Rock & Roll Girls

by CL Rowell

  5

  *

  A couple weeks later, I received a text from Callie in the middle of the night.

  Are you awake?

  Yes. I’m surprised you are, though. I sat up and reached for my robe.

  Can I come over?

  Now? I shoved my arms through the sleeves and knotted the belt. Of course.

  I opened the door seconds after she knocked. I pulled her inside, where it was lighter, and gasped. Her eyes were swollen, her face was blotchy…she’d been bawling—hard.

  She averted her face. “Don’t look at me. I know I look awful,” Her voice was husky, as if her throat was raw, too.

  I pushed her down onto the couch and poured her a drink. Detouring by the half bath in the hall, I brought a damp washcloth so she could wipe her face. Setting a box of tissues within reach, I dropped down beside her and demanded, “What happened?”

  She blew her nose and whispered, “I went to another concert.”

  “Jessie’s concert?” She nodded, and I continued, “Was there a riot? Did you get hurt? Who did this to you?”

  “I did. I have no one to blame but me.” She told me what happened, wiping fresh tears as she spoke.

  “And you’re sure she was pointing at him? Did he have any band members nearby?”

  “He did, but if you could have seen the look on his face. Oh, Lucy, he looked guilty.”

  “And you jumped to the worst conclusion you could think of.” I shook my head. “Girl, you gonna break your neck, doing that shit. If I told you once, I told you a thousand times—“

  “I know. Presume nothing until you hear it from the horse’s mouth.” She stared at her hands. “But you also said if I waited too long, I’d lose him to another girl.”

  “It’s been how long, though? Two weeks? You can’t even break a bad habit in two weeks.” I cursed under my breath and asked, “Was she standing close to anyone? Anyone who might have been between her and Jessie?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I dunno…maybe the drummer…or the keyboardist. The speakers in that place were huge, so they were grouped pretty close together.”

  “Oh, good God almighty.” I grabbed my phone. “It’s like pulling teeth. What was her name? Julie what?”

  “Ryan, I think. Why?”

  “Duh, dingy. We know she’s on Facebook; you said she asked you to look her up. If she’s engaged to anyone, she’s gonna be shouting it from the rooftops. That her?” I shoved my phone in her face. Losing patience, I snatched it back and scrolled through the profile. “Blind ass. Yeah, this is her. There’s some pictures of her with the band…” I glared over the top of the screen at her, “All wrapped up in the scrawny arms of his pimple-faced keyboard player that she’s—and I quote—head over heels in love with and engaged to be married to. Don’t you feel like a bit of a dumbass, now?”

  “If you remember, I was still pretty shook up from my trip across the room over the heads of the crowd—not to mention nearly getting dropped and trampled, and coming close to being snatched bald. I was having a bad night.”

  “It’s called crowd surfing, and it’s a freaking blast,” I snapped.

  “Maybe if you choose to do it. I didn’t choose to. It was thrust upon me.”

  “Yeah, and if you hadn’t jumped to conclusions, that’s probably not all that would have been thrust upon you…or in you, as the case may be.”

  “I’m going home.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “What? You’re just going to give up now?”

  “I may as well. What else can I do, Lucy? I ran out of the building like the hounds of hell were on my heels, setting off an alarm, and hiding from security. Before that? Let’s see…yeah, I ran that night, too—as he rushed after me, trying to stop me. Hell, after our first and only night together, I sneaked out the next morning without even saying goodbye. I may as well face it—I don’t have the best track record with the guy.”

  “Yeah, he probably thinks you a psycho at this point—just kidding! Just kidding.” I patted her leg. “Let’s see when and where his next concert is, and we’ll decide from there.”

  “It’s in Ft Worth, at Famous Faces—but I’m not going. I got my three chances, and turned them into strikes. Three strikes and you’re out. I give up. I’m done. I’m not chasing after him anymore.”

  “Poor baby, you want to crash in my spare room for the rest of the night? Everything will look better in the morning.”

  “No. I’m heading home. Mom will want to bring James over in the morning. I should be there.”

  “If you need me—“ I offered. She forced a smile, nodded, and gave me a hug. I didn’t have to finish it. She knew. I’m here for her.

  After watching a tearful, sore, and devastated Callie slink home, I decided to act. I messaged Julie on Facebook, and she replied a few hours later. We talked and, in the end, she agreed to give Jessie my number. Before the month was out, it was decided that the band would play a surprise show at Bartholomew’s. All I had to do was get her there.

  I thought the whole thing was blown when we arrived and the parking lot looked like a mall a week before Christmas—packed. Bart’s tiny rundown bar is never packed. I limped it along, though, and got her to the back deck—where Jolene, of all people, tried to start something.

  “Shit, she actually showed up.” I rolled my eyes. Jolene was drunk and gunning for Callie. The conversation volleyed back and forth, and Bart had to intervene.

  “That escalated quickly.” Bart hurried across the wooden deck and stepped between us and her, “Someone has had a bit too much to drink already, tonight. George, would you please escort the delightful Jolene home for me?”

  “But, I don’t want to leave—the luau, the roast pig…the fireworks! I wanna stay! I’ll be good. I won’t say anything about—“

  George grabbed a roll from a bread basket on a nearby table and stuffed it between her lips before sweeping her up into his arms. “I’ll bring you a plate and somebody will take pictures of the fireworks for you,” he promised.

  “Wait…let her stay.” Callie surprised me by stepping up to bat for her. I was just about to open my mouth and say something about it when she rounded on me— ““Lucy? What was she talking about? Won’t say anything about what?” The questions pelted me, fast and furious, “Is there something you forgot to tell me? Like why I’m the guest of honor at a New Year’s Eve party at a bar I never go to? What’s going on? What all haven’t you told me?”

  I clenched my fists, so tempted to punch the drunk old bat for opening her pie hole, but the reason we were here steps forward…Jessie.

  “I think this is where I come in.” About time!

  Her head came up, she spun around, and if he hadn’t grabbed her she’d have hit the deck—ass first. “Jessie! What are you doing here?”

  “I was invited.” He lifted his chin and looked at me, “Lucy messaged Julie, explaining who she was, and asking her to give me her number.”

  She turned to me, tears shimmering in her pain filled eyes. “Lucy? You didn’t say anything to me about this. You didn’t think it was something you might possibly mention in passing…or drop into casual conversation? Oh hey, by the way—blah blah blah?”

  “You were in so much pain. I didn’t want to make it worse…but you needed answers.” I shifted from foot to foot, feeling like shit. “So I messaged her. I admit it, I did it. But, like I said before…you go to the horse if you want the answer.”

  “But, you didn’t—“

  I interrupted her, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if anything would come of it. I didn’t want to either get your hopes up or piss you off for nothing.“

  “I almost didn’t reply, either. I was just about to click delete, but then I saw a familiar name—yours.”

  We both looked up. “Julie!” Callie looked stunned, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast-approaching truck.

  “I was so surprised when you ran out of the concert like you did. I didn’t
know what to think.” She frowned, pissed or hurt…I couldn’t tell for sure. “Poor Jessie was so devastated, he barely finished the show—and that pissed off the guys, but I kept telling him there had to be an explanation. I don’t know you well, but you didn’t seem like a flake.” She lifted a slender shoulder, “So after Lucy and I chatted, I agreed to give him her number. I can’t believe you thought I’d go after your man, though.” Yep…definitely hurt.

  After apologizing, Callie turned to Jessie, “You and I do need to talk. There are things you need to know.”

  “I know.”

  I tried not to laugh. “No. You don’t know. You really don’t.”

  Then…

  “Congrats on the mini me,” Todd yelled out. Unfortunately, no one was there to stuff a roll in his mouth.

  “Oh, shit,” I groaned, laying my forehead on Callie’s shoulder, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

  But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. That would have been too easy.

  “Looks just like you, man,” Todd kept talking, making it worse, “I seen him in town a few times. Don’t need no paternity test on that one, do ya?”

  Jessie paled before our eyes and took off. He ran down the ramp as if chased by demons, ignoring Callie’s pleas for him to stop. I felt horrified.

  “Smooth move, Ex-Lax,” His drummer, Leo, materialized out of the crowd, balling his fists and narrowing his eyes at Callie, obviously fighting not to lash out physically. “Hate to burst your bubble, but—no, actually, I don’t. That was a lie. Please allow me the pleasure of bursting it. I don’t know what your game is, but Jessie can’t father kids. He’s sterile. Way to make him feel like shit, though. Greedy slut.”

  Hey! Jerk face! “Hey! Watch who you’re calling slut, asshole.” I got in his face, almost shoving her phone up his left nostril, doing my best to ignore how freaking hot he is…how good he smells. “Look at that kid—take a good long look, and then tell me Jessie can’t have kids. My friend is no slut. She was a virgin before that night with him, and she may as well have been since then, too. She hasn’t been with anyone else but him. Tell your friend to get his shit re-checked.”

  “He’s not my friend…well, not just my friend. Jessie’s my brother.” He stared at me, his eyes filled with pain, before turning to Callie. Visibly calmer, he asked, “That shit she said…you not being with anyone but him—that true?”

  Her cheek rubbed my shoulder as she nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”

  I could almost see the thoughts bouncing off the walls in his sexy blond head as he bit his lip, thinking hard. Finally coming to a decision, he nodded at me, “Put this number in her phone, send me a picture of the kid, and I’ll see what I can do.” He rattled off a ten-digit number. “Got it?”

  “Got it.” His phone number! I clamped down on the squealing fan inside me and shoved her into a closet, keeping my cool.

  He grinned, checking me out. “Send me your four one one, too, gorgeous. It’s your lucky day. I’m single.”

  I melted into a puddle of goo at his feet. Leo Sorducci was totally flirting with me!

  “Oh god.” Julie’s keyboardist was shaking. She was grinning, so I figured he must have been laughing, and I blushed, grateful for my darker skin tone which made it harder to detect.

  “What?” He glanced back at them. “I’m single…I don’t see no ring on this caramel cutie’s finger. If shit works out between my brother and Miss Callie, here…” He lifted both hands out to the sides and raised his shoulders, “You never know how things might go. Me and the luscious Lucy might click.”

  I squirmed, biting my lip as I imagined clicking with Leo.

  6

  *

  I tried to sidetrack Callie with tidbits of news from Julie, but I was soon distracted, myself. Out of the blue, one morning, my phone went off. The number seemed familiar, but just out of reach.

  What are you wearing?

  I stare at the words on the screen. Figuring maybe it’s a wrong number, I text back. Who is this?

  Tell me what you’re wearing, first.

  I scowl at the phone. A t-shirt.

  What’s on the t-shirt? Is it loose or tight? What are you wearing under it?

  Garfield, loose, nothing.

  Send a pic of the nothing?

  As I study the words, my phone goes off again. Another text. Feeling more annoyed than popular, I back out to check the ID of the new person. It’s Julie.

  Wanted to let you know, Leo swiped your digits from my contacts with a little help from Phillip.

  Leo. Of course—that’s why the number seemed so familiar. I snickered as I took a photo of a blank spot on the wall, returned to my mystery number, and hit send. Back over on Julie’s message, I send, No harm, no foul.

  You sure?

  Yeah. It’s cool.

  How’s Callie?

  Not good. Depressed.

  Damn. Jessie is, too. I wish they’d get their shit together.

  I know. Me, too.

  Leo texts again and I hop back over.

  What am I looking at?

  I grin. Nothing. That was what you asked for.

  I meant—never mind.

  You meant what…Leo?

  How—

  How did I know it was you?

  Yeah.

  Julie.

  How long?

  Not until after you asked for the picture.

  So…what would you have sent if she hadn’t told?

  Nothing.

  For real?

  Absolutely. I don’t send pussy pics to random strangers.

  Well…you know it’s me, now…

  No.

  But, Lucy…

  The only way you’ll see this pussy is if you’re close enough to lick it.

  Works for me. When? Where?

  Not gonna happen. I’m no one night groupie fling to notch your belt or your bed post.

  Never said you were. Have dinner with me.

  Where are you?

  Denver.

  Louisiana. No can do. Ain’t no cape on my back.

  Can you be at the Alexandria airport in less than two hours?

  Depends. Why?

  Plane leaves in two and a quarter hours. Ticket’s waiting.

  For real? What if I’d said no?

  You ain’t left yet?

  We ain’t fucking.

  Okay, never said we were. Tick tock baby.

  I don’t know what I was thinking, but six and a half hours later, my plane was touching down in Colorado. I texted him as I walked off the plane.

  Here.

  So I see.

  I looked up, and stumbled. People flowed around me like water around a boulder in a Louisiana creek bed, muttering and cursing, but I barely noticed. He stood a couple of yards away, legs spread, hands shoved in his front pockets. I stared. I studied the messy blond faux hawk. The full lips surrounded by a five o’clock shadow. The wife beater peeking out from under a beat up leather jacket. The thick thighs in tight jeans. My knees went weak. My heart pounded. I approached, slowly.

  “Hey, babe.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across mine. The crotch of my panties dampened from a rush of cream.

  “Hi.” I felt my face warm at the mousy timber of my voice. I don’t squeak…I don’t. I felt like I was floundering in the deep end, going under.

  “I, uh, set up your return flight for the morning after tomorrow.” He peeked at me, reminding me of James when he’d been naughty.

  I nodded. “I noticed.”

  “I wanted you to come to the show.”

  “I don’t have a ticket.”

  He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and whispered, “In case you didn’t know, I’m in the band.”

  “You don’t say?” I clutched my throat and gasped. “I had no idea!”

  “Ass.” He grinned. “Do you trust me to be a gentleman, or would you prefer your own room?”

  I shrugged, “I can crash on the couch in your room.”

  “Nah,
I’ll kick Jessie into Julie and Phillip’s room. You can crash on his bed. I’ll even ring housekeeping for fresh sheets and make the bed for you.”

  “Damn, I feel special.”

  He smiled, a slow, sweet curve of those kissable lips. “Good, cuz you are special.”

  “You sure Julie and Phillip won’t mind? Or Jessie?” I chewed my lip. “I don’t want to be a pest.”

  “You won’t be a pest. It’s an understood rule—if one of us has a babe in the room, the other one finds alternate arrangements.”

  “Sounds like you do this a lot.”

  “Nah, not really.” He ducked his head, a smirk fighting to fully materialize on his full lips.

  “Uh huh, look me in the eye and say that,” I scoffed. Picking up a magazine, I tagged him with it. “I wasn’t joking earlier—we ain’t fucking.”

  “Fine, we ain’t fucking, but…” He tucked his head into his jacket, peeking at me over the collar. “Can I at least kiss you?”

  My cheeks caught fire. “You already did.”

  “That wasn’t a kiss. I mean a real lip lock.”

  “Oh.” I nodded my head, “Yes.”

  “Can we make out?”

  An invisible band tightened around my chest as images inspired by his simple inquiry flickered through my mind, and I gasped for breath. My voice strangled, I said, “Maybe.”

  “Naked?”

  I glared. “Don’t push your luck, drummer boy.”

  Laughing loud enough to attract attention, he escorted me out to his rental car. At the hotel, we stopped by the front desk, where he requested clean sheets and extra towels, then headed up to his room.

  “Jessie!” he exclaimed as we tumbled through the door like puppies, tripping over each other and giggling, “Just the guy I wanted to see. I’m gonna have to respectfully ask you to bunk with Phillip and Julie tonight.”

  “I’m sure Julie will be thrilled.” He looked me over, a cursory flick of the eyes, then returned his attention to Leo.

  “Julie’s a doll. She’ll understand.”

  “Sure she won’t kill you?” My eyes bounced back and forth between them.

  “Good point.” Jessie stood and headed past us toward the door. “I’ll grab a room. She staying for the show?”