“God,” she drawls in the most condescending tone ever. “You are new at this, aren’t you?”
“Have you dated other musicians?”
“A few. They’re all the same. Big kids with big egos.”
“And big dicks!” Andrew yells.
“He misses nothing, huh?” I say quietly to Pamela.
“That’s an understatement.”
Except for the excessive licking, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of love between the two of them. Although, every once in a while, Andrew will stop playing, yell, “Hey baby,” and blow a kiss her way. She reaches up to catch every single one.
It’s sweet in a totally strange way.
The guys launch into a classic rock song, each of them interpreting it in their own unique style, culminating in a cacophony loud enough to rattle the windows.
“Who’s your agent?” Pamela shouts.
“Marilyn Stewart.”
“Oh, she’s good from what I hear.”
“So far.”
“I started with Plume Talent, but they’re mostly modeling gigs, and I think I want to focus on acting.”
“Have you been on a lot of auditions?”
“Not really. I’ve been taking acting classes with Vera Walters, though, trying to prepare myself. Where do you study?”
When I first arrived in Hollywood, acting lessons were suggested, but since I landed parts right away, I sort of skipped it. Now that I’ve been to more serious auditions, maybe it’s time to buckle down. Feeling foolish and unprofessional, I admit, “I haven’t found a class yet.”
“Oh, you should come with me! You have to audition to get into her classes, but Vera’s great. You’ll love her.”
Somehow, whether I want to or not, I feel like Pamela and I will be spending a lot of time together in the near future.
Chaser
Mallory’s half-asleep when we finally wind down.
“Yo, I got plenty of room.” Andrew points to the stairs. “Guest room, first door on the left is all yours if you want to stay.” He turns his sticks toward Jacob, Garrett, and Alvin. “You wanna ride my couches, that’s cool. Got plenty of ‘em.”
“That okay?” I whisper to Mallory.
“Sure.” She yawns.
I wrap my arm around her, pulling her tight to my side as we say goodnight to everyone.
Upstairs, I close and lock the bedroom door behind us. “Sure you’re okay with this?”
Without answering, she pokes around the room, searching behind the television and mirror.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
“Andrew strikes me as the kind of guy who would have hidden cameras set up,” she whispers.
“Can’t disagree with you on that one,” I whisper back.
She chuckles softly and unbuttons her jeans.
“Let me do that.”
“I’m leaving everything else on,” she warns.
Once we’re settled under the covers, she cuddles up and rests her head on my chest. “Did you have fun?”
“Fun?” How do I answer her question? Andrew’s a big personality. Jamming with a band I admire was pretty damn cool, though. “It was an experience. My mind’s a little blown.”
The bedroom door bursts open, bouncing off the wall with a sharp bang.
Mallory and I shoot straight up.
Andrew grins at us. “Are ya fuckin’?”
I’m too stunned to answer or yell for him to get out. Shocked from the intrusion and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but what appears to be a black leather thong. The material seems to be having trouble containing him. Why is everyone flashing their crotch tonight? Pamela’s pussy earlier had been one thing. But I’m in no way interested in getting an eyeful of Andrew Lane’s log and berries.
“What the fuck, man?” I bite out.
“Oh.” Andrew grins. “Door doesn’t lock.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall. “Sooo, why aren’t ya fuckin’?”
“Because we knew a crazy person was going to bust in on us?” Mallory must sense I’m about ready to answer with my fists.
“Ha!” Andrew claps his hands and points at me. “You two are totally rad. Night!”
“What the fuuuuck was that?” I groan and stare at the door. “Maybe we should go home.”
Mallory eyes the door. “He might follow us.”
Neither of us settle back down right away. I keep my eyes trained on the door, concerned it will burst open any second, and this time, Andrew will be naked.
A shriek echoes down the hallway. Loud moans and steady banging follow.
“Should we barge in on them?” Mallory shakes with laughter. “Maybe critique their skills?”
“No. They’d probably enjoy that.”
“Party time!” someone yells.
My body tenses, waiting for another intrusion, but the footsteps pound away from our door.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Come here.” I pull Mallory closer and bury my face against her hair.
The chaos continues into the early morning hours.
I don’t remember signing up for the circus; yet, here we are.
The bits of sleep I manage to capture fall in between moments of questioning the whole night.
I can’t decide if meeting Andrew and Vinnie is the beginning of something great for the band.
Or the end of everything.
Chapter Fourteen
Mallory
“You didn’t get the part.”
One thing my agent is known for is her directness.