Текст книги "Memphis Black"

Автор книги: M. J. Fields

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“I need clothes,” I say after far too much uncomfortable silence.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” he asks.

“What do you want me to say?” I look down. I feel like garbage. My head is pounding, my stomach hurts, and now there are butterflies dancing inside of it.

“Does she know?”

I shake my head.

“Why not?” he asks.

“You were drunk. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Right.” He laughs. “Is your bag in the guest room?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“I’ll grab it. Feel free to brush your teeth. You already used my toothbrush last night.”

I hear him walk out the door, and I quickly walk to the bathroom and then shut and lock the door, as if that matters. I take off the sweatshirt and jump in the shower, washing as fast as I can while still in my bathing suit in case he comes in. I condition my crazy hair and then quickly rinse.

After I get out, I throw my hair up in a towel and see the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door; it reads, HIS. But right now, it’s mine.

My head is still pounding, but my stomach—whenever he’s not around—doesn’t feel so off.

I walk out as he walks in.

He smirks. “Ten minutes,” he warns. “I’ll leave you to it. Hurry up, okay?” With that, he starts to walk out.

“Memphis?”

He looks back at me.

“Thank you.”

He gives me a sly, little grin. “Now you owe me.”

The past two days have been insane, totally insane. I have spent two nights sleeping in the bed of a boy I had a crush on growing up, who happens to also be my first kiss and a rock star, for goodness sakes. If I didn’t know better, I would certainly allow my mind to entertain the little fairytale buzzing around inside it, maybe even serve it tea.

I am dressed, and my hair is wet, yet tamed with product. I brush my teeth with my own toothbrush, and as I am flossing, he walks in.

“Tales, come on; you can do that shit later.” He snaps his fingers. “Queenie is arriving soon, and I sure as hell don’t want to be late. I’ll catch hell.”

I throw the floss away and reach in my bag. “Memphis?”

“Tales?”

“Do you know where my phone is?”

He shakes his head. “Where did you have it last?”

“Probably my pocket? I don’t know.”

His eyes widen, and he cringes. “Clothes are gone to the laundry.”

“Someone is washing my clothes?”

“And mine. Can you imagine what they must be doing in that washing machine?”

I completely ignore his sexual innuendo. “Did you check the pockets before you put them in?”

“I don’t do laundry.” He looks at his phone. “Time, Tales. Let’s roll, or we’ll be late.” He hurries out the door, and I follow behind. “I’ll send a text; we’ll find it.”

Once outside, he hits the key fob and unlocks the doors to a black Escalade. Then he opens the passenger door.

“Chop, chop, sweet cheeks.”

I feel a blush rising on my face as I climb in, and I’m pretty sure he groans behind me before shutting the door.

He hops in the driver’s seat, then moves the seat back. “Haven’t driven in a while”—he laughs—“so buckle up.”

“How long?” I ask, and he merely chuckles.

“Been on the road for a year, so I’d say a year. Might get a little hairy out there.” He reaches out and messes up my hair.

He has always poked fun at my hair. Apparently, he still does. How stupid am I for thinking he was attracted to me? His sexual innuendoes were nothing except a joke, or maybe he just wanted to have sex, which he obviously gets a lot of.

“You’re quiet. Felling shitty?”

I smirk and shake my head.

“Tales, you really need to get over the giggles when someone curses.” He pulls out and starts down the brick driveway. “Tell me about school, about your father. How is your mom?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I want to know what I’ve missed.”

“Tell me about being on the road for a year.”

He stops in front of the gate and looks at me as we wait for it to open. “I really am sorry about your dad, Tales.”

“Thanks.”

“He’s in a better place, right?” he asks sincerely.

I nod. “Yes, he’s where he’d want to be.”

“Your mom? Church family taking care of her?”

“She’s okay. She misses Dad, but she has a new place, and—”

“A new place? She isn’t in the house?” he asks in shock.

“It belongs to the church.”

“Probably easier being away from the house, though, right?” he asks, pulling out onto the road, where he guns it. “Memories and shit?” I grab the handle above the passenger window, and he snickers. “You know what that’s called, Tales?”

“What?”

“The handle. It’s the oh-shit handle.”

“You drive like a maniac.” I grab the one on the dash while he weaves into traffic at a speed I am sure is higher than it should be.

“I drive how I bang, Tales. I get you from start to screaming orgasm in record time.”

“That must be why they don’t stick around.” I am terrified of the way he drives. “Memphis Black, slow down!”

He laughs. “They don’t want to leave, Tales; trust me. Never had a complaint, just requests for an encore.”

He hits the gas, and I see the airport sign.

“Left lane, Memphis”

“Shit.” He guns it again. “You keep fucking me up with all the sex talk, Tales, and we’ll either be in the back of an ambulance or in the backseat.”

“I’d like to get to the airport without either detour, thank you.”

“Damn, sweet cheeks is cracking funnies,” he says.

Once settled into the proper lane, he reaches up and turns on the radio.

“Love this song.”

I look at the radio, seeing “I Followed Fires” by Matthew and the Atlas scrolling across the display.

He begins strumming on the steering wheel, and his head starts bobbing slightly. He gets that look of intensity on his face, exactly like when we were younger, and starts to sing along.

“There’s a devil at your door, and he grows, he grows. So I’ve been told he had a heart of gold …”

He continues singing as I lean back in the seat and take in the smooth sound of his voice, watching his incredibly handsome face as he sings a story, his facial expression—heck, he puts everything into it. He feels every word, and watching him, you do the same. He is truly an artist, always has been.

The song ends and the next begins.

He laughs. “Want some chocolate, Tales?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

In the blink of an eye, he starts singing this crazy song about chocolate. He sings it to me, smiling and bobbing his head. He grabs my hand and holds it up like a microphone and starts singing into it. I can’t help laughing, which he does, too, but doesn’t miss a beat.

The dash reads “Chocolate” by The 1975.

The way he is looking at me is best described as sinful because it makes me think of his mouth and his perfectly shaped lips. His hair is a mess, his T-shirt fits him like a glove, and his shorts are white. I have no idea why I am checking him out in such detail, but I am. When I realize it, I look up, our eyes meet, and his lip curls up at the corner.

“I’d give my left nut to know what the hell you were just thinking.” His voice is thick and raspy.

“I was thinking you’re going to miss the turn,” I say, pulling my hand away and grabbing those handles.

He crosses over two lanes to the sound of horns from angry drivers, and he is laughing.

“You’re going to kill us!” I screech.

“Fuck that. They have breaks, and I had plenty of time, sweet cheeks.”

“Have you always been such an awful driver?” I ask in anger as I hold my hand over my chest, thinking any moment my heart is going to beat out of it.

“I drive just fine. And would you look at the time. Damn near perfect.”

He pulls up in front of Virgin Air and smiles as he grabs his phone. “Mads is at baggage claim now.” He taps a reply on his screen, then tosses it on the dash before reaching in the back and grabbing something. He turns around and shows me the sign.

“The Mad Queen’s Ride. You think she’ll like it?”

“You know she will.” I laugh.

“Yeah, I do. As much of a pain in the ass as she is, I’ve kind of missed her, Tales.” He hits his hazard lights and opens his door. He quickly walks around the vehicle and opens my door.

“Come on. I think she’ll be happier to see you than me.”

I get out and start for the door, but he grabs my elbow.

“No way, Tales. You’re gonna stand here with me and look like an idiot holding the other half of this sign.”

“Shouldn’t we go in?”

“Nah. I can’t be that easy. She’ll think I actually like her.” He winks. “Gotta play hard to get, you know.”

The way he looks at me makes me think he’s talking about me. The way he’s still staring at me makes me realize I’m right.

His thumb is running slowly back and forth on the side of my elbow.

“Memphis?”

“Tales?”

“You’re holding my arm.”

“Shit.” He lets go. “Sorry, sweet cheeks.”

I turn around when I hear his name behind me and see three girls whispering.

He grabs me with one arm around my waist and pulls me against his side.

“What are you—?”

“Are you Memphis Black from STD?” a blonde with a very short shirt and huge breasts asks.

“What gave it away?” he asks in a very flirtatious manner.

“The hair,” a brunette swoons.

“The ink,” the blonde purrs.

“The total package,” the other girl with ambrosia hair says, blatantly staring at his crotch.

“Can we give you our number?” one asks.

“I am dying for an STD,” the brunette who ends everything in a purr says.

“Gave her one two months ago,” he says, pulling me tighter. “In about seven more months, she’ll be giving birth to it, so I will have to pass this time, ladies.”

I look up at him, ready to let him have it, but he pushes my head so my face is buried in his chest.

“Well,” one huffs as the others … congratulate us.

I try to pull away, but he holds the back of my head tighter.

“She’s shy,” he excuses.

I dig my nails into his chest, and he lets go, but only after a few more seconds.

“What the heck did you just do?”

“What the hell did you just do?” He lifts his shirt to see red marks where I dug into him. “Damn.” He smirks. “You need to kiss it better.”

“Memphis, you just told them I was—”

“So?” He shrugs.

“Well, not only is it a lie, but it’s possible it will start a rumor, and my mother …” I cover my face. “Dear God, Memphis, my mother will stroke out. And you, you idiot, you just messed up the whole”—I wave my hand in the air, and somehow it ends up pointing at his, lower half—“rock star, man-whore thing.”

“First, you can call your mother and tell her I did it to push three chicks away who wanted in my pants, and they were not my type, Tales.”

“I thought everyone was your type,” I huff.

“No, Tales, not everyone.” He looks at me.

“Right. I get it. Fine. But you just screwed that up. Every kinky-haired, thrift store queen is gonna think they have a shot with Memphis Black and—”

“She’s coming. Do you think you could chill the fuck out for a minute?” He laughs.

“No. No, I don’t,” I say honestly.

“Tally, Memphis! Eek, hugs!” Madison runs up and hugs us both. “Tales, you’re too damn skinny. What the hell happened to the freshman fifteen?”

I feel tears filling my eyes. I have missed her so much. She is and always has been what balances me.

I sniff back the tears, and she pulls back and looks at me.

“Don’t you do that, okay? We cried too damn much last time I saw you.”

I feel my lips tremble and I hug her more tightly.

“Aw, Tales.”

“Just missed you,” I whisper.

“I missed you, too.”

I pull back and plaster a smile on my face, and she wipes the tears off my cheeks as two women approach Memphis.

“Aren’t you the lead singer from—?”

“Not right now,” he says in a gruff voice, and I look up at him. His eyes are locked on me. “Come on, Mads. Let’s get sweet cheeks something to eat. I think she’s probably hungry.”

“But you’re Memphis Black, right?” the girls ask as he opens the door to the Escalade.

“Right now, he’s a brother and a friend,” Madison says as she hops in the back seat and pulls me in behind her.

“And apparently, Queenie’s driver.” He shuts the door and grabs her bag.

“Talk to me,” Madison says as she buckles up, then grabs my hand.

“Just, just …” I don’t even want to have this conversation.

“Just what, Tally? You can tell me anything, you know that.” Her eyes are like his; brilliant blue and inviting.

The door opens and Memphis gets in, turns around, and holds up the sign. “Did you even notice this?”

“Nice.” Madison flashes him a smile, then turns back to me. “Spill it.”

I expect Memphis to start up the vehicle, but he doesn’t. When I look up, his eyes are slightly crinkled, and he looks to be trying to figure something out.

“Tales got shit-faced last night.”

“You did not!” Madison gasps.

“Fireball. By the fucking glass. One after another.” Memphis winks at me.

“You’re shitting me,” Madison says, and I smirk.

“I wouldn’t shit you, Mads. You’re my favorite turd.”

“Shut up and tell me everything.” Madison grins and looks at me.

I shake my head. “Wasn’t really my best day.”

“Fucking whiskey? You chose to get drunk the first time on whiskey, Tales?” She laughs. “How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly, not as bad as I should,” I answer.

“That’s because she fucking ralphed all over me.” Memphis smirks at me through the rearview mirror.

“No way,” she gasps.

“Yes way. And more than once.”

“How did that happen?”

“She turned green, and I snatched her up before she tossed it all over in front of the band and some friends. She’d have never lived that shit down.”

“Did you feel better after? I always do,” Madison says.

“She got hosed down in the bath tub and passed out.” Memphis snickers as he pulls out onto the road.

“No way. Who …?” She pauses. “Did you hose her down?”

“Hell yes, I did, right after I hosed myself down. She smelled awful.”

“Aw, my brother can be a gentleman.”

“A perfect gentleman.”

I sit back and listen to the two of them talk back and forth. I have always loved watching how they interact. They may have driven each other crazy growing up, but they love each other immensely.

Then I realize how differently he is driving.

I shake my head and look up. He is staring at me in the rearview. He looks forward and grabs his sunglasses off the dash and puts them on as he cautiously drives us back to the house.

Once Mads and Tally are in the house and settled in their room, I call and order brunch. I’m starving. Everyone is still asleep, but I know, once they smell steak and eggs, they’ll come running like the dogs they are.

While I wait for the food, I decide to take a shower since I didn’t get to it this morning; my bed was too damn comfortable. Mmm-mmm.

What the hell am I going to do about this little obsession with POW!? I need to tap that ass, but she’s—well, she’s fucking Tales.

I kick off my slides, pull my tee shirt over my head, and shed my shorts.

I look down and shake my head, looking at my cock. “You need to take a fucking break right now, anyway. Tour time, you’ll be well fed and exercised. You won’t be frowning forever.”

Freshly showered and feeling like a million bucks, I hop out and towel off before dressing.

When I walk into the kitchen, the food is spread out on the island, and no one is eating. I grab a piece of bacon and shove it in my mouth before grabbing a croissant and heading down the hall to tell Ta … Mads that it’s time to eat.

The door is cracked, and I hear Mads chewing off Tally’s ear.

“No fucking way,” she gasps, and I can picture Tally’s face turning pink. “The senior? Tall, dark, and smoking hot?”

“Handsome, talented, and kind,” Tales corrects her.

“Throw a ball cap and some ink on his arms, and he’d be hot as hell, just sayin’,” Mads says.

“He isn’t that kind of—”

“Fine. I get it. So tell me; how was it?” Mads interrupts.

I’m leaning in closer to hear because I want to know, too.

“It was sex, Madison,” she whispers.

“Like hot, sweaty, all night long, ass smacking—”

“Dear God, Madison! No, of course not. Gross.”

“No, not gross at all.”

I’m ready to bust in and demand a name, an address, and all that shit from Madison.

“I don’t want to hear about you and what’s-his-name.”

“Well, sometimes it’s what’s-his-name and sometimes it’s what’s-his-name.” Madison laughs.

I grip the door jamb and hold myself back from kicking the door open and demanding to know all that information when I feel a tap on my shoulder and jump back.

Finn is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a shit-ass grin on his face, shaking his head.

“What?” I whisper in a hiss.

“Don’t do it, man.”

“Do what?”

“Go in there, ready to be the white knight for little sis when you wanna go dark knight all over her friend.”

I glare at him, and he shakes his head, steps around me, and raps on the door.

“Chow time.”

I storm down the hall, and he follows. Annoyed, I look over my shoulder at Finn chuckling.

“Laugh it up, asshole,” I snap, which makes him laugh louder. “Why don’t you…?”

“Don’t I, what?” He laughs.

“Go shave your fucking beard or something,” I snap as I grab a plate.

“Fuck that. Ladies love it.” He smirks as he strokes it.

“Especially those whose beaver curtains are bare,” River comes in and says with a wink.

“How the fuck do you know?” I snap at him.

He sticks his tongue out slowly, then pulls it back in. “Most rode tongue in the state.”

“If you read the Internet gossip pages, that would be my brother. Lead singer with the tongue made for her pl—”

“You clearly mean the drummer,” River says with a perma-grin on his face.

River’s high. I know it, Finn knows it, and Billy … Yeah, he doesn’t know it. I laugh to myself.

I’ve dabbled in some heavier stuff. When we first started playing together, River and I got fucked up a couple times, but a couple times of doing a line or two wasn’t enough for him. No, fucker would go on a binge, and then he’d crash. As a result, I only take a couple hits of chillz once in a while when I am feeling froggy, like yesterday. I didn’t want to put that temptation in his face again.

Finn doesn’t touch shit. He smokes cigs, drinks like a fish when he’s in a mood, but he hates drugs. I knew there was a story behind it the day I had to pull him off River. He spilled it about someone OD’ing and told River he was a selfish fuck. When I asked him later if he wanted to talk, he simply said no.

Billy walks in. “Good morning.”

We all say it back, and as we load our plates, I see him and Tally exchange a look that pisses me the fuck off. Mads notices the exchange, too, and she elbows Tally and giggles. Tally looks at her with a clueless confusion, and I can’t help smirking. Tally sees me, shrugs, and continues placing bird-sized portions on her plate. She is clearly uncomfortable, and it pisses me off.

“Tales, you have got to eat more than that, girl.”

Billy smiles at her. “She ate well last night.”

She ate well last night, I mock him in my head.

“Then she threw up. Eat, Tales.”

“Memphis.” Madison looks at me like I’m crazy. “She’s a grown woman. I think she can handle herself.”

“Yeah, you’re both all sorts of grown up now, aren’t you?” I sneer, then walk to the door with a full plate. I decide to eat outside because I already want to kick Billy’s ass, lock up Mads, and tie up Tally and show her a thing or twenty about sex.

I sit at the outdoor high top where the sun is already blazing. There is a breeze that feels really good, but even as beautiful as this place is, nothing is distracting enough to un-hear your kid sister talking about banging his or his.

“What’s your problem?”

I look up to see Mads walking out and shutting the door behind her.

“How’s school?” I can’t help the irritation in my voice.

“Great.”

“Learning a lot?”

“Why the inquisition?”

“Why avoiding the question, Mads?”

“Okay, I love it. I get up and finish my classes by one in the afternoon. Most of the time, I am done with my homework by four or five, and then I hang out with friends.”

“What kind of friends?”

Tally walks out now, sets her plate on the table, and pulls her shades down.

Mads and I stare at each other. She’s clearly pissed, and so am I. Neither of us says a word.

“Should I go?” Tally thumbs behind her toward the door.

Mads says no, I say yes, and Tales sits, looking down.

“Don’t be a dick, Memphis,” Madison snaps at me.

“Or what? You’ll tell Mom?” I snap back

In true Madison form, she dramatically shoves her chair back and storms back into the house.

“Why are you fighting with her?” Tally asks in an even tone that kind of infuriates me.

“I heard you two. She’s banging all sorts of boys at school and …” I stop when Tally starts to smirk. “I said bang, not fuck, Tales. Jesus, keep it together.”

“It wasn’t the word, Memphis.” She scowls. “I’m kind of used to them by now. It was the fact that you’re judging her, yet live the life you do.”

“Me, judging?” I gasp. “This coming from the preacher’s daughter.”

Her mouth forms a straight line.

“I didn’t mean it to hurt you, Tales.”

“Well, just so you know, I don’t judge. There is a huge difference between being religious and being a Christian.” She’s pissed, but so am I.

“So what would Jesus say about you fornicating in the dorms, Tales?”

She pushes back and stands. “That’s none of your business. Who are you to judge me or her?”

“Wait just a damn minute. I’m not judging—”

“It’s okay for you to sleep with everything with two legs and boobs?” She blushes immediately.

“You just wait a minute, Tales. I’m a little bit pickier than two legs and tits—”

“I find that questionable when you’ve been trying to get me in bed.”

“Tales, I don’t try. I do. Don’t kid yourself. If I wanted to fuck you, I would. Then your little dorm indiscretion that, I assume, left a bad taste in your mouth would be like fucking crack, and you’d be all but dry humping my—”

Without warning, she slaps me across the face, and hard, too. Then she runs into the house.

Angry is not a strong enough word to describe what the hell I’m feeling right now. I storm toward the house and see the guys looking out the window. They saw everything.

Embarrassed? I probably should be, but I’m not.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Finn asks, and he’s not laughing, either.

I don’t answer. I go to my room and grab a duffel bag.

“I asked you a fucking question, man. Don’t disrespect.” Finn’s voice is low and angry.

“Tell them motherfuckers, if they touch Mads or Tally, I will quit this fucking band.” I throw a change of clothes in my bag and walk past him.

His voice booms behind me. “Where are you going?”

“To the fucking woodshed,” is all I say.

He steps back and gives me a nod. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

“Two days, tops,” I answer.

“Work it out, bro. I’ve got this covered.”

***

I crawl out of the bed and look down at the chick from the hotel bar. She’s hot, blonde, tall, has big titties, and a nice ass. I worked it out, all right, for three hours, and she took it like a champ. I will definitely be giving her a VIP pass if we tour down here.

I look at my phone lying on the floor next to my shorts. It has fifteen missed calls and ten text messages, all from Madison.

I shoot her one back.

Mads, I will see you in a day or two. Stay put and enjoy.

Her reply is immediate.

Where is the woodshed?

I laugh to myself and shake my head as I type.

Ask Finn. See you soon. Airplane mode commencing.

I sit, and I write.

I look down at the paper, pretty content with myself. I haven’t worked something like this out in a year. Finn is the man behind the lyrics lately when it used to be my thing. Today, it all comes back.

I feel hands resting on my shoulders.

“How did you do?” she asks in the raspy tone I have admired for a few years now.

“Inspiration at its finest.”

“I see that.”

I look up and see she is looking at my notepad.

“No way, babe. This is mine.” I flip it over.

“And every time I hear it on the radio, I’ll think about what happened next.”

“Oh, yeah, not before?” I ask, pushing back in the wheeled chair and turning it so I am eye level to her jugs.

“I’ve seen you live in concert, Memphis. I know how well you perform, but your encore … Nothing beats that.”

“You ready to be rocked my way?”

“Rock me any way you want.”

And I did.

She didn’t stay over. I didn’t ask.

***

I spend the entire next day writing in the hotel room.

Two songs in two days.

X-man asked for five. I knew Finn had two, so that meant only one more.

When I walk into the house, Madison glares at me.

“That’s a nice welcome back,” I say with an eye roll.

“Tally is leaving,” she yells.

“When?” I ask, trying to ignore the anger boiling inside of me.

“In a couple hours, and she told me everything.”

“Madison, don’t.”

I look up to see Tally walking toward us.

“Memphis, did you ever find my phone?”

“Shit, Tales.” I run my hand through my hair. “Give me a second. I’ll—”

I stop when she nods and then heads to my room, seeing the laundry basket of clean clothes sitting on my bed. I only brought one change of clothes when I left, and I need a change, so I pull my shirt off, then grab a white tank out of the basket of folded clothes and throw it on.

I dig through the clothes and find her phone. “Fuck.”

“You found it?” I hear her behind me and spin around.

“Yeah.” I feel anxious. “Look, Tales, we’ll get you a new one if this one is shit now. And please don’t leave. Mads will be … well, mad, and I feel like shit about—” I stop when I see her eyes widen, and her mouth make a little O. “Who is your phone provider? I’ll call right after I call and have your flight changed back. You can’t leave, Tales. Come on.”

“I can’t stay,” she says in a more hostile tone than I expected.

“Please, Tales. I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t get to say sorry, Memphis. I slapped you. I got drunk. I let you”—the way she says you is like a kick to the nuts, the disdain nearly taking my breath away—“make me sleep in that bed.” She points at said bed and then stops.

I see tears pool in her eyes, and the pain in my chest is worse than the one that felt like a kick.

“I need to leave.”

“No. No, you don’t. I won’t say a word. I won’t do a damn thing. I want you two to have fun.” I go to reach out to grab her hands, and she jumps back. “Tales, come on; it’s me. I promise. My word is good, okay?”

She turns to walk away.

“Tales, tell me you’ll stay.”

“Tell me you’ll leave me the hell alone,” she retorts as she walks out.

“Thank you,” I call behind her.

When the door shuts, I about bust up laughing. She said hell.

I walk in the bathroom and grab my toothbrush, the one Tales used. I squirt some paste on it and look in the mirror.

“Da fuck!” I say as I see the fucking hickies and scratch marks all over my neck. “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”