I looked down at the plastic toy.
“This is too big for me to caress.”
“I’ve heard those words often,” May winked. “Just start with the tip, everything else comes easy after that.”
“May!” My face burned. “I’ll hurl this guitar at your head. Don’t embarrass me!”
Laughter filled the room once more and I considered using the guitar as an object to bludgeon May to death with. He was getting entirely too much joy from my red face.
“How’s this?” I followed his instruction and mirrored the way he held his guitar. “Do I look like a rock chick now?”
“There’s not a scrap of black eyeliner on your face or a stitch of black clothing on that curvy body of yours so nope.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Not every girl Sinner looks like a princess of darkness,” I told him. “Some of us are Plain Janes, thank you very much.”
“There isn’t a plain thing about you, gorgeous.”
I looked over my shoulder to Risk. He was sitting on the sofa with Hayes and Angel. He held his phone up, pointing it in mine and May’s direction but his eyes were lowered to my behind and when they lifted to mine, he grinned when he saw he had been caught checking me out. I had known for a long time that Risk was an arse man, it was lucky for me, really. I had a fat bum, but my breasts were non-existent. The curse of a pear-shaped body meant I was a head member of the itty bitty titty committee.
“Behave.”
“Hell no, Cherry.”
I looked at May and cocked my eyebrow.
“Ready to play, May boy?”
“Always, Frankie girl.”
We positioned ourselves and just before I hit start I said, “Your arse is mine, Acton.”
The song began and because it was on expert level, every single chord appeared on screen in time to the original song. No mistakes were allowed. You had to strum at the right time, hit the right chord and hold it for the correct amount of seconds before moving on. Expert level was all about precision, May obviously didn’t bank on that. I hit fifteen perfect notes in a row, he only hit nine. I got a lot of greats and so did he, but he got a couple of misses as well which reflected in our scores that were in the top left and right corners of the screen.
I glanced at May and grinned, he was struggling. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were unblinking as he gave the game his complete and utter focus.
“Stop looking at me!” he shouted. “You’re distracting me on purpose.”
“I’m just adoring May Acton in action . . . sort of. You kind of suck if I’m being honest.”
The guys behind us barked with laughter. May told them all to suck his dick.
“Boy, she’s whooping you,” Hayes chortled. “This is the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Try the sexiest,” Risk’s voice rasped. “Christ, this is so fucking hot.”
“Shut up, Risk!” I barked at the same time May said, “Mate, shut up!”
When the song wound to an end a couple of minutes later, it was obvious that I was the clear victor. When the results showed on screen, May glared at them like they were all that was evil in the world. I got an A and he got a C. For a beginner on expert, that was a bloody insane score . . . but for a famous musician who lived and breathed his guitar, this was like pouring salt on an open wound. I knew it and so did everyone else. I tried not to gloat . . . too much.
“Guitar God isn’t for the faint of heart.” I reached up and patted him on the shoulder. “Anyone could lose. Don’t take it so hard, honey.”
May cast a look of unchecked fury in my direction. “I helped write the fucking song, Frankie.”
“Well, in that case . . . you’re rubbish.”
May gripped his guitar so hard the plastic creaked under the sudden strain of pressure. He looked me up and down. Slowly. His eyes were calculating and I found myself willing to pay a lot of money just to know what the hell was going on inside of his head.
“I’ve killed men for less than that, Fulton.”
I grinned. “You have?”
“In my head I have!” he hissed as he righted his plastic guitar. “Rematch. Now, hobbit.”
I shrugged and turned my head back towards the screen with a grin.
“It’s your funeral, June bug.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FRANKIE
“For as long as I live, I’m never gonna let him forget that.” Risk was still laughing when we entered my cottage two hours later. “You whooped him four times in a row. He was so mad he smashed the plastic fucking guitar on the ground. Hayes had to stop him from picking you up and throwing you out of the fucking house. I couldn’t even move I was laughing so much. Angel was crying!”