Текст книги "Desperate Chances "

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.

Her text surprised the fuck out of me.

It’s like she had ESP or something.

I had only just been thinking about her. Not like it was that unusual, but it was worse than normal. Because I tried my damndest not to think about Gracie Cook at all.

There was no sense in focusing on a part of my life that had been way too painful and way too embarrassing.

There was nothing like handing your heart over to someone only to have them throw it on the ground and do a tap dance number on it.

Sure, I still wondered how she was doing. If she was healthy and happy. I wasn’t an asshole. I was a nice guy. Everyone knew that. That was my role in Generation Rejects.

Jordan was the tortured artist, Garrett was the laid back fun guy, and Cole was the asshole sex machine. And me, well I was the nice guy. The one that would comfort the girls after Cole kicked them out of his bed.

I was the friend.

A word that had never sounded so ugly until Gracie had thrown it in my face.

“You’re my friend, Mitch. I just don’t feel that way about you.”

So yeah, I made a point to block she who shall not be named from my mind.

Considering how much I had always loved her, I was bound to fail.

Plus there was Sophie now.

My girlfriend.

A woman who was the complete opposite of Gracie in every single way. She wasn’t complicated or emotional. Sophie didn’t fall apart and need me to rescue her. Sophie was calm and collected. She didn’t get worked up about anything.

Gracie was intense. Sophie was…placid. Which is what I needed after surviving Hurricane Gracie Cook.

And I cared about Sophie.

I really did.

Maybe I didn’t love her. Not yet anyway. But I’m sure I could in time.

It’s already been a year. How much time did I need?

Sometimes my inner voice needed a throat punch.

Because what wasn’t there to love about Sophie?

She was cute and sweet and patient. She had always been the kind of girl you could take home to your parents and not worry that she was going to drink all of the booze in your mom’s liquor cabinet. Sophie wasn’t a partier and I appreciated that about her.

There was no desperation with Sophie.

When I kissed her, it didn’t feel like I was falling off a cliff and had to brace for the impact. I never felt as though if I didn’t have her, I’d die. Nope. That kind of crazy wasn’t good for anyone.

Sophie wasn’t like Gracie and I had convinced myself that was a good thing.

My feelings for Gracie had never been rational. I would have walked barefooted over broken glass if she had asked me to. She wanted me to donate a kidney? Sure. No problem. Anything for Gracie-run-over-my-heart-Cook.

And that wasn’t healthy.

No, with Sophie things were quiet and easy. Like drinking a glass of warm milk.

Shit. Had I just compared my girlfriend to a glass of warm milk?

What I meant was she was comforting and low key. Like a blanket or—

Never mind.

I had known Sophie since we were teenagers.

Sophie made sense.

Gracie…

Well, she was a non-issue.

So why did just the mention of her knock the breath from my lungs and make me feel like dry heaving?

Because I was fucking pussy.

“I spoke to G the other day, she’s coming up with Viv and Maysie for the show on Saturday,” Garrett remarked off-handedly just as we were finishing sound check for this evening’s show.

We were currently touring with Tidal Wave, a lesser known band that was just starting out. It was a far cry from how things were just eight months before. Then we had been at the height of an almost sold out tour with indie rock darlings Cuban Cadillac. Our album was selling and things were going really well.

Then they weren’t anymore.

I didn’t know what had happened. None of us did. All we did know was that after the huge success of our debut album, the sales for our follow up were lukewarm at best.

Just when we thought we had made it, we realized pretty damn quickly that we were just another flash in the proverbial pan. Soon after our second album disappeared from the charts, Cuban Cadillac told us that we were being replaced with Total Distance, a clichéd pop rock group that had just hit big with a single called Highway Heartache.

We were dumped for a group of dudes with girl hair and sparkly jeans adored by thirteen year olds everywhere. Our pride took a serious hit.

Yeah, we still had our hardcore fans. The ones who followed us from show to show and bought everything we put out there, no matter how crappy it was. But the fly by night fans, the ones that had gone crazy for Perfect Regret and had bought thousands of copies of Current Static hadn’t exactly hung around for our next album.

And Cuban Cadillac, another struggling band trying to hold onto their fickle audience, hadn’t been interested in sticking around to help us ride the wave.

Tate at Pirate Records had been a little pissed when we had been kicked off the tour. We got the barrage of threats about our future. We were told that unless our sales increased they couldn’t justify keeping us on their roster of talent.

In other words, Generation Rejects’ days appeared to be numbered.

And we were all trying not to get depressed and pissed about it. We told ourselves over and over again that it was just the business. And in some ways I had been prepared for the down swing. My cousin Josh had warned me before we had gone on the road all those years ago. Josh had been working as a club promoter for years and had seen his fair share of bands rise and fall.

“Mitch, man, you need to grow some thick skin on your sack. There’s gonna be some crazy high times. You’re gonna have bitches throwing themselves at you. You’re gonna have people wanting your autograph. You’re gonna feel wanted.” My cousin had taken a drag off his cigarette and looked at me like I was about to go off to war and might not come back. He was so damn serious.

“But then one day you might find it’s all gone. And those same bitches will be clamoring for someone else’s dick. And they don’t want your autograph anymore. And that label that seemed so supportive and willing to help you get your name out? Yeah, they’ll kick your sorry ass to the curb without thinking twice.”

I had laughed and dismissed his words as unnecessary scare tactics. “Dude, we’ve got this. Stop stressing.”

Josh looked at me like I was an idiot. Which, I had admittedly been. “I hope you’ve got this. Because the ride is fun until it runs off the rails.”

Those were some majorly prophetic words.

Because it seemed that now we were just another band who had almost made it.

That sucked donkey balls.

But I had my band. My friends.

My music—even if no one cared about it but us.

And I had Sophie Lanier.

That’s all I needed.

Until Garrett had to mention her name.

“Wow, Gracie hasn’t been around in months. It’ll be good to see her,” Cole said, rolling up the mic cable and packing it away in the trunk.

I made sure to keep my eyes on my bass. I took my time putting it back in the case. I didn’t want to look at Garrett who I knew was looking at me as he spoke about the girl who had broken my fucking heart.

And I sure as shit didn’t want to look at my girlfriend sitting on the edge of the stage, watching the entire exchange way too closely.

Because she knew about Gracie and me. She knew everything.

I had hooked up with Sophie only two weeks after Gracie had run from my bed. One day I had been drinking whiskey since noon. I was a sloppy drunk. And that night I had been crying to whoever would listen about this woman who had crushed my heart. It wasn’t my finest hour.

I noticed a familiar woman sitting in the corner with a few people from my high school. She was sort of cute and best of all she looked nothing like Gracie.

So I had all but fallen off my barstool and stumbled to her table. I don’t remember a whole lot about our conversation, but I was pretty sure it involved garbled sounds that were meant to pass for words.

I did remember it taking a while for me to recognize Sophie and to recall how I knew her. In fact, she had to remind me that we had dated briefly in high school. I honestly couldn’t believe she wanted anything to do with me after that. I had been a bit of a dick.

Sophie drove me to Garrett’s where I lived when not on the road. No one had been home. Garrett was in Massachusetts visiting Riley, and Cole was with Vivian. Which had led me to think about Gracie.

And then the crying started. I was a blubbering wreck. And Sophie had sat on the couch with me and let me warble on and on about this other chick I had a hard-on for.

Yet somehow, we ended up having sex. Don’t expect me to explain how that had happened. One minute I was snotting all over her about Gracie and the next I had my cock inside her.

All I did know was that for those few moments it took to blow my load—and it didn’t take long unfortunately—thank you, whiskey dick—I wasn’t thinking about Gracie and my pathetic, broken heart.

I liked Sophie. I was attracted to her. And I definitely liked that I was able to get it up for someone that wasn’t Gracie. It made me feel like I wasn’t totally ruined.

But the next morning had been extremely awkward. I had mumbled apologies and Sophie had been obviously embarrassed by it all.

“I’m sorry. About last night,” I had told her, not really wanting to look her in the eye. I was a certified ass. I had totally rebounded on this very sweet, very attractive woman. She deserved better than that.

Sophie had taken my hand and given me a genuine smile. I liked her smile. It didn’t hide shit. It was open and honest. I could do with a lot more of that in my life.

“Don’t be. I’ve wanted to be with you for years,” she admitted shyly.

“Huh?” I had asked lamely.

Sophie had giggled and I pushed the hair out of her face. It was nice touching her. It wasn’t compulsive, like if I didn’t touch her I’d die, but it felt warm and comforting.

“I’ve always liked you, Mitch.”

I had felt like even more of a jerk.

“Look, Sophie, I’m not sure what you’re looking for from me, but I’m in love with someone else.” I had to be truthful with her. I wouldn’t lead her on. I knew how devastating that was and I wouldn’t do that to someone else.

“I sort of picked up on that,” she had said wryly. “I just know I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.”

And something about her words had hit me right in the gut.

I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.

One night.

That’s all I had had with Gracie.

I had wanted so much more than that.

But it hadn’t happened. And I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wallowing over a woman who didn’t want me. Life was too damn short.

So I had leaned over and kissed Sophie. There were no butterflies. No erratic heartbeat. No sweaty palms. I didn’t tremble when I touched her. I didn’t devour her mouth and want to consume her.

Sophie wasn’t Gracie.

And right then that’s exactly what I needed.

So Sophie and I had sex again. Which led to more sex. Which led into casual dating. Which led into something more serious. Maybe we moved a little fast after everything that had happened with she-who-shall-not-be-named.

I knew that my buddies didn’t entirely approve. Because of course they knew what happened. Once Cole figured it out he quickly shared the news with Garrett and Jordan. They gossiped more than a bunch of pre-teen girls.

“Dude, it’s not really fair to Sophie,” Jordan had lectured a week or so after I had started dating Sophie.

“She knows about…yeah, she knows okay. I’ve been upfront with her,” I argued, not wanting to talk about my fucking love life.

“What about Gracie?” he had asked.

“What about her?” I had demanded angrily. Just her name sent me into a tailspin. I didn’t want to hear about her. I didn’t want to talk about her. Honestly, I just wanted to try to live my life like she had never been in it.

“You love her. That’s what. So how the hell can you commit to Sophie when you love someone else? It’s not right, man.” I hadn’t been in the mood for Jordan’s tough love.

So I had lost it a little bit. I slammed my fist into the wall, bloodying my knuckles. I cradled my hand to my chest and glared at my friend. “Let’s not forget how you and Maysie started out, buddy,” I spat out.

Jordan had looked taken aback. “Yeah, I get that—”

My hand was throbbing and I had hoped I hadn’t broken something. That would not be good given we were in the middle of a tour. “You cheated on your girlfriend of three years with Maysie. You are the king of sordid relationships. So don’t stand there on your fucking soapbox and tell me how to handle things. I know what I’m doing. Sophie and I are on the same damn page. And G…” I trailed off. I couldn’t say her name. Shit. Maybe Jordan was right.

No! He wasn’t. I just needed to move on and Sophie wanted to help me do that. And I cared about Sophie. That was a good start.

Right?

“I like Sophie. We’re together. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it. So just keep your holier than thou opinions to yourself,” I had growled in his face before storming off.

I hadn’t broken my knuckle thankfully and after I had simmered down I felt like a fool for going off on Jordan like that. We both apologized later, but Gracie and our one-night stand was never mentioned again.

Sophie never brought her up either.

Gracie became the dirty word never uttered. Which made it hard when said dirty word was friends with all of my friends.

At first seeing Gracie had been like torture. Silent, horrible torture. Because on the outside I never let on that I was a miserable, fucking mess inside.

To everyone else I was just Mitch. Maybe a little colder than normal, but the same I had always been. But I made sure to never be alone with Gracie. I purposefully avoided eye contact. And I sure as shit never got close. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I could smell her. If I was close enough to see the mole on the side of her neck, I’d lose my damn mind.

But Sophie never left my side. She was my savior. She kept my mind off the person who had hurt me the most. I was lucky to have her.

She helped me move on.

And I had moved on.

Or so I thought.

But there were times when my newly erected armor had some serious chinks. And just hearing her name and knowing that I’d see her, left me with a feeling that I tried to suppress.

Gracie Cook made me feel out of control. She made me wild and crazy.

She was the drug I could never get enough of.

And going cold turkey had been the only way to survive her.

I realized I had balled my hands into fists and I forced them to relax.

“Yeah, she sounded pretty good. I was getting worried when we hadn’t seen her for so long,” Garrett was going on. My mouth went dry and I tried to swallow.

Why would they be worried about her? Had something happened?

It didn’t matter. Gracie had issues. A lot of them. I had tried to help her, to be there for her, and she had shit all over me.

But if something was going on with her—

It doesn’t matter!

She had Viv and Maysie. She had her parents.

Who treated her like crap. Remember how she cried in your arms as she told you about how cold and horrible they were. What if she was drinking again? Maybe she needs me…

I had to stop thinking about this stuff.

I slammed the top of my case down and quickly closed the clasps.

“I’m heading out,” I said a little too loudly as I got to my feet.

Garrett looked at me and nodded. I refused to meet his eyes. The fucker saw too much as it was.

“You ready to go?” I asked Sophie, who was still sitting quietly on the edge of the stage. She nodded and scrambled to her feet.

I picked up my bass and started to head off the stage.

“Are you guys going to be around before the show on Friday? We thought once the girls were in town we could all go out and get something to eat,” Cole said.

I gripped Sophie’s hand tightly. “I doubt we’ll be around,” I responded coolly.

I noticed the look that passed between Cole, Jordan, and Garrett. It was obvious I was a topic of discussion when I wasn’t around.

“Well, if you change your mind, let us know,” Jordan added.

I didn’t bother to respond as I all but dragged Sophie out of the venue.

“Whoa, Mitch. Slow down. My legs are half the length of yours,” Sophie laughed once we were outside.

I let go of her and shoved my hands in my pocket, feeling like an idiot. “Sorry. I was just feeling a little claustrophobic in there. It’s a small venue, isn’t it?”

Sophie frowned. “Yeah, it’s a lot smaller than some of the other places you’ve played. Are you sure—”

“You hungry? I could eat a horse,” I interjected.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Mitch?”

I shrugged and started walking towards a small diner at the end of the block. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just hungry and a little tired, I guess.”

Sophie sighed from beside me. “I had hoped that by now this wasn’t still going to be an issue,” she murmured under her breath.

I knew what she was referring to and I felt a rush of my old friend guilt.

“Soph—”

“Let’s get something to eat. Maybe you’ll feel better after that,” she said brightly. But it was fake. So fake.

Just like your entire relationship.

Wait a minute! Where did that come from?

I didn’t think that, did I?

I looked down at my girlfriend of over a year and the guilt became overwhelming.

I cared about Sophie.

But I didn’t love her.

No.

Maybe.

I wasn’t sure.

I only had my feelings for Gracie to compare it to. And there really wasn’t any comparison. But I wanted to love Sophie. It would be so much better than this giant lump of balled up bullshit in my gut that Gracie had left behind.

Fuck feelings. They sucked.

We remained quiet until we were seated in the restaurant.

“So Maysie and the other girls are coming up this weekend. That’ll be…fun,” Sophie hedged, looking at the menu.

Sophie really was pretty with curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders and nice brown eyes. She had a sweet innocence that was appealing. She was quiet and on the shy side and made me feel as though she needed protecting.

It seemed I had a thing for the girls I felt the need to take care of.

I had to stop thinking about Gracie.

It would only lead to all sorts of trouble.

Crap.

Now I was thinking about Gracie.

Her smile.

Her laugh.

The way she rolled her eyes at my lame attempts at jokes.

The cute little birthmark shaped like a heart on the inside of her thigh…

Stop it, fuck face! Look at your nice girlfriend!

Sophie looked nothing like Gracie.

Gracie.

Messed-up-but-I-couldn’t-get-enough-of-her Gracie.

Cue the minor heart attack and need to upchuck all over the table.

Sophie cleared her throat and pushed hair out of her eyes. I remember how much I liked her in high school. She had been the first girl I had ever gone on a date with. I had been a total dork back in the day. Talking to girls left me stuttering and unable to formulate sentences. And Soph had been the new girl who had taken pity on the socially inept dweeb who wore tube socks way past when it was acceptable to do so.

It hadn’t been a relationship by any means, only a few dates. She let me kiss her and touch her boob once and then it had fizzled out. No messy break-up or tears. We just sort of stopped hanging out.

The truth was that before she came back into my life, I hadn’t thought of Sophie Lanier in years. Not until the night we ran into each other at Barton’s.

“Sure,” I said, staring so hard at the menu I’d have the damn thing memorized.

“Is something wrong, Mitch? You’re really tense?”

I forced my shoulders to relax and I looked over at Sophie and gave her, what I hoped, was a sincere smile.

“Like I said, I’m just hungry. You know I can be a real diva until I up my calorie intake,” I teased.

Sophie’s face darkened. “Is this about Gracie?” she asked quietly. Too quietly.

I feigned surprise. “Gracie? What are you talking about?” God, I sounded like I had sucked down helium.

Sophie sighed and turned her attention back to the menu. “I’ll be glad when this tour is over. I think everyone is a little frayed around the edges,” she murmured. I was glad the topic of Gracie had been sidelined for the time being.

Crisis averted.

“Yeah, this tour has been pretty draining. It feels like no matter how much our shows rock, it just isn’t good enough anymore. At one time our music was the only thing that mattered. Now it’s all about ticket sales and single downloads.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t honestly think being a rock star was a long-term career goal, did you?” Sophie laughed and I looked at her in surprise, shocked and a little hurt by her dismissal.

“No, we didn’t think that, but it’s something we’ve always loved doing. And how many people can say they make money doing something they’re passionate about?” I threw back, feeling myself get defensive.

Sophie shrugged, looking back at the menu. “Well you’re not exactly making a whole lot of money anymore, are you?”

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you,” I snapped.

What the fuck was this?

Sophie laughed again and shook her head. “Don’t get so bent, Mitch. It’s just an observation. You’ve got to be sick of being on the road all the time. Maybe you should think of something else to do with your life since pretending to be The Rolling Stones isn’t really working out.”

“If being on the road sucks so much, you could always go home. I’m not keeping you here,” I told her.

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.