The Boy Next Door - Page 2

We hadn’t written any new material in ages because they couldn’t seem to hold it together for long enough for us to hammer out a chorus, or even to rehearse consistently. Either they were taking advantage of the free drinks that everyone bought them after a show, grinning and charming everyone in the vicinity, or else they were down in the dumps and drowning their sorrows in booze, wondering why we hadn’t made it yet.

It was killing me. If we were going to make it big-time, we were going to have to actually pull it together and work, and I was starting to worry that maybe the two of them didn’t have it in them.

I shook my head, trying not to dwell on it tonight. I was only going to depress myself when what I really wanted was to revel in the night that we’d had. I started grabbing our equipment, in part to give me something to do with my hands and in part because I didn’t want anyone to spill anything on it or get the bright idea that this was karaoke night and that they were welcome to bash on our gear.

I was just putting the last of the cases in the van when Trixie came up to me, grinning. “Hey, you,” she said. “Have you let anyone buy you a drink yet?”

I shrugged. “Nah,” I said simply. Trixie was one of our most notorious groupies, coming out to nearly every one of our shows and commenting all over our social media. While it was nice to have someone who was apparently so incredibly interested in everything that we did, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was in it for all the wrong reasons. Either she wanted to say that she’d been the one to “discover” us before we were big, or she just wanted to sleep with one or all of us.

I wasn’t sure which it was, but I wasn’t sure that I really cared.

The truth was, she was cute. Without a doubt. She had brown hair that had been cut short in the back, longer in the front, and styled messily. She had a kind of punk edge to her styling, but I’d never seen her in anything that wasn’t form-flattering and sexy at the same time.

She flirted with me after nearly every show, and it would be only too easy to bring her home with me, bang her senseless, and then send her off home. No strings and no expectations. The rock-and-roll lifestyle.

But I wasn’t feeling it tonight. Not that I ever really was. I rarely brought anyone home with me, no matter how many girls showed interest in me, no matter how cute or attractive they were. I was too busy trying to build the band and, I guess, show a good example to Mark and Carter.

Besides, I had a hard time sharing a bed with people; I never seemed to sleep that well. At the same time, I didn’t want to be the asshole who mandated that a girl leave immediately afterward. It just wasn’t worth the hassle to sleep with anyone.

So as Trixie grinned at me, I slowly shook my head. “Not tonight, Trixie. I’m sorry,” I said.

She looked disappointed but resigned. “Yeah, fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. She darted in to kiss me lightly on the cheek, though. “I’ll see you next time,” she said. As she walked away, she turned back to me, walking backward, somehow managing not to trip in her sky-high heels. “By the way, you were amazing tonight.”

I laughed. “Thanks,” I said honestly. She might follow our bands for all the wrong reasons, but at the end of the day, she had been a fan for a while now. Praise from her meant that I really had done a great job that night. That something had been different from last time, that we were getting better.

At least, I liked to think so, anyway.

I headed inside to gather up the rest of my bandmates, or at least say my goodbyes. I had a feeling that yet again, Mark and Carter were going to refuse to come home in the van. Sure enough, I was right. I was seething when I got back in the driver’s seat. Luke slipped silently into the passenger’s side, clearly sensing my mood, or maybe feeling the same way himself.

This was starting to get old. I couldn’t imagine the band as anything other than the four of us, but maybe it was time for a change.

Except that a change could kill the whole band’s momentum. Besides, I knew that part of why we drew the crowds that we did was because our singer and our guitarist were both good-looking and charming. We wouldn’t have the same sex appeal without them.

I didn’t know what to do, and as I lay in my bed a little while later, I couldn’t help but feel restless and dissatisfied, no matter how well the show had gone earlier in the night.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Erotic
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