***
Ben Nicholson, Stage Dive’s bull-necked bass player arrived, blowing my mind just a bit more. He and Mal started pouring shots. I stuck to my mostly full beer. Holding it gave my hands something to do. What followed was pretty much everything I’d ever expected from a rock star party. Well, there weren’t really drugs or groupies so much. But plenty of pretty people getting drunk and lots of noise. It was a bit like the college parties Lizzy talked me into attending now and then. Only instead of cheap beer in red Solo cups, they passed around bottles of C?ROC and Patrón. Most everyone’s clothes were top-of-the-line designer goodies and we were sitting in a million-dollar condo instead of some crappy student apartment.
So, actually, it was nothing like the parties I went to with Lizzy. Forget I said that.
Lauren, Ev, and I had danced and chatted earlier. It’d been fun. For certain, Lauren had done me a favor dragging me out tonight. I’d had a hell of a lot better time than I ever would have sitting at home all by my lonesome. Mal had gone off with David and Ben to another room for a while. Not that I’d been keeping an eye out for him.
For a while I’d hung out in the kitchen, talking to a sound technician by the name of Dean. Apparently he worked with someone called Tyler, who’d been with the band for forever and was basically a family friend. Dean was nice, intelligent, with cool black hair and a piercing through his lip. Yes, he was sort of hot. He asked me back to his hotel room, and it was tempting. But all of my current stresses were running on a loop in the back of my mind. It would basically take a Sex God to make me unwind right now.
I bid Dean good night at the kitchen door.
Then Mal and the guys returned and the music got turned way up again. As inevitably happened, everyone had started pairing up. David and Ev disappeared. No one commented. Lauren sat on Nate’s lap in the corner of the couch, their hands all over each other. I stifled a yawn. It’d been a blast, but it was nearing three in the morning. I was running out of steam. We’d probably be leaving soon.
I hoped we’d be leaving soon. In a few hours I had to rise and shine. The shining part might be problematic with the way Mal’s words were beating around inside my brain. Overly trusting and broke? Yes. Doormat, my ass.
“Benny boy,” hollered Mal. He was dancing on top of the coffee table with a long-legged brunette. The girl seemed hell-bent on wrapping herself around him, strangler-vine style. Somehow he managed to keep her at a polite distance. Well, almost.
“Yo,” replied Ben in a very manly manner.
“You met my girl, Anne?” Mal nodded to where I sat perched on the end of a couch. I froze. For hours he’d been otherwise occupied. I’d thought he’d forgotten about me entirely.
“You got a girl?” asked Ben.
“Yeah. Isn’t she cute?”
I got a brief looking over from Ben, followed by a chin tip. It seemed eerily similar to the one I’d gotten from David. Maybe this was the equivalent of a rock star’s secret handshake.
“We were talking earlier outside. We’re moving in together,” Mal informed him. The brunette in his arms scowled. He didn’t even notice. But more important, what the hell was he talking about? “It’s serious, man. Real serious. She’s got a few issues with her friends going on. It’s a fucking mess. Anyway, she really needs me with her right now for support and shit, you know?”
My hands quietly throttled the poor innocent bottle of beer.
“You doing the Dave and Ev thing?” asked Ben.
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m settling down. I’m a changed man. True love and all that.”
“Right. This should be interesting,” said Ben. “How long you think it’ll last?”
“Mine and Anne’s lustful passion will be eternal, Benny boy. Just you wait and see.”
Ben’s eyebrow arched. “You willing to bet on this?”
“Name your price, punk!”
“Five large says you can’t make it till we go on tour.”
“Fuck that. Make it worth my time. Twenty.”
Ben guffawed. “Easiest twenty grand I’ll ever make.”
“You’re moving in with me?” I asked, interrupting all the male bravado and talk of money. I wasn’t even touching upon my supposed friend issues.
“Yes, pumpkin,” said Mal, his face deadly serious. “I am moving in with you.”
I cringed at the horrid nickname but chose to focus on the real concern for now. “When did we talk about this exactly?”
“Actually, you might have left by then. But it doesn’t change the facts.” He turned back to Ben. “Perfect timing with Mom coming to town. She’s going to love her. Mom always wanted me to find a nice girl and settle down and shit.”
“Thought you didn’t like Portland,” commented Ben.
“I don’t like Portland. But I like Anne.” He gave me a wink. “Besides, Davie’s not moving back to L.A. anytime soon. Even Jimmy’s been talking about relocating, maybe buying the place next door.”
“Has he?”
“Yeah. You met his new babysitter?”
“Nah, not yet. What happened to the old one, the big black dude?”
“Ha, no. He’s long gone. There’s been several since him. New girl started a couple while back.” Mal chuckled. The sound was distinctly evil. “If Jimmy doesn’t want someone around, he has ways of making their life fucking intolerable.”
“Sh-i-i-t. Tell me later.”
Mal chuckled some more. “Anyways, things are tight between me and Anne. I may as well stay.”
The brunette turned her glare up to high beam. My look was probably more confused. Maybe he meant another Anne. One that had a clue what the hell he was talking about.
“Your girl doesn’t mind watching some chick crawling all over you?” Ben gave me a raised brow. “I need a girlfriend like that.”
“Ah, fuck. Good point. Honestly, this whole monogamy thing. It takes so much getting used to, man.” Mal set the distinctly cranky brunette away from him, the muscles in his arms flexing. He deposited her gently back down onto the floor. “Apologies. I’m sure you’re very nice and all but my heart beats only for Anne.”
The brunette threw a withering glance my way, flicked her hair, and turned to leave. Ignoring her huffing, Ben caught the girl around the waist, pulling her onto his lap. The girl’s transfer of affections took all of a millisecond. To be fair, Ben was a big burly guy. Few would say no.
Mal threw himself at my feet. I scuttled back in my chair in surprise.
“Forgive me, Anne! I didn’t mean to stray.”
“It’s fine.” I didn’t know exactly how much he’d had to drink. A truckload would probably be a good guess.
“Guess what, pumpkin?” Mal jumped onto the couch beside me, towering over me on his knees. “You don’t make crazy eyes at Ben.”
I needed to shoot him at least twice. Once for calling me pumpkin and then again for embarrassing me every damn chance he got. Instead, I studied my beer with great intensity.
“She makes crazy eyes at you?” asked Ben.
“Oh, yeah. Anne?” A finger slid beneath my chin and gently lifted, forcing me to face him.