.
“Is that a Molly’s Chamber song?” I asked. “It’s really good.”
“No.” Rowen shook his head and blushed. “Just something new I’ve been working on.”
Arrow made a show of gagging. “Did you write a song for your new crush here? How fucking sweet.”
Rowen grumbled, “Shut up. You heard it already, and you said it was good, so eat ass.”
New crush? That gave m
e pause. Surely Arrow was joking. Rowen and I had just met a week ago. Letting my hair fall forward, I studied him from behind a veil of black. Turning his attention back to the guitar, Rowen continued to play.
“I think it’s beautiful, Rowen.” My words sparked a light in his eyes, and I smiled. I was starting to really adore this guy. That could get dangerous.
Arrow studied us, looking from me to Rowen. “You guys do realize that there’s an extremely good chance our bands will go head to head in the finals. Right?”
I shot him a daring look. “And your point is?”
“That this little fling you two are working up to may not be so fun when that happens.” With an indifferent shrug, Arrow blew out a puff of smoke and eyed us knowingly. He was such a dick.
“Who says it has to just be a fling?” Rowen challenged, and I looked at him sharply.
“Oh no.” Arrow lay back on the floor, stretching languorously. “Not this again. You’ve got to give up on this ridiculous pursuit of love, Rowen. It’s not good for you.” To me he added, “No offense.”
We stared in tense silence at one another. I didn’t want Rowen to pick up on the unspoken animosity simmering between Arrow and I, so I said, “None taken.” I smiled, a brittle twist of my lips that made my face ache. “I wouldn’t expect you to know the first thing about love.”
“Whatever, Spike. That battle is ours. Love be damned.”
Rowen strummed a little louder, as if trying to drown out the awkward conversation. I sat back, leaning on one hand while puffing slowly on the joint with the other. My head swam, and I handed it off to Arrow, feeling like I’d had enough.
He tried to pass me the whiskey bottle, but I held up a hand and shook my head. My tongue felt heavy and thick. It was hard to form a thought. I knew I was drunk, but I didn’t think I was that drunk yet. Still a thick fog cloaked my brain.
Arrow watched me closely, and I knew then that he’d done something. He’d added something sketchy to the joint or the whiskey. Rowen set the guitar aside and leaned back against the wall. He said something, but it didn’t compute. Whatever it was, Arrow replied, his tone smooth and even. What the hell was going on?