Drive Me Crazy

CHAPTER Nine


After breakfast, the guys each grabbed another cup of coffee then headed down the hall to Quinn’s music room. He asked if she wanted to join them, but Elise figured the last thing they needed was a classical pianist hanging around while they tried to write their new album.

Besides, she had revenge to plot. Watching Quinn get a face full of coffee had been amusing, to say the least, but in the grand scheme of things it just didn’t stack up against a cast covered in obscene pictures. She was the one who was going to have to explain it to the doctor, after all.

Quinn was already suspicious, though, so she was going to have to get creative. Which was more than fine with her. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do with her time at the moment.

She wasn’t certain what it said about her that she was this excited to torture a man who had gone out of his way to help her. And to be honest, she didn’t care. All that mattered at this point was getting the best of Quinn.

So while the band spent the morning working on what sounded like a damn fine ballad—one about mistakes and forgiveness—she spent the morning wandering the house and trying to figure out a truly dirty trick to play on Quinn.

The irony of the situation was not lost on her.

Though it took well over an hour, the answer finally came to her when she was poking around the kitchen. After sneaking down the hall to make sure the guys were still absorbed in their songwriting—which they were—she set the necessary supplies out on the kitchen table and got to work.

Two and a half hours later, she had just finished putting everything away when a woman carrying three large pizza boxes let herself in through the same door Ryder and Jared had come in earlier. Tall and curvy, with long red hair and a smile as bright as the sun, she dropped the pizzas on the table then pulled Elise in for a peach scented hug.

Elise went along with it—mostly because she didn’t know how to get out of it gracefully—then breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally free. She didn’t know who the woman was, but logic said she was probably a “friend” of Quinn’s. And while Elise had no claim on him herself, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to have her competition hanging all over her.

Not that the gorgeous redhead was actually her competition. Elise wasn’t competing for Quinn. Not at all. Not even a little bit. The fact that she didn’t stand a chance next to this woman was completely superfluous.

“You must be Elise! I’ve heard so much about you! How are you feeling? How’s your hand? Quinn said you were doing really well, but I wanted to come over and check on you. See if there was anything you needed. Quinn’s a great guy, but even great guys don’t always understand that sometimes women need more than a can of beer and a television set to be comfortable.”

Elise found herself nodding along with the words tumbling out of the other women’s mouth. Not because she agreed or disagreed, but because they were coming so quickly she could barely keep up. And she hadn’t even taken the pain medication Quinn had given her that morning because she’d wanted to keep her wits about her.

But before she could respond—or ask who the woman was—Ryder came strolling into the kitchen, Jared and Quinn at his heels. “I knew I smelled pizza.” He leaned down and gave the redhead a lingering kiss before finally drawing back. As he pulled her against him—her back to his chest—Elise finally clued in to who the woman was.

“You’re Jamison?” she asked tentatively. “Ryder’s fiancée?”

“And my sister,” Jared said, reaching over to ruffle Jamison’s hair.

“Of course I am. I—” Jamison broke off mid-sentence, her eyes going comically wide. “Did I forget to say that?”

Elise nodded.

“No wonder you looked at me like I was a crazy person. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. But yes, I’m Jamison. Jared’s sister. Ryder’s fiancée. Quinn’s friend.”

She stressed the last word a little and Elise looked down at the ground as her cheeks flushed. Maybe Quinn wasn’t the only one whose jealousy was obvious.

“Thanks so much for going shopping for me when I was in the hospital. You got everything I could possibly need and I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be silly!” Jamison waved off her thanks. “I’m surrounded by men all the time. Going shopping for girl stuff is fun for me. Although,” Jamison eyed her up and down, “Now that I see you, I’m guessing the stuff I bought was too big. I was going off Quinn’s descriptions, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“Everything was great. And only a little too big, which made it really comfortable, actually. So, again, thanks.”

“Anytime. Really.” Jamison’s smile was so real that Elise couldn’t help relaxing. No matter how out there they looked, Quinn’s friends were really nice people.


Jared settled himself at the table and reached for the pizza boxes. “What kind did you get?”

“Don’t worry. One of them is prosciutto and pineapple, just for you,” Jamison told him with an indulgent smile.

Soon the group of them was all gathered around the table, scarfing down pizza and beer and talking over each other as ideas for the new album flew fast and furious between them. Elise’s earlier opinion about them being a close-knit group was reinforced by the way they finished each other’s sentences and the way their energies fed off of one another.

She expected to feel like an interloper, or at least an unwanted intrusion. After all, she’d pretty much lived her whole life as one. She was the unplanned pregnancy that had stolen her mother’s touring career. The unwanted baby who had killed her mother, and the love of her father’s life. The unwanted girl who could never measure up to the genius she had stolen from the world. And that had come from her father, from the man who was pretty much required to love and take care of her.

She didn’t even mind feeling like that, not with Quinn. After everything that he had gone through, she was just happy that he’d found some place that he fit in, with people who loved and respected him for who he was. She was more than happy just being an observer, and getting a chance to see him in his element.

So she settled at the end of the table with a piece of pizza and a soda and planned to just enjoy the show.

The way Quinn would shout out an idea and somehow get everyone at the table excited about it.

The way Ryder’s face would light up whenever Jamison brushed against him or smiled at him or even looked his way.

The way Jared, who she was coming to realize rarely looked anything but sad, tapped experimental rhythms out on the table to match up with Quinn’s lyrics or descriptions.

But it didn’t take long for Quinn to realize that she’d isolated herself. Then he was reaching over with one powerful arm, dragging her chair closer to the rest of them. Putting her solidly in the middle of the fray. Soon, she was throwing her own ideas out about baselines and melodies and even contributing to the lyrics of a chorus while Quinn feverishly scribbled everything that was said into a battered black leather notebook.

It was fun. Way more fun than she ever could have imagined. Not just the fact that they listened to her and made her feel like she had something to offer—which was amazing in and of itself—but the actual act of composing. Of putting words and notes together from nothing and making something wonderful.

That had never been her thing. Oh, she understood how melodies worked together. Understood how scores and operas and symphonies were built from both the simplest and most complex combinations of notes and chords. But she’d always been too busy trying to master the most difficult compositions she could to ever think about creating something on her own.

If nothing else came of this week here with Quinn, she would always have this moment. This new bit of knowledge about herself that she never would have imagined. It was more than enough.

Eventually all the pizza was gone—although how they’d managed to consume three extra large pizzas she didn’t know—and Quinn got up and headed over to the pantry. He came back with a box of Twinkies and a pack of Oreo cookies and set them in the middle of the table.

“Are you serious?” Jamison demanded. “Do you know how bad those things are for you?”

“From the woman who just brought us pizza, that sounds a little hypocritical.”

“Excuse me, but that was gourmet pizza with fresh, organic ingredients and whole wheat crust. The stuff you’re eating was created in a factory.”

“I don’t care,” Quinn told her as he stuffed a cookie in his mouth. “They taste good.”

“No,” she told him adamantly. “They don’t. They taste like chemicals. Because that’s what they are.”

“Sorry, Ms.-Soon-To-Be-A-Famous-Dessert-Maker. Some of us don’t have the time or talent to make everything from scratch.”

“Well, then, go to a bakery. Or call me—I’ll be happy to bring something over. But don’t eat that crap. Please. I implore you.”

“Separate corners, you guys.” Ryder broke up the fight with an air of amusement that said he’d done it many times before. Grabbing Jamison around the waist, he pulled her onto his lap. Nuzzled her neck. “You know you aren’t going to change him, babe.”

“Change him?” Quinn demanded, eyebrow raised. “I’m pretty sure it was you and Jared who had me hide your damn Oreos and cupcakes under my bed on the tour bus so Jamison wouldn’t find them.”

“Dude! What are you doing?” Ryder demanded with a scowl. But when he turned back to Jamison, his eyes were wide and pleading. “Darlin’, Quinn didn’t mean it. He’s just—”

“Are you kidding me?” Jamison shoved off his lap. “You’ve been eating this junk, too?”

“No. Of course not. I—”

She just stared at him with narrowed eyes until finally he sighed heavily. “Okay. Fine. I have been. But not very often and only because Jared made me.”

“What?” Jared gaped at him. “I’m not the one who used to sneak off the bus during three a.m. gas stops for my junk food fix. I’m pretty sure that was you and Quinn.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ryder wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. She turned her face away, but then he just pressed kisses up the side of her neck until she giggled and shoved him away. After she’d given him the kiss he wanted.

“Well, then, if you’re so serious, you won’t mind if I take these with me when I head back to the house.” She reached into the center of the table and snagged the Twinkies and Oreos. “I’m sure I can find somewhere to throw them away between here and home.”

“What?” Quinn squawked indignantly. “I’m not related to you or going to marry you. I don’t have to follow your rules. Leave them here. I promise I won’t let either of them have any.”

“Yeah, ’cause I believe that. You’d be sneaking them Oreos before I got to the bottom of the driveway. Besides, you may not be related to me, but you’re family. And I want you to stick around for a while.” She leaned in to give him a quick hug, making sure to keep a firm grip on the Twinkies, which she was holding behind her back, the entire time.

Then she turned to Jared. “What time are you going out to visit Wyatt today?”

“I thought I’d leave here about two-thirty.”

“Give me a call before you go. Maybe I’ll ride back out with you—it was good to see him yesterday.”

Jared nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did anyone else. Elise didn’t know who Wyatt was, but something about him had obviously upset the group of them. The lightheartedness that had been so much a part of lunch was gone, replaced by a concern that was nearly palpable.

Jamison left right after that. Quinn watched from the window as she drove away, then went into the pantry and pulled out another box of Twinkies. “I don’t have any more Oreos, so these will have to do.”

“Thank God. What the hell were you trying to do, outing me like that to my girl?” Ryder demanded as he tore the box open.

“Hey, you’re the one who threw me under the bus. I was just reciprocating.”

“Actually, I think Jared’s the one who threw us both under the bus.”

“And he didn’t even get yelled at.” Quinn snagged a couple Twinkies from the open box. He offered one to Elise, but she just shook her head. “How is that fair?”

“One of the perks of being a big brother,” Jared said smugly, reaching for a Twinkie of his own.

Ryder just looked at him. “You don’t actually think you’re getting one of these, do you?”

“Damn right, I am. You’ve had to live with her for less than a month. I’ve had to live with her almost my whole life. I deserve two Twinkies for that.”

Ryder raised a brow at Quinn, who nodded. “He does have a point.”

“I guess.” Ryder pouted as he handed the guitarist two of the small snack cakes. “Are you sure you don’t want one, Elise?”

“Positive. They’re not really my thing.”

“I don’t even know how that’s possible.” Quinn ripped off the clear wrapper. “They’re awesome.”

“They are. I mean, sure, Jamison’s desserts are way better, but sometimes a guy just needs a Twinkie.”

“Absolutely.” Ryder shoved the whole cake in his mouth, started to chew and the other guys followed suit.

Elise watched them, figuring it wouldn’t take very—

“What the hell!” Quinn yelped around a mouthful of cake. He ran to the sink, spit it out. “Shit, these are rancid or something.”

“Ugh. Gross.” Ryder ran to the trash and spit out his mouthful as well.

Jared didn’t say anything, but the fact that he was turning green was a pretty good clue that he’d actually managed to swallow his. And was regretting it. A lot.

Quinn rinsed his mouth out, gagging the whole time. “I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!”


“Don’t hog the water, man!” Ryder shoved him out of the way and shoved his head under the tap. Then came up sputtering when he nearly drowned himself.

Jared, in the meantime, went straight for another beer. He downed the thing in two long gulps, making disgusted faces the entire time.

Never had she wished for a video camera more. She could get serious play on YouTube with this. Especially considering the whining. She bet their fans would pay a lot for a video of Shaken Dirty crying like little babies.

After much bitching and moaning, Quinn and Ryder eventually made their way back to the table. “What’s the expiration date on those things?” Ryder demanded, reaching for the box. “How long have you had then? Since before tour started or some such shit?”

“That shouldn’t matter. Twinkies are supposed to withstand nuclear war, aren’t they?” Jared popped the top on another beer.

“Obviously not.” Quinn shook his head. “But this makes no sense. They aren’t supposed to expire for two weeks.”

“Then you need to write a complaint letter, man. Because whatever that was, was not okay.”

Quinn reached into the box and pulled out a second Twinkie.

“Dude, you aren’t seriously going to try another one, are you?” Ryder demanded in horror.

“Really? Does that sound like something I’d do?” But he opened the package and pulled out the small snack cake. Sniffed at it. “It smells fine.”

“I’m pretty sure whatever was wrong with it had to do with the cream.” Jared grabbed it from him, broke it in half. Took a whiff. “Oh, yeah. Definitely the cream.”

“That’s weird,” Quinn said, reaching for it. Then he sniffed at the center of the Twinkie too. “The color’s not right. And it almost smells like—”

“Like what?” Ryder demanded, a half-frightened, half-disgusted look on his face.

“Like mayonnaise.”

“Mayonnaise? Why would there be mayonnaise in a Twinkie?”

“I don’t know. But—” Quinn froze mid-sentence, his gaze shooting to Elise’s.

So far she hadn’t said anything, just sat back and silently watched as the whole Twinkie drama unfolded. But now she couldn’t resist asking, “Do they deal with products that have mayonnaise in the same plant? Maybe there was some confusion or—”

“You did it.”

“What?” She tried her best to look innocent. “Did what?”

“You sabotaged my Twinkies.” He stormed over to the pantry, pulled out the remaining two boxes. “Did you get them all?”

“Quinn, man, I think the bad Twinkie cream went to your head,” Jared looked baffled. “Why the hell would Elise sabotage your Twinkies?”

Quinn was too busy ripping into the other boxes to notice. After checking one from each box, he said, “You did. You poisoned them all.”

“Really?” It took every ounce of willpower Elise had to keep a straight face, but somehow she managed it. “You think I poisoned you?”

“I think you did something.”

“Again,” Jared asked, “Why would she do that?”

“Why don’t you tell him, Elise? Why would you f*ck with my Twinkies?”

She raised her brows at him. “Believe me, Quinn, I have no desire to f*ck with your Twinkie.”

Ryder cracked up, followed seconds later by Jared. Even Quinn was grinning at her when he said, “But you did.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a deliberately careless shrug. “Maybe it was you who did it. You are the one with the obsession with phallic shaped objects, after all.” She waved at him as she said it, making sure to use the arm with the cast on it. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go take a nap. I find I’m a little tired after all the exertion of the day.”

“Yeah, emptying out and then refilling forty-eight Twinkies must have been exhausting.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She smiled at Jared and Ryder as she headed out of the kitchen. “Bye, guys. It was nice to meet you.”

“You don’t really think you’re going to get away with this, do you?” Quinn called.

She turned back, gave him the sweetest smile in her repertoire. “But Quinn, honey, I already did.”

The last thing she heard as she disappeared down the hallway was the sound of Ryder and Jared cracking up all over again.

“Dude,” Ryder said in between peals of laughter. “You are in so much trouble with that one.”

She nearly laughed herself. She’d never been called trouble before. She had to admit, she kind of liked it.