I grinned, feeling comfortable and back on familiar ground. I loved Vivian’s bitchy attitude. Even if she hated that I loved it.
“Because Mitch said you were coming down with Gracie. Why? Was it supposed to be a surprise?” I teased.
“No. I just wasn’t sure it would be a big deal if I was there or not,” Vivian said flippantly but I knew she meant it.
She really had no idea how fucking excited I was that she was coming to Raleigh. How excited I got each and every time I knew I would see her.
“It’s a big deal, Viv. You know intimately just how big a deal it is.” I chuckled as I shoved my hand in my pants, stroking myself as I thought about all the things I wanted to do to the beautiful girl on the other end of the phone.
“I know that voice, Cole. You’re jacking off, aren’t you?” Vivian laughed. A deep, throaty sound, that sent blood rushing straight to my dick. I pumped my hand harder.
“Fuck yeah, I am. Talk dirty to me, baby,” I pleaded, already feeling the tingles in my belly. I was about to come like a thirteen year old.
Hard and quick.
“How about I tell you all the things I’m going to do with my mouth.”
And it was all over.
After my phone call with Vivian, I cleaned up and joined Garrett at the front of the bus. Mitch was hanging out with the dudes from Primal Terror, Jose was working on his computer, and Maysie and Jordan were noticeably absent. I guess I wasn’t the only one blowing a load.
“Whatcha workin’ on?” I asked, listening while Garrett tinkered with a new song.
“Just something that’s been buzzing around in my head for a while. Though it’s not clicking the way I want it to,” he said, strumming the worn strings of his guitar.
I started to tap my hands on my knees in an upbeat rhythm in time to Garrett’s playing. “What if Jordan took a solo here?” I suggested, smacking my knees frantically.
Garrett grinned. “Yeah, I like that.”
I ended up finding Jordan’s beat up acoustic and jamming with Garrett for a little while, helping him polish the song he had been messing with. Mitch joined us a bit later and bobbed his head in time to our playing.
Jordan and Maysie came wondering out from the bunks and sat down with the rest of us. Jordan didn’t say anything about me playing his guitar. Instead he grabbed a pair of drumsticks and started stringing together a beat on the table.
Garrett started singing and the lyrics began to flow. We all worked together and the music was effortless. There wasn’t any tension; egos were checked. This was just the four of us doing what we always did. Creating stuff we were proud of.
For all of our arguments and bullshit, when it came to our music, we just got each other. In a totally non-* way, of course.
A couple of the guys from Primal Terror ended up jumping in and it became one gigantic musical orgy. Musical masturbation at its finest.
And when we pulled into a diner off the interstate to eat dinner, everyone was in a pretty good mood.
“That song is going to be pretty awesome,” Jordan said as we sat down at the table. Maysie handed out menus. Jose nodded his agreement.
“Definitely. I think it just needs more of a vocal presence and it will be tight.” Jordan’s mouth tightened and I could see Mitch’s fists clenching. I didn’t say a damn thing. Though I agreed with Jose totally. A little more singing and it would be the best song we had ever written.
But then I would be accused of hogging the limelight. Why didn’t they just get me a T-shirt that read: Generation Reject punching bag?
“The label would love it. It’s got a great edge with enough radio appeal to make it work in the mainstream market. And with Cole’s vocals all over it, it will be fucking perfect.” Jose nodded his head.
“Hmm,” Jordan grunted and Garrett shrugged.
The good mood we had all been in sort of fizzled out and died and now we were left sitting together awkwardly.