“All right, let’s get this done. We need to figure shit out about Katelyn,” Liam says as he shuts the door.
“You know my vote. I think she just needs a little guidance. We threw her to the sharks.”
“Bet you can’t guess what I heard.” JD pipes up.
“No, I can’t JD… Well, shit head what did you hear?” Liam rolls his eyes. I can tell this is going to be a productive day in the studio.
“Sam’s been sniffing around. I saw her at the Roxy the other night. She was after a quick shag, but I don’t do leftovers.”
Liam’s face turns red at the mention of Sam. I know what he’s thinking. If she’s around and trying to get with JD that means she’s trying to cause trouble.
“What else?” Liam asks.
“DeVon was playing that night and they definitely know each other.”
“Fucking hell,” we both say at the same time.
“Page, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Liam nods. “So help me, if she set this shit up I’m going to fucking kill her.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her. She was trying to convince me to join a new band, but I told her to piss off and take her skanky arse somewhere else.” JD has such a way with words. I swear he could be a poet.
“I don’t want to talk about Sam. I need to think,” Liam says as he flicks the light to let Tyler know we’re ready to record. Although I’m not sure what we are working on. “That song you wrote, let’s work on it and we’ll perform it tonight at Ralph’s.”
“Ralph’s?”
“Yeah you know, the pub where Liam likes to take the missus.”
“I know what Ralph’s is, JD.” Sometimes I think he’s still the same nineteen year old that asked us if he could jam with us one day. He walked right up to us after a gig and asked. He hasn’t left yet.
“We have a gig tonight,” Liam says this as if it’s an everyday occurrence for us to set up at Ralph’s. Whimsicality, yes, but not Ralph’s.
“Well great, thanks for letting me know.” I grab my headphones and put them on. JD and Liam do the same. I want to hide when Liam starts singing my lyrics, but the song is good, and he makes it sound even better. If we are performing at Ralph’s tonight, we better be on our game. The last thing we need is for a local gig to turn out shitty.
Five minutes.
That’s all it took for me to get a hard-on from standing next to her and all I did was touch her fingers. Her fingers for Christ sakes! How does that even compute in my brain? It’s also a mistake following her up the stairs, but there is no way I was showing her what was going on in my shorts. She’d be mortified. I’d probably run out of the room like a sissy.
But watching her walk up the stairs is pure hell. The swoosh of her skirt, the fabric moving along her ass with each step she takes, makes my issue stronger. There’s no way I can have dinner with anyone right now. The worst part, the guys will know, especially Liam. He purposely left me to deal with her. I’m the one who had to break the news that we were having a band meeting in his kitchen and her presence is required. He left me to deal with the sad face she made because he knows I’ll do everything I can to make her smile. So what did I do? I touched her. And while that might not have made her smile, it did me because she didn’t pull away. She allowed me to hold her hand before she stood up and straightened that tight ass skirt of hers and walked out of her office.
Of course, the guys have set up in the kitchen and not the dining room where there’s a nice long table for us to gather around. No, we are in the nook, crammed around some small table, making my current problem even more evident.
Something needs to change, but I’m not sure what. Either my cold showers need to be longer, or I’m really going to have to make a play for her, because I’m not sure I can stand the pressure anymore. It’s like a fucking tease show. I’ll let you kiss me when I’m drunk. You can hold my hand when you’re sober. We can make-out during a scary ride, but everything else is a ‘no’ when we are in our everyday lives. I hate not being able to touch her. I really want to touch her.
Instant dread washes over me when I look at the empty seat. JD is in the corner trying not to laugh and Liam is shoveling food into his mouth so he doesn’t have to talk. I try to adjust myself discreetly and lower my plate so she can’t see the obvious. I hate my band-members.
I have to squeeze by her, brushing her shoulder as I pass. There’s a jolt of desire in my groin when I touch her. I bite my lip, trying to hold back a moan. Who the hell moans in this situation? I need some serious help.
“The guys and I have been doing a lot of thinking.” Liam starts. We have? I want to ask. I remember this morning we started talking, but he needed to think. I wasn’t aware a conclusion had been discussed. This ought to be interesting.