good
and pissed and clearly not done.
“And just so you know, I broke it off with Adam
yesterday because every time he tried to touch me, every time he tried to kiss
me I had to pretend it was you to even fake getting through it. But you’re
right, Jet, it won’t happen again, because you don’t know half of what you think
you know about me. Every time I think you’re figuring it out or at least trying
to, you just end up making me feel like an idiot.”
She threw the door open in a swirl of red and
righteous indignation. The guys in the band were all staring at me with knowing
looks, as she swept out of the room like a regal goddess. I saw Von open his
mouth, but I just squinted my eyes and pointed a finger in his direction. “Don’t
even start.”
I picked up my electric Les Paul and fit the strap
over my shoulder. I shook my head to try to get my brains and my libido to
settle back down, and shoved a guitar pick between my teeth.
“I wanna start with something a little different.
You guys think you can just follow me in?”
We had played together for years, and there hadn’t
ever been a time when I had spontaneously changed up a set that they hadn’t been
able to just fall in line or pick up the rhythm and follow my lead. Boone
narrowed his eyes at me and picked up his bass.
“It’s going to be one of those shows?”
I blew out a breath and tried not to think about
how good Ayden felt, how perfect she had tasted and moved against me. Granted, I
had had a thing for her for a hell of a long time, but I hadn’t been prepared
for the reality to profoundly beat the crap out of the fantasy. She was a girl
who wanted things in life I was never going to be able to give her. It shouldn’t
make me go sideways every time we were close, when I knew that nothing was ever
going to come of it. While I wasn’t opposed to being any pretty girl’s good
time, something told me that when she walked away after having her fun, she
would be taking with her more of me than I wanted to give.
The sound tech running the board at the venue
called us onto the stage, and as soon as we walked out, the crowd erupted. I
lifted a hand and saw Von give a little salute. Here, we were kings and what
happened elsewhere didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. I loved to play live. Loved
to give the crowd a show that made them move and sing. It was my way of getting
all the poison that filtered around in my blood out, so that it didn’t kill me.
The house lights went down and the red spotlight hit me squarely in the face. I
looked around the crowd, refusing to admit I always searched for a certain dark
head in the masses. I forced a wicked grin and shoved my hands through my hair,
and heard a few ladies offer up loud whistles.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, motherfuckers!!!” Everyone
screamed and Von struck a long chord on the guitar. I grabbed the mic with both
hands and squinted into the light. “Unfortunately, for all you love birds out
there, you came to see a rock show. We don’t sing songs about love.” There were
more cheers and someone screamed “I love you, Jet!” at the top of her lungs. I
laughed and felt the intensity ratchet up and up. I cocked a hip to the side and
gave my best sneer, feeling all the things that had just happened with Ayden
blazing under my skin.
“We don’t normally do cover songs, but tonight, oh
tonight, I think we’ll introduce a little metal to one of my ol’ faves.”
I felt the anticipation blow across my skin, saw
Von and Catcher share a slightly worried look, but before they could stop me, I
strummed the opening bars to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Love the One
You’re With.” I loved old rock and roll, when songs were written for a reason,
and this one seemed to be a perfect fit for my night. I took the bluesy notes,
the folksy undertone, and bellowed it out over suddenly screaming guitar riffs.
Stephen Stills would be appalled, as I sang with every bit of dissonance I
and pissed and clearly not done.
“And just so you know, I broke it off with Adam
yesterday because every time he tried to touch me, every time he tried to kiss
me I had to pretend it was you to even fake getting through it. But you’re
right, Jet, it won’t happen again, because you don’t know half of what you think
you know about me. Every time I think you’re figuring it out or at least trying
to, you just end up making me feel like an idiot.”
She threw the door open in a swirl of red and
righteous indignation. The guys in the band were all staring at me with knowing
looks, as she swept out of the room like a regal goddess. I saw Von open his
mouth, but I just squinted my eyes and pointed a finger in his direction. “Don’t
even start.”
I picked up my electric Les Paul and fit the strap
over my shoulder. I shook my head to try to get my brains and my libido to
settle back down, and shoved a guitar pick between my teeth.
“I wanna start with something a little different.
You guys think you can just follow me in?”
We had played together for years, and there hadn’t
ever been a time when I had spontaneously changed up a set that they hadn’t been
able to just fall in line or pick up the rhythm and follow my lead. Boone
narrowed his eyes at me and picked up his bass.
“It’s going to be one of those shows?”
I blew out a breath and tried not to think about
how good Ayden felt, how perfect she had tasted and moved against me. Granted, I
had had a thing for her for a hell of a long time, but I hadn’t been prepared
for the reality to profoundly beat the crap out of the fantasy. She was a girl
who wanted things in life I was never going to be able to give her. It shouldn’t
make me go sideways every time we were close, when I knew that nothing was ever
going to come of it. While I wasn’t opposed to being any pretty girl’s good
time, something told me that when she walked away after having her fun, she
would be taking with her more of me than I wanted to give.
The sound tech running the board at the venue
called us onto the stage, and as soon as we walked out, the crowd erupted. I
lifted a hand and saw Von give a little salute. Here, we were kings and what
happened elsewhere didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. I loved to play live. Loved
to give the crowd a show that made them move and sing. It was my way of getting
all the poison that filtered around in my blood out, so that it didn’t kill me.
The house lights went down and the red spotlight hit me squarely in the face. I
looked around the crowd, refusing to admit I always searched for a certain dark
head in the masses. I forced a wicked grin and shoved my hands through my hair,
and heard a few ladies offer up loud whistles.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, motherfuckers!!!” Everyone
screamed and Von struck a long chord on the guitar. I grabbed the mic with both
hands and squinted into the light. “Unfortunately, for all you love birds out
there, you came to see a rock show. We don’t sing songs about love.” There were
more cheers and someone screamed “I love you, Jet!” at the top of her lungs. I
laughed and felt the intensity ratchet up and up. I cocked a hip to the side and
gave my best sneer, feeling all the things that had just happened with Ayden
blazing under my skin.
“We don’t normally do cover songs, but tonight, oh
tonight, I think we’ll introduce a little metal to one of my ol’ faves.”
I felt the anticipation blow across my skin, saw
Von and Catcher share a slightly worried look, but before they could stop me, I
strummed the opening bars to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Love the One
You’re With.” I loved old rock and roll, when songs were written for a reason,
and this one seemed to be a perfect fit for my night. I took the bluesy notes,
the folksy undertone, and bellowed it out over suddenly screaming guitar riffs.
Stephen Stills would be appalled, as I sang with every bit of dissonance I
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