Not being ugly . . . it helped us and that was just the way it was.
“If anyone is the Adonis of the group,” May said. “It’s me.”
Myself, and the other two, agreed wholeheartedly which made Toni widen her eyes.
“May is the band’s frontman when it comes to women?”
I grinned. “He calls me the main man but that title really belongs to him.”
“No way,” Toni shook her head. “I’ve seen how some women take to you, Risk Keller. You’re . . . mouth-watering.”
I kept eye contact with Toni as she spoke; I wondered how far she was willing to go with this conversation. She was eye fucking me. Thoroughly eye fucking me.
“Everyone expects me to be fucking every minute of every day,” I shook my head. “It’s not true . . . unfortunately.”
Everyone snorted.
“But you’ve had your fair share of, eh hem, pus-say.”
I rubbed my neck at Brian’s pretty blunt question.
“Yeah, but what rocker hasn’t? You know the saying. Sex, drugs and rock and roll. You can’t have one without the others. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
Everyone laughed at the jab to my own past, the crew more than my bandmates.
“You guys have been at this a long time . . . probably having sex longer, right?”
Only on Rock Stop would a person be asked when they had their cherry popped.
“Fifteen for me,” Hayes said, then May and Angel said, “Sixteen.”
I sighed. “I was freshly eighteen.”
“Liar,” Toni smirked at me. “I’ve seen pictures of you when you were eighteen, no way were you a virgin.”
“I’m telling the truth,” I assured her. “I was in a relationship back then so I waited until my girl was ready. It’s simple really.”
“I heard you mention a mysterious girlfriend a time or two in an interview.” Toni raised a brow. “Would she be the original Sinner?”
“Yup.”
I felt May look at me and I wondered if I’d revealed too much. I had always been selective when I spoke about Frankie, always making sure she was kept private, but something about the way Toni asked her question rubbed me the wrong way. Her tone was a little condescending. Like Frankie making me wait to have sex until she was ready was a lame thing to do. That irritated me.
Angel jumped in and casually turned the conversation back to our upcoming album and world tour next year. We answered some fan questions, Hayes spoke a little about his wife, Summer, and how she was adjusting to being married to a famous rock star. I zoned out a little. I kept thinking of the song we had begun on the journey here and that made me think of Frankie.
I can’t get enough of your green eyes, your soft skin, your sweet smile.
Those were the lyrics I had written on my notepad last night. It was obvious it was going to be another song about Frankie but this one felt like it was going to be different. In every other song another her was connected to the loss of love, or living without something. Even our upbeat belters had her in them. This song . . . I wanted this to be about how I felt over the past nine years, but also about how I felt now, having her back in my life.
I really wanted to write the bloody thing.
I was glad that half an hour later the interview ended and we said goodbye to everyone watching the live stream. We had just removed our headphones and stood to hug Toni and shake Brian’s hand when Toni leaned up and into my ear she whispered, “How about I show you a lovely empty room down the hallway?”
I hadn’t had sex since before I went to rehab; when I got off drugs and alcohol, I binned sex too. I didn’t even consider Toni’s offer, which told me I was still well and truly on the wagon, but also because Frankie’s face popped into my head.
“Sorry, Toni,” I politely kissed her cheek. “Rain check, yeah? I have to get back to Southwold, I have a song I need to write.”
She pouted up at me but nodded. When we left the building and got back into the rental, the guys turned and looked at me. I froze under their watchful gazes. I lifted my hands to my face, paranoid I had dirt on my skin or something. Or that I’d done something wrong.
“What?” I questioned. “I didn’t do anything.”
I hated that that was my go-to response even after all of these years of being free of the Days. It was a defensive stance I always took and had yet to shake off.
“Toni wanted to fuck you,” May blinked. “You shot her down.”
“Why?” Angel quizzed. “Why not fuck her? You’re in a dry spell.”
A self-imposed dry spell.
“I know why,” Hayes grinned. “It has to do with a little redhead in Southwold, am I right? The one who you’re just friends with?”