“Ooh,” they both say, showing signs of relief.
“Anyway, she has the power to destroy me and keep me clean at the same time.”
Carson sighs. “I know what you mean. My girl, the one I dated in high school, she made everything right in my world. When she bailed, I fucking fell apart. It’s been just casual sex since then, and sometimes not even on the regular.”
I find that hard to believe about Carson. Women fucking flock to him and kiss the ground he walks on.
“If she means that much to you, look her ass up. Show her what she’s missing,” I say as I get up to grab us some bottled water from the mini-fridge behind the bar. “People change when they get away from their parents.”
“Nah, I think she’s married and all that happy shit. I’m content with my music and the group here. We’re going to be busy, and the groupies will keep me entertained.”
Once again I’m shaking my head as I hand them each a bottle of water. “You don’t want to mess with those groupies. They could be married, and you don’t want to be that guy. Or they might be underage. And if you’re not double-wrapping your dick, they’ll end up pregnant.”
Brayden and Carson are laughing by the time I finish my diatribe. I realize how I must have sounded, and I start laughing too. “I’m sorry,” I chuckle, setting my bottle down. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t worry,” Carson says. “I’m not going anywhere near a groupie.”
“But seriously, if you’re looking for love or pussy, you won’t have a problem finding either one.”
“Are you saying I’m
good-looking, Bodhi?” Carson winks as Brayden and I laugh.
“Yeah, man, if I swung that way, we’d be getting it on.” I wink back. “Your ex-girlfriend, though, she doesn’t know what she’s missing. I say we write a song about her and send it to her.”
“Excellent idea,” Bray adds.
Carson doesn’t say anything, but the smile on his face tells me that he’s thinking about the idea.
We sit and talk about everything: rehab, chicks, and our music. I let it spill that Kimberly gave me a guitar and tried to teach me a few chords. Carson especially likes this and promises to spend some time teaching me how to play.
Rebel reappears with a few of the musicians who play with us. She’s barking orders, and her assistant is tagging along behind her, taking notes.
“I wonder if this is a mistake,” I mutter.
“You mean having rehearsals here?” Brayden asks.
“I mean jumping right back in. My doctor spoke a lot about triggers and staying away from what pushes you over the edge.” Standing, I move toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and gaze out at the pool. “Maybe I should leave the group.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Brayden shouts, clearly taken aback.
“You’re fucking nuts,” Carson adds.
When I turn around, both guys are standing with their hands on their hips. Their expressions tell me that I’m in deep shit for even thinking of such a thing.
“We’re in this together, Bodhi. If you go, Virtuous Paradox doesn’t exist. I’m not going to let you fall back into the drugs. I’ll do what I can to help keep you on the straight and narrow.”
Carson’s words bring tears to my eyes. I pull him into a hug.
Before long Bray starts clearing his throat loudly. “Fucker, I need a hug too,” he whines.
I flip him off, and in response he tackles me to the ground.
“Can’t hug you when you’re choking me,” I grunt. He stands and offers me his hand to help me up. Then the three of us sort of stand there looking at each other, an awkward-as-fuck silence surrounding us.
“Seriously, though, Bodhi, this shit you went through, it could’ve been any one of us. Maybe we ought to try a clean path for a while?” Brayden suggests. “With Maggie around, I should be setting a better example anyway.”
I slouch back down into the chair. “You guys gotta do what’s right for you.” I picture Kimberly sitting in my oversize chair reading a book, maybe twirling her long hair around her finger, as I read sheet music and jot down some ideas. “Having Kimberly around is a real motivator. She makes me want to be better. You guys too, of course. But it’s different when she looks at me. She sees me, not the guy on the stage.”