“Do you feel uncomfortable right now?”
“You know who I am,” I said. “And I know what was said to you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. You try anything… or I say anything… you lose the deal of a lifetime.”
Nash nodded. “And that’s who you are? A little princess looking to live off the old man’s cash?”
“Never,” I said. “I’m on my own, Nash. I do everything on my own.”
“Except this job,” he said. “You’re using me to get what you want.”
“How does it feel?”
“Not sure yet, babe,” he said. “I’m just getting started.”
“Well, I’m about finished already.”
“I’ll buy us some time,” he said.
I watched as his hand reached for the emergency stop button.
There was no way in hell I was going to get stuck in an elevator with Nash from Filthy Line.
I dove forward and grabbed his wrist.
I was touching him.
The baddest rock star on the planet.
My mouth went dry.
My heart pounded in my chest.
His fingertips wiggled against the button.
But he didn’t press it.
The elevator came to its stomach bouncing stop and the doors opened.
It was chaos outside the elevators.
People must have found out about the band being back at SLECK RECORDS.
The lobby was filled with screaming fans.
Security guards stood there, holding the doors open, reaching for Nash.
He faced me again, inches away, and lifted his sunglasses.
His eyes were like amber. The kind that made promises but broke your heart all in the same breath.
“You’re not getting away that easily, babe,” he whispered.
“You can’t touch me,” I said.
Nash laughed.
He put the sunglasses back on his face and kissed the air.
He walked backwards into the sea of fans desperate to touch him.
The elevator doors shut and I completely forgot that I was supposed to get off on the ground floor too.
As the elevator started to move up, I reached for the railing again.
I could spin any story on Nash and get through this bullshit to get what I wanted.
And the same went for me.
I could spin anything I felt into something else.
I was untouchable.
Which meant I was the one in control.
Fuck. Nash.
5
NASH
I heard the song playing from the bluetooth speaker, grabbed it off the table and threw it into the pool.
“Hey!” a woman yelled as she jumped up from her chair.
Her tits almost smacked her in the face because her bikini top was so skimpy.
“We don’t listen to that shit here,” I said to her.
“Bro, what did you do?” Jay asked.
He pulled at my arm as the woman stood there, ready to take me on.
I ripped the sunglasses off my face. “Don’t ever play that shit again. Got it?”
“I didn’t do anything…”
“You want to guzzle on their cum, go for it. But not here.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Fuck, bro, look at me,” Jay ordered.
“What?” I asked him.
“What was it?”
“You know what it was,” I said.
“It’s streaming. She can’t control what plays.”
“It was halfway through the song,” I said. “That cheap fucking solo bullshit.”
“Let it go, Nash,” Jay said. “Go get a drink.”
I walked away, all eyes on me.
Jay went to console the woman while I walked from the pool to the pool house. There wasn’t a single luxury Jay skipped when it came to flaunting everything he had earned through great riffs, big solos, and a wild party attitude.
Sab sat on the bar, strumming a guitar.
Reed and Dex were in chairs, each with a guitar.
“What happened out there?” Sab asked.
“Fucking junk music came on,” I said.
“Ah,” Dex said. “Fuck that.”
“Don’t worry about Jay,” Reed said. “He’s just looking to take that one inside for a little bit.”
“More plastic than woman there,” I said.
“Since when do we care about that?” Dex asked.
It was a valid point.
I turned and put my elbows on the bar.
I stared at the wall of booze and wondered where to start.
It was our last day and night to party before getting back on the road.
We had a few city obligations to take care of as well.
Then we’d be back here to hit the studio for a recording session. Some new material to get done and stuff to send to SLECK RECORDS. They wanted to hear our sound and start putting together a plan.
Fuck their plans though.
This wasn’t about plans.
This was about writing music that mattered and playing it for those who understood what it meant.
“You sure you’re good, bro?” Sab asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Need a drink.”
Sab patted my back. “Now you’re talking. What’s your poison?”
Olivia.
“Just give me a fucking bottle and I’ll be fine.”
Sab jumped over the bar and knew just what I liked. He tossed the bottle over his head and I snagged it out of the air.
“Still got it,” he said with a sly grin.
He was the tour bartender, always mixing new drinks or serving up old ones. Knowing just what everyone wanted and how to make it perfectly. In another life he would have made one hell of a bartender. But instead he went from small town drummer boy to a crazy rock star.
“Come on, let’s play this one out,” Dex said. “We have something going here. Let Nash hear it.”
I jumped up on the bar and took the cap off the bottle then flicked it away.
No way in hell I was putting the cap back on the whiskey bottle. That would have been a fucking crime.
The guys started playing a new song.
It was pretty good. It was the way we always wrote songs. Someone would play a riff to the others and they’d start piecing it together. I’d dig through some old lyrics or ideas or just let something new hit me. We’d work through a few versions of the song before taking it to one of our home studios just to get some tracks laid.
As they played, I shut my eyes and put my head back.
The whiskey was smooth and the only thing that could taste better… was more of it.
Before they finished the song, I slid off the bar and walked back to the pool.
It was mandatory topless time, which was always a staple of a Filthy Line gathering.
My eyes scanned the water and I saw a beautiful dark-haired woman pop her head up from the water. She moved in slow motion as though she were in some commercial or a porno. She blinked water off her mile long eyelashes and reached for the side of the pool. As she pushed up, she showed off a bathing suit that was more string than an actual bathing suit.
She got out of the water and walked toward me, leaving a trail of footsteps and drips from her hair behind her. Her hips danced as much as her eyes did.
She reached for the whiskey bottle and I eased my hand away.