Were we having a fight?
We never fought.
Sophie was quiet and agreeable most of the time, so I didn’t know where all this shit was coming from. Had she always felt like this?
The realization that she didn’t have any faith in my music was a shock even though she had never taken much of an interest in the band. I just assumed it wasn’t her type of music, which was fair enough. I still thought she respected what we were doing and what we had accomplished.
Sophie had been on the road with us for the past month. I had been a little surprised when she had mentioned wanting to come along for the last leg of our east coast tour, but I had been happy to have her along. Maysie was always with Jordan and Riley and Viv spent a lot of time with Garrett and Cole so it would be nice to have someone there for me.
But Sophie had never really gelled with the rest of the group. I knew she felt it. I felt it. The guys probably felt it too. So maybe that’s where all this was coming from.
“Why are you getting so mad?” Sophie asked, looking confused.
“I’m not mad,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Are you two ready to order?” the waitress asked, appearing out of nowhere. I was glad for the interruption though. Because my sweet, unassuming girlfriend had majorly pissed me off.
When we were finished giving our orders Sophie put the menu back and looked at me. “Do you want me to go home?” she asked sharply.
“I didn’t say that,” I muttered.
Why was I getting so annoyed with her?
Sophie was safe.
Sophie was constant.
She didn’t have issues or demons.
Sophie wasn’t complicated.
And I needed that right now.
“You didn’t order me anything? There goes your hand job later.” Cole body checked me as he slid into the booth beside me.
Sophie gave him a tense smile. “Hi, Cole.”
“Hey, Tits McGee,” he greeted, using a nickname he had given her after walking in on her in the bathroom as she was getting out of the shower.
“I’ll give her one thing, she’s got a nice rack,” Cole had said with a leer, closing the door as she screamed.
No matter how many times I tried to get him to stop using it, the nickname had stuck. I had a feeling Cole continued to use it because he knew how much it annoyed me and Sophie. He was a dick like that.
“Please don’t call me that,” Sophie huffed. Cole of course ignored her.
“Move over, Tits. Jordan and Garrett will be here in a sec. They’re in the head.” Sophie looked slightly murderous, but she moved over.
“Why do you eat this shit?” Cole complained as the waitress brought my and Sophie’s food. He picked up my veggie burger and made a face.
“Because I like the thought of not having a heart attack when I’m forty,” I replied.
“You’re so not rock and roll, dude. It’s amazing that you get any tang,” Cole said.
Sophie tensed even further and I knew that Cole’s antics made her uncomfortable. She had never gotten used to it.
Jordan and Garrett joined us a few minutes later. Garrett sat beside Sophie and Jordan pulled up a chair at the end of the table. Garrett gave Sophie a smile, which she returned but neither said anything to each other.
I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time Sophie had a conversation with any of my friends. She was always there, by my side, but she never attempted to join in any way. She always declined when Garrett asked if she wanted to play the X-box. She continuously turned down Maysie’s invitations to go to the store to pick up supplies for the bus.
“So I just got off the phone with Neal. He’s coming back tomorrow to talk to us about our options,” Jordan said, grabbing a menu.
Neal Thomas was our new manager. The guys in Cuban Cadillac had recommended him to us. He was known for being a straight shooter. And we needed someone with a low level of bullshit after the Jose Suarez fiasco. Our former manager had been one of the best in the business. He had made his reputation on catapulting bands into superstardom. He had also almost convinced Cole to ditch us and go out on his own and start a solo career. Jose had been a snake and in the end Cole had fired him. We hired Neal shortly after that and we had been convinced that we’d prove Jose wrong when he said we’d never go anywhere.
Things had been good. Really good. We were on our way to the big times. We were selling out venues. Our album was kicking ass. Our single was all over the radio.
We were making real, honest to god money. We were being touted as the next big thing in hard rock.
We had been a bunch of starry-eyed idiots.
We were now learning that the quicker you rose, the faster you fell.
“Options, huh? That sounds bleak,” Cole grumbled before stuffing his face with fries.
“Yeah, well we need to figure something out. Pirate isn’t happy,” Garrett added, crossing his arms on the table.
“None of us are,” I muttered under my breath.
Nobody said anything because I was right. Music had stopped being fun and was now more of a chore. I felt it every time I plugged in my bass. I felt it with every chord and every lyric. It wasn’t the same thrill we had felt back when we were just a bunch of guys jamming at Garrett’s house.
And that sucked.
Because even though I had just been angry with Sophie’s suggestion that I start thinking of doing something else, she was probably right. And that pissed me off even more. I had been holding onto this dream for so long I wasn’t sure what do when I finally had to let it go.
Great. Now I was depressed.
“Hey, do you remember that first gig at Barton’s? Jordan broke one of his sticks and Cole almost fell off the stage,” Garrett said suddenly.
I laughed. “Well he was too busy trying to look down that chick’s shirt.” I patted a smirking Cole’s shoulder.
“She had a nice rack. Not as nice as Tits McGee here, but decent enough,” he remarked, smirking at Sophie who turned three shades of red.
“Dude, seriously,” I warned.
“You need to learn to ignore him like the rest of us do,” Garrett told Sophie.
She pinched her lips together and did not look amused. I gave her foot a kick under the table and she gave me a tight smile.
“Don’t say that shit in front of Viv, she’ll put your nut sack in a vise,” Jordan warned.
“Hey, what we do for fun is our business,” Cole said and I had to laugh. Even if Sophie didn’t seem to find any of it funny.
“I just remember Mitch knocking over my five hundred dollar amp and blowing a tube,” Garrett griped.
“Shit. Yeah. I forgot about that. It was your Marshall too. The one you saved all of senior year for,” I grimaced.
“I think I still owe you an ass kicking for that one,” Garrett remarked but I knew he was only kidding.
“It was one the best damn shows we ever had though. Minus the broken drum sticks and thrashed amp,” Jordan interjected.
“Yeah it was,” Cole agreed.
“Jordan wrote Fuck Me that night,” I pointed out, remembering how he had randomly started knocking out a beat and singing some crazy ass lyrics that went on to become a crowd favorite.
Cole slapped his hand down on the table. “That’s right! I never knew where you got the idea for that song. It couldn’t have been from that chick you were dating at the time. She seemed to be the lie-on-your-back-and-think-of-the-Queen kind of screw.”
Jordan scowled but didn’t rise to the bait.
Garrett started to hum and I joined him. Jordan started to tap in rhythm on the table. Finally Cole started to sing the lyrics we all knew by heart.
Desire drips off your tongue
Legs tangled and abused
Smoldering in the aftermath
Bodies tired and used.
Your eyes hold a secret
That you’ll never tell,
The fire inside consumes me
I will embrace your hell.”
I never sang. That wasn’t my role in our group. Even though Garrett and Jordan sometimes sang lead vocals I had always been content to stay in the background. I didn’t need the limelight. I didn’t crave the fame. I had always been happy to play my music and do my thing.
So I surprised everyone by singing the chorus to our song.
Touch me,
Tease me,
Need me,
Hate me…”
“Damn Mitch, I always forget you can sing,” Jordan remarked with a grin.
I ran my hand over my mouth a little embarrassed. “Yeah, well just because I don’t flaunt it like the rest of you divas doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“With all the girls here this weekend we should battle it out with some serious karaoke. Just like old times,” Jordan suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds cool. As long as Cole remembers to keep it in his pants this time,” I said.
“With my girl here, I can’t promise anything. Karaoke makes her hot,” Cole smirked.
“Reading the newspaper makes her hot,” Garrett muttered.
“Hey. I’m not the only one that gets all revved up in the trousers during karaoke. Remember the time Mitch and Gracie sang that duet? I thought you were going to go at it right there on the stage. You two were all smoldering sexual tension. Viv and I had to go bang one out in the bathroom we were so turned on,” Cole snickered.
“Man, you never know when to shut up,” Garrett deadpanned.
My good mood was instantly gone. I looked over at Sophie and could see she wasn’t amused.
“Babe—” I began but stopped because she was already on her feet.
“I’ll see you on the bus,” Sophie said quietly and with a barely there smile to the rest of the guys, she left.
“What crawled up her ass?” Cole asked.
“Dude, did you have to bring her up? In front of Sophie? You know that shit’s not cool!” I snapped.
Cole frowned. “I don’t get it. You’ve been with Sophie for what? A year? Why is my bringing up some old shit with Gracie a problem?”
I looked to Garrett and Jordan for help but neither of them said anything. Assholes.
“Because—”
“Because you boned her? So what. That was a long time ago.” Cole looked genuinely perplexed.
I swallowed thickly. “Yeah. It was.”
Sometimes it felt like another life.
My normally oblivious band mate was watching me way too closely. I didn’t like it.
“All right then. So don’t give me shit about something that shouldn’t matter,” Cole countered and I couldn’t say anything.
It shouldn’t matter.
Sophie was my girlfriend.
Gracie doesn’t matter.
“I gotta go call Viv. She gets pissy if I don’t help her out in the evenings, if you know what I mean,” Cole leered, getting out of the booth. “Order me something with a lot of bacon.” He headed back to the bathroom.
“Let’s hope no one walks in on him rubbing one out this time,” Jordan said, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” I agreed off handedly, not caring about Cole having phone sex with Vivian in a public restroom.
I pushed my way out of the booth. “I’ve gotta go,” I told them, dropping some cash on the table and getting the hell out of there, not caring that Jordan and Garrett were staring at me like I had lost my damn mind. Which right now wasn’t a far off possibility.
I should have gone back to the bus to talk to Sophie. To make her feel better. Cole’s sordid trip down memory lane had to make her feel like shit.
But I didn’t go after her.
It shouldn’t matter.
Gracie shouldn’t matter.
But she did.
And that was a really big problem.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and stared at the screen hardly able to believe it.
I hadn’t heard from her in over a year.
It felt like some kind of sign.
I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.
Chunky Monkey.
I was going to be sick.
I walked around the side of the diner and leaned against the wall. My back collided with brick and I slid down to the ground.
Chunky Monkey.
Our code word that she needed me.
I griped the phone in my hand until hand ached.
My instinct was to call her. To run, head first, into whatever she was offering.
I’ve moved on.
She’s not a part of my life anymore.
My head rolled back and I stared up at the clear, night sky.
“Are you sure it’s okay that I stay here,” she asked, walking into my bedroom with an overnight bag in her hand.
My stomach clenched as I watched her unpack her things. Putting her toothbrush in my bathroom. Her pajamas in my dresser drawer. Her things looked as though they belonged all mixed up with mine. Like she belonged.
And she did.
I just wished she could see that.
But I was a patient guy. I would bide my time. And I knew that the day would come when she’d realize how much I loved her.
“Of course. You can stay as long as you want. Who knows how long Cole and Viv will be at it,” I laughed, hoping she’d never leave.
Gracie sank down on the couch beside me and picked up the extra X-Box controller. We were sitting so close together that I could smell her shampoo. Something fruity. It smelled good. Her leg was pressed up against mine and I waited for her to pull away like she always did.
But she didn’t.
“You’re going down, Abrams,” she teased, giving me her sexy half smile.
God, I loved this woman.
“Not if I take you down first,” I told her and she laughed.
It was my favorite sound in the world.
She had been my best friend.
Gracie knew things about me that I had never told anyone. That I would never tell anyone.
And losing that hurt just as much now as it had when she had pushed me away.
I missed her.
So goddamned much.
I missed my friend. The girl I had played video games with and teamed up with for karaoke. I missed how she always made sure there was a full pint of Chunky Monkey in my freezer when I got home from being on the road.
I missed just being able to pick up the phone to talk to her about stuff that didn’t really matter. Or watching Fresh Prince and singing along to that stupid rap during the opening credits.
And for just a second I could over look all the bad shit that came at the end.
Because when it came to Gracie Cook, I had always been a weak bastard.
So I texted her back.
Do I need to ride to your rescue?
My palms started to sweat again as I hit send and once the message went through I wished I could take it back.
What the hell was I doing?
Why had I responded?
Why the fuck was I opening that door again?
I had Sophie. I had a life that had nothing to do with Gracie.
But in that moment all I could think about was her and how much I wanted that connection that we used to have.
So I waited outside in the freezing cold, my ass growing numb as I sat on the hard ground, just to see if she’d text me back.
I waited an hour.
My phone remained silent.
She had left me hanging.
Again.
“Mmm,” I moaned, my eyes closed.
Mitch was between my thighs and I felt him press into me. I felt so full. I could feel him everywhere.
“I love you so much, Gracie,” he murmured, running his hand down the side of my leg. He pumped his hips and I rose up to meet his thrusts.
He hooked my leg around his waist, angling my body so he could bury himself deeper inside me.
“Harder,” I told him. I wanted him to be rough. I wan
ted him to take me in a way that left no doubts. I had to know he’d never let me go again.
“Look at me, baby. Please,” he begged. The waves of pleasure pulsed through me. I had never felt anything like it.
“Mitch,” I breathed, my fingers working overtime as my fantasy kicked into high gear.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew that if I did¸ this would all be over so I ignored him. I wouldn’t listen.
I just wanted to keep loving him like this.
Mitch gripped my hips in his large hands as he slid in and out of me. I wanted this feeling that only he could give me.
How could I have possibly walked away from this?
I felt his lips on the side of my neck. I could smell him. I could taste him in my mouth.
And more importantly I could feel him inside of me. I wished he would stay there forever.
“I love you, Gracie. God, I love you so much.” He sounded as though he were crying. I wanted to look at him, but I didn’t dare.
It was on the tip of my tongue. I should say the words back. It’s what he wanted to hear.
Instead I focused on the pleasure. On the sex. On the way he caressed every inch of me.
“You hurt me, Gracie. I can’t forgive you for that.” The fantasy was getting all messed up. Real memories mixed with delusions.
“Oh god, Mitch!” I screamed just as I had an orgasm to end all orgasms.
“You broke my heart!” Mitch yelled just as I came apart.
“Wow! And you give me shit for touching myself in the living room? I have to bathe in here too, you know!”
My eyes popped open and quickly moved my hand from between my legs, which were dangled over the edge of the claw footed tub.
I sat up in the now cold water feeling overheated and very turned on.
Vivian was standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, looking entirely too amused. “I—uh—must have dozed off.” I pulled the plug from the bath and stood up, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around myself.
“Yeah, that must have been some dream you were having,” she snickered.
I glared at my friend and shoed her away with my hand. “Can you give me a little privacy here, please?” I demanded, embarrassed as hell that she found me…well…pleasuring myself.
Desperate Chances Page 7
