Rock All Night

26




I was nervous all the way up to the penthouse.

I kept wondering how it was going to be seeing Derek. If the sexual tension was going to be as uncomfortable as it was last night. If he was really going to stick to ‘I’m not going to make a move, you’re going to have to make a move,’ or if he was going to go back to hitting on me.

But when I got up to the penthouse, I realized something else I should have been worrying about but had completely forgotten:

Ryan.

He answered the door when I knocked – showered, styled, and neatly dressed in jeans, brown oxfords, and a royal blue button-up shirt with a brown leather jacket.

“Good morning,” he smiled at me.

Suddenly all the discomfort of last night’s conversation came racing back.

“Uh… hey,” I said, my legs frozen where I stood.

He gave me a weird look – probably because of how uncomfortable I was acting – and then stepped aside. “Come on in, we ordered breakfast.”

I was about to say ‘no thanks,’ but then the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancake syrup wafted through the air.

Mixed with the stink of marijuana.

It was a measure of how hungry I still was that I didn’t even mind the pot smell.

But there was something I had to say first.

“Um… about last night…”

Ryan winced good-naturedly, like I was bringing up a disastrous ‘let’s just be friends’ prom date back in high school. “Can we just pretend that never happened?”

Relief flooded through me. “Yeah… sure. Are you okay with that?”

“Believe me, I’m more than okay with it,” he said, and smiled, putting me instantly at ease. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” I said, and walked in.

Immediately my old discomfort returned as I remembered about Derek – but he was nowhere to be seen.

Miles was on the other side of the humongous penthouse, pacing in and out of an open bedroom door, snapping occasionally at whomever was on the other line.

Killian sat in the middle of the room next to a couple of room service tables loaded with silver platters of food. He was dressed in black silk pajamas, which I never would have expected. Black, yes; not the silk part. For once, he didn’t have a joint in his mouth – just a piece of bacon. He did have the guitar in his lap, though he was only fingering chords, not strumming it. His free hand clutched a cup of coffee.

“Mornin’, luv,” he said amiably. I could tell he’d already hit the ganja from the mellow way he said it. That, and the invisible herbal cloud rising off him, like a pothead Pig Pen in the Charlie Brown cartoons.

“Good morning. Where’s Derek?”

“Um… haven’t seen him yet,” Ryan said a little hesitantly as he sat back down to his plate of food. I wondered with a tiny bit of panic if he knew about Derek’s late-night visit to me. Then I realized that, no, he was probably under the impression that Derek was still in bed with a girl or two he’d picked up from the dance floor.

Speaking of which –

“How did you make out last night?” I asked.


Ryan grinned. “I thought we weren’t going to speak of that.”

“I thought we weren’t going to speak of you and me,” I said mischievously. “I didn’t realize that extended to… other parties.”

Killian perked up. “What other parties?”

“No other parties,” Ryan said hastily, then looked at me. “I decided it was a bad idea and hit the hay early. Well… earlier. Sit down,” he said, gesturing at a chair beside him.

I sat and started loading up my plate. “Thanks.”

“Orange juice? Freshly-squeezed,” he said, holding up a glass pitcher.

“Sure.”

“We’ve got some champagne if you want a mimosa.”

Mmm. “Tempting, but I better not.” I looked around. “Are they still sleeping?”

“Who, Derek and Riley? Riley probably isn’t sleeping, exactly. Derek didn’t stay up here.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean? He didn’t come back last night?”

“He sleeps in another room somewhere in the hotel,” Ryan explained. “Always has, no matter where we stay.”

“Oh,” I said, and wondered just how worried I should be. “What did you mean about Riley, though?”

Right on cue, one of the giant penthouse’s bedroom doors banged open and a girl stepped out.

She was college age. Definitely cute – and incredibly disheveled. Her black skirt was slightly askew, and her green top was untucked and wrinkled. Her hair looked like she’d been in a wind tunnel. Her makeup was smudged, especially her lipstick. She held her high heels and purse in her arms.

As soon as she saw us, she froze like a deer in headlights.

Ryan and Killian both waved politely.

“Hello.”

“Mornin’, luv.”

I looked from one guy to the other, then followed their leads and hesitantly raised my own arm and waved.

The girl smiled – though it was a sick sort of Oh my GOD I’M SO EMBARRASSED grimace.

Then Riley walked out and slapped the girl on the ass.

More like stumbled out, actually. She was barefoot and dressed in a grey sleeveless t-shirt and ripped jeans. Her eyes were swollen shut and her raccoon eyes were even worse than before. Her mohawk was flattened horizontally over one side of her head, with hairsprayed sections jutting stiffly every which way.

As soon as Riley smacked her ass, the girl jerked and then blushed furiously.

“G’wan… I got… band… stuff…” Riley mumbled as she shuffled over towards the table like a blind zombie.

The girl raced past us, over to the penthouse door – and then paused before she let herself out.

“Call me,” she said piteously.

Riley waved her arm like Yeah, yeah without looking over at her.

Then the girl disappeared out the door.

“Uhhhhhhh,” Riley groaned as she plopped down in a chair, her eyes no more than puffy slits in her face.

“You’re such an a*shole,” Ryan said amiably.

“Shu’ f*ck up,” Riley mumbled as she held out her arm.

Killian reached down behind the table and handed her a bottle of Jack Daniels.

I stared at him.

“Hair o’ the dog,” Killian said, like whiskey was the most natural thing in the world for breakfast.

Without a word, Riley unscrewed the cap and took a drink straight from the bottle. A looooong drink.

“Ew,” I whispered.

Without looking at me, Riley flipped me a bird with her free hand – and kept guzzling.

“It’s like her morning coffee,” Ryan explained.

When she finally stopped drinking, she let the bottle dangle from her hand and leaned her head back against the top of her chair. “UGH I hate straight bitches. They never want to go down on you.”

EW.

I put my forkful of eggs back on my plate, uneaten.

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Ryan teased.

“F*ck off.” Riley tilted her head up, opened one eye halfway, and looked at me. “What’re you doin’ here, Blondie? I thought you and D woulda been poundin’ it out all mornin’.”

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I said icily.

She leaned her head back against the chair. “Guess he’s poundin’ somebody else,” she murmured.

I wanted to jump across the table and smash the f*cking bottle of whiskey over her head.

But a deep, rumbling voice stopped me.

“Well, you’d be wrong again,” Derek said as he closed the penthouse door behind him.