by C. M. Owens
“I’ve never read anything substantiated on paranormal activity that wasn’t highly controversial, so I’m undecided on if I believe in the possibility of a death dimension with windows, or isolated breaches, to parallel planes,” she answers back.
“I believe Ms. Sterling is informing you that there are no such things as ghosts, Mr. Masters,” the dude dressed way more expensively than me says with thick condescension.
“And Batman’s name is Bruce. Not Ian,” Britt says very seriously through an intercom that carries throughout the house.
So that’s why I couldn’t follow her voice.
Mr. Suit holds out his arm. “Should I escort you to Master Sean’s room, or were you still debating whether or not to use the lou’s shower?”
“I’m guessing you get paid too much to feed a cat,” I say under my breath as he walks in front of me.
“Certainly not, but the darling feline is Sean’s responsibility, and he arranged to have Ms. Sterling ensure the cat’s well-being.”
“So someone calls Britt over here to do it because she’s even less important than you,” I surmise, snorting to myself at the shit-tastic way the rich really do things.
“Yes. Certainly. She’s their servant too,” the dick says in a serious tone before pushing open a door and walking away.
I glance inside, finding possibly the largest kid’s room I’ve ever seen in my life. Then I realize I’m just standing in the motherfucking closet when I see another door open to an enormous bathroom that connects to a monstrous bedroom.
That little dick’s a prick because he has a closet bigger than the house I grew up in.
I thought Britt’s room was large, but a twelve-year-old’s room make all her stuff look modest.
I only thought I wasn’t bothered by all the money until this minute. To top it all off, they have Britt running around dealing with shit below a douchebag butler’s salary—
A rattling in a huge set of cabinets scares the shit out of me, cutting off my inner rant as I give it a wary glare.
It rattles again, and I start to get worried that small psychopath-in-training has the cat locked in there. I yank open the door when it rattles again, and see something…horrifying lunge at my face as a feral battle cry explodes from its vicious jaws.
I slam the doors shut and hold them, a sound escaping me that I’ll be embarrassed about later…when my heart isn’t pounding in my throat.
“What?” Britt shouts as she jumps inside, hand over her heart.
“Someone fed Gizmo after midnight,” I tell her in a panic as the doors beside me rattle and I try holding them too, stretching myself across the front.
“What?” she asks, confused.
“There’s a fucking fed-after-midnight gremlin trapped in here!”
The doors in front of my knees start rattling, and I adjust again, wondering why there has to be so many damn cabinets and how the bastard is moving between them.
“I haven’t read anything that substantiated the existence of gremlins either,” Britt says slowly. “I find it improbable there’d be something like that in Banana’s playhouse.”
“Banana’s what?” I ask just as I hear something hiss above me.
A chill spreads down my spine as I slowly cut my gaze up toward the hairless, vicious creature there. The growing growl turns into a malicious rattle in its chest just before it spits out another hiss and makes a terrifying, warning noise, poised in the pounce position.
“Britt, run!” I shout as it lunges.
I dart out the door, and Britt shuts it behind me.
“She hates most people, but she’s just indifferent to me. I’ll be out in a minute,” she says from inside like it’s no big deal, as I lie in the hall floor, unaware that I’ve even fucking fallen until I feel a stabbing pain in my ankle that starts helping me piece the puzzle together.
“I think I just suffered an adrenaline black-out,” I say toward the door as I wince and push up to a sitting position.
The butler steps over my legs, smirking like a smug son of a bitch, as he walks back down the hallway to lurk some more.
A possessed cat with a playhouse inside a giant closet in a house that needs intercoms for better communication, since yelling is probably undignified.
Fucking. Rich. People.
Britt walks out just as I manage to get to my feet, and she shuts the door behind her.
“Sorry. I should have warned you,” she says with a slight grimace. “She’s a very selective sort of cat.”
“Is it a rich people thing to shave cats?” I ask her, watching as her brow furrows.
“No,” she decides to say as she walks away, not elaborating.
“Why do you have to feed her?” I ask as I follow.
“Because she’s indifferent to me,” she answers like that explains everything.
The creepy butler follows us to the door as Britt opens it, and he watches as we leave, exchanging dry, parting pleasantries with Britt like it’s a rehearsed line he can’t even muster up enthusiasm for.
She’s just as dry and dead in tone with him.
“My brother’s having this big fundraiser event in two months that I’m partially helping with. I know there’s a rule about not asking for a date too far in advance, but I didn’t know how far ahead you had bookings for the band. I was hoping you could be there if nothing is scheduled yet,” she says like she’s been working her way up to that.
I exhale heavily, scrubbing a hand over my face as I open the passenger side door of my truck for her.
I shut the door behind her, feeling her eyes on me as I hurry around to my side and climb in behind the wheel.
“Is the dress code black-tie?” I ask as I drive away from the intimidating house. “You haven’t ever seen me at any of the events Tag hosts, because black-tie things aren’t really in my comfort zone,” I confess, feeling a little like a dick.
“To be clear, you’re uncomfortable with the dress code and not the fact that I asked two months in advance?”
At my nod, she seems to relax. “Okay then.”
We pull up on the west side of campus, and I tug her to me to press my lips to hers before she gets out. She grins against the kiss, so I deepen the kiss until she finally breaks it, her smile quickly reforming.
“I’ll pick you up later,” I tell her as she gets out.
“Okay then,” she says with the same smile as she walks away, and I watch for a minute before driving toward my house, still a little annoyed with the fact she’s feeding a fucking cat in a house capable of paying someone to handle that. Like her time is less valuable.
Randy meets me at the door, rolling his eyes as I get out and start up the steps.
“You’re going to have to get Britt to call Krysta and find out why she’s mad at Sticks before we’re all driven insane,” he says like I’ve missed a house meeting or two and he’s catching me up.
“She’s pissed about the fact she and Britt were stepped all over at a club that’s apparently known for people rushing the stage like that,” I answer as my jaw grinds, not wanting to think about how much worse that could have been.
“I thought she was into Taylor, but apparently she was picking up whatever Sticks was laying down, and—”
“Stop talking, Randy,” I tell him as I head inside, finding Taylor and Sticks already playing around.
Sticks looks up and narrows his eyes.
“No, I’ve not talked to Krysta, and Britt hasn’t mentioned talking to her either. I think it’s time to cut bait,” I say as I sit down.
“I wasn’t gonna ask. Why would any of the Sterlings concern themselves with Krysta—the one they don’t even claim as their own?”
Rolling my eyes, I lift my guitar from the stand.
“Britt was feeding someone’s cat today because it was beneath a fancy butler’s paygrade, and they say it’s because the cat is indifferent to her. Trust me when I say Britt isn’t like the rest of them.”
“Silk is our best gi
g. Neither of you get to fuck it up because you don’t like people who have money,” Taylor says, running his fingers along the keyboard. “Because we need to keep getting paid for playing music, or we’re just a bunch of pathetic losers who’ve been wasting our college years.”
“No one’s fucking anything up,” Sticks grumbles. “I just hate the fucking way they treat her.”
“She told you they treated her bad, or you’re assuming this because the girl is a fucking wreck?” Taylor asks him on a groan.
“She doesn’t have to tell me. It’s fucking obvious. She’s never in the gossip columns as anything but the black sheep.”
“I remember when we sat around talking about how hot the girls chasing us look—the way men do,” Randy deadpans, earning a glare from all three of us. “Now we just sit around talking about gossip columns and girl drama—like a bunch of fucking girls. At this rate, we’re chattering more than we’re rehearsing. It’s bad when I’m pointing it out.”
Taylor’s glare fades, and he shrugs a shoulder at me.
“He has a point.”
I grab my bag and toss it to him. “Get out the new sheet music. It’s finally ready.”
“That’s more like it,” Randy says as he jogs over to find his.
Chapter 31
BRITT
“You put my napkin in my lap like I’m your child. Just admit you’re eating your words and turning into an all-the-time mom,” Allie is saying to Bella as I sit down at the brunch table.
Bella glares at her, as Tria and Rain just look on.
“Why couldn’t we have been these kinds of sisters?” Tria asks Rain, gesturing at Allie and Bella’s confusing staring contest.
“Because we both hated other women until we grew up,” Rain deadpans, her smile mimicking Allie’s when Bella finally blinks.
“It was one napkin,” Bella says like she’s ignoring everyone else.
“And you asked if I’d buckled up as you checked to pull out into traffic.”
“I’m a safe driver,” Bella informs her.
“And you buttered my toast yesterday morning when I stopped by.”
“Isa can’t eat toast yet, so that’s not even part of my mom arsenal,” Bella says in a tone that borders on exasperation.
“How long has this been going on?” Harley asks as she takes a seat beside me.
My phone vibrates with a text, and I start smiling the second I see Base’s name flash across the screen.
BASE: Sorry we rehearsed so late last night. We finally got it right though, and I’m all yours tonight.
BRITT: Will you finally teach me oral? Or should I call it a blowjob? Which word do you prefer?
“She’s smiling at her phone. Why is she smiling at her phone?” Rain asks.
Before I can answer, Harley starts choking as she leans over my phone, eyes wide.
“She’s sexting,” Harley hisses.
“No, I’m not,” I say, looking up and finding all the wide eyes on me. “I was just asking if Base would teach me oral tonight.”
Ash’s hand palms her face, as Bella sputters her water.
“Whaaaaaaat?” Rain chokes out like it’s a really long sentence crammed into one word.
“I’m referring to the act of giving him oral. I don’t need to learn the mechanics of how he does it to me.”
It’s really quiet when my phone vibrates with a new text, which makes the phone sound a lot louder than it is.
BASE: No word preference, but thanks for making it awkward to sit in a roomful of my bandmates.
ME: You didn’t answer the first question.
“What’d he say?” Brin asks as she leans over the table.
Again, a table full of eyes are on me.
“Begging a guy to teach you how to give a blowjob is sexting,” Harley assures me.
“Really?” I ask very seriously.
“Really,” they all answer.
I quickly text him back.
ME: I just discovered this is sexting. That’s inappropriate to do in group settings, so I’ll just see you tonight.
He immediately texts back with a thumb’s up emoji.
“Why would you do that? Now he knows that we all know you’re begging to give him a blowjob. That’s too much power to give a man,” Harley groans, scrubbing her hand over her face.
“I thought Base was out of the picture like three weeks ago,” Bella says like she’s confused.
“She’s young. Don’t expect her to be that strong yet,” Tria says.
“Actually, three weeks ago, he took my virginity,” I explain just before the waiter shows up.
“Are we ready to order?” he asks.
“No,” they all say in unison before I can order my omelet.
We only have five more minutes before they won’t make the omelet, so I quickly order my omelet before he leaves.
As soon as he’s gone, Harley grabs my hand.
“Why are you just now telling us?” she demands.
“Because I haven’t been back to the office, and I thought I’d tell you at our once-a-month brunch, since I finally had girl talk to share. I get a lot of the sexually charged metaphors now.”
Ash whispers something and covers her face again, shaking her head. It sounds like she’s praying for Base to not die, but I can’t be certain, because Bella starts talking.
“Were you safe?” Bella asks.
“Sounds like an immediate mom question,” Allie immediately retorts while I nod in answer to Bella.
“It sounds like I’ve worked in a hospital for my entire adult life,” Bella fires back.
“So not about you two right now,” Brin cuts in. “How was it?”
I try to think of how to summarize it without ambiguous wording.
“I wish I was good at poetry,” I start.
“Oh, the girl thinks it was poetic,” Harley says as her eyes shut and she fans herself.
“Oh my damn. You’re blushing. You never blush,” Ruby says like it’s an accusation as she points her finger at me.
At least that explains why spontaneous heat started blooming on my cheeks.
“It was much better than I thought possible, and I don’t have a horror story to share,” I elaborate.
“Much better than she thought possible,” Tria says like she’s swooning.
“Why have you waited three weeks to tell us this?” Harley asks while giving my shoulder a little shake.
“It’s highly addictive, and we’ve spent a lot of time improving my technique,” I tell her in my defense.
Rain slaps a hand on the table.
Tria drops her glass.
Harley knocks over her water.
Ash somehow manages to fall out of her chair.
Bella and Allie exchange wide eyes.
Brin and Ruby exchange high-fives.
In short, the entire table reacts more to that than the announcement of the dissolution of my hymen issue.
Just when I think I’m starting to predict them…
“I’d say it’s always the ones you least suspect, but she’s been obsessed with sex for a while, so I’m gonna say we should have seen this coming,” Tria finally says as she apologizes to the man coming to clean up the glass.
“I’m fine,” Ash says as she sticks a hand up and starts climbing back into her seat. “Thanks for asking.”
I must have missed someone asking her how she is.
“You’ve spent the better part of three weeks having sex with Base Masters?” Bella asks, clearing her throat. “Like a lot?”
I’m not sure why I’m smiling, but I do know I can’t stop. I settle for a nod, since I’m worried about how I can talk and smile like this.
Also, I have no logical explanation as to why talking about this is really making me miss him. I just saw him before I left. He hadn’t been in bed very long because his rehearsal took longer than expected.
“And he’s still essentially living with you?” Allie asks, not sounding as enthused anymore.
<
br /> “Yes, but we’re not in a relationship. I’m not ready to risk falling in love, and he doesn’t want a relationship while he’s in the middle of trying to build his career.”
“I forget how young she is,” Harley says as she sits back, looking a little deflated. “I was so excited.”
“She’s young. Let her enjoy making some of the fun mistakes. It’s not like she’s jeopardizing anything,” Ruby says, though I have no idea what conversation they’re having.
“Yes, but she’s also naïve, so she doesn’t even realize how bad this can hurt,” Rain says to Ruby, who groans.
“You know he’s going to be gone on a rock tour for a year, right?” Bella asks.
“Yes,” I say slowly, confused by the change in the atmosphere.
My omelet gets dropped off at the table, but they send the man away before he can take their orders.
“Which is why it’s safe to use this as a first boyfriend-ish experience, even though we’re not in a relationship. I can figure out the dos and don’ts without the fear of illogical attachment, because there’s a healthy expiration date.”
“Boyfriend-ish?” Harley echoes.
“Healthy expiration date?” Ash asks with that wrinkle on her forehead that makes the constipation-versus-confused battle begin.
I open and close my mouth, appreciating the fish-in-the-glass-bowl metaphor at this moment.
“You’ve all already burst everyone else’s bubbles. Let her live in hers just a little bit longer,” Brin says on a sigh.
“Musicians can be intense. Passionate. Unhealthy addictions,” Bella starts saying. “And you’re very young—”
She stops talking.
“I really do sound like an all-the-time mom,” she says as she gives a wide-eyed, panicked look to Allie.
Allie pats her shoulder like she’s comforting her.
“Be careful,” Ash says just as Rain opens her mouth. “Just be careful that you don’t both get in over your heads. Base doesn’t usually get this sidetracked by anyone, so that says something.”
I want to ask about the something it says, when Brin slices her hand through the air.
