Chapter 17
Asshat – Not to be confused with a dumbass
Fender
“Are you awake, Fender?” Stan, our producer, asks through the microphone.
“I’m awake,” I grumble.
But this studio is not where I want to be. I want to be at Leia’s house. I never got a chance to explain why I said no when she asked me out. I should have stayed and waited for her to finish her call.
“I’m with him,” Jett hollers.
“I’m with Grumpapottamus, too,” Gibson agrees. “I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”
I slam my bass down before marching toward Gibson. “Not grumpapottamus.”
Dylan steps in front of Gibson. “No fighting.”
I glare at Gibson who ducks behind Dylan. “Someone save me from the grump monster.”
“Enough!” Cash growls. “I told you the studio asked us to record two more songs for a special edition album.”
“If everyone would behave, we’d have these songs done in no time,” Dylan adds.
Gibson peeks his head out from behind Dylan’s back. “It’s not my fault Fender can’t take a joke.”
Dylan cocks an eyebrow. “And at no time did you think ‘Hey, Fender, is extra grumpy today? Maybe I shouldn’t call him a ridiculous name?’”
“He is extra grumpy today,” Jett says as he taps out a beat on his drums. “Extra grumpy, extra grumpy. Is grumpapottamus feeling extra horny today?”
“Leia turned you down, did she?” Gibson asks.
I cross my arms over my chest and growl at him. He squeaks before hiding behind Dylan’s back again.
The door to the studio slams open and our producer charges inside. “Are we doing a fucking therapy session or are we recording music?”
Cash blocks him. “No. This is band business. Out.”
“I can hear everything you say from in there anyway.” Stan waves toward the control room.
Cash nods to Rob, our studio engineer, and he cuts the sound between the two rooms. “I told you when you demanded we record two more songs there would be issues.”
“This isn’t about the music.”
“I never said the issues would be about the music.”
“Fucking musicians,” Stan mutters before stomping out of the studio.
“Now,” Cash begins. “Is everyone going to behave so we can finish recording this song sometime this century?”
“I always behave,” Jett claims.
“When? When do you behave?” Cash asks.
Jett shrugs. “I always follow the instructions for hooking up my parachute.”
“Can we finish this recording and get out of here?” I growl.
“Uh-oh. Big guy’s getting impatient. Better get back to it before his grumpiness explodes,” Gibson says.
My nostrils flare as I stare at him while debating whether I should pick him up and throw him against the wall or get this recording over so I can go to Leia’s house and figure out where her head’s at.
Leia wins. She’ll always win with me. I grab my bass.
Cash rubs his hands together. “Let’s do this!”
Easy for him to be enthusiastic. He’s going home to the woman he loves. I want what he has. Maybe someday – with Leia – I will.
But I screwed up by leaving yesterday. Is she pissed at me? I need to get to her. My body vibrates with the desire to go to her but I lock it down to finish the recording.
“It’s a wrap.” The words are barely out of the studio engineer’s mouth before I’m moving.
“Where are we going?” Gibson asks as he and Jett follow me.
I increase my pace until they have to run to keep up or fall behind. Naturally, they don’t fall behind. I should be so lucky. They jog next to me while throwing questions at me.
“Do you need tips on how to seduce Leia?”
“Or tips for when you’re in the bedroom?”
I ignore them and continue until I reach the meadow behind our house.
“What are we doing here?”
“Does he have a shovel?”
“A shovel? What does he need a shovel for?”
“To bury us.”
If I was going to kill and bury them, I would have done it the first time I had to escort a drunk and naked woman out of their hotel room.
I search the meadow until I find the flowers I want and gather a bunch.
“Phew. He’s not going to kill us. He’s picking daisies,” Gibson says.
“Not daisies,” I grumble as I begin walking to Leia’s house.
“Isn’t he sweet? He got flowers for his lady,” Jett says.
I stop and glare at them. “Stop following me.”
“And miss the part where Leia removes your balls with a spoon?” Gibson chuckles. “No way.”
“Why would she remove my balls with a spoon?”
Jett motions to the flowers. “You obviously screwed up.”
“Fine. What will it take for you to leave me alone?”
Gibson doesn’t hesitate. “You to stop hiding my beer.”
I scowl. He needs to slow down his drinking. He’s careening out of control. But I know better than to tell him. Which is why I started hiding his beer. It doesn’t work. He just buys more.
“Fine.”
I march away but Jett continues to tag after me.
“What about me, big guy? What do I get?”
“How about I leave you in the field covered in blood the next time you break your leg and the ambulance can’t reach you?”
He pales before motioning for me to go ahead without him.
I increase my speed as I make my way to Leia’s house anyway since Jett and Gibson are not to be trusted. When I reach the house, I glance around to make certain they haven’t followed me. They wave from the front porch of our house. I give them my back and ring the doorbell.
“What is it?” Leia asks when she answers the door.
“These are for you.” I hand her the flowers.
“Daisies? You think daisies will cool my anger?”
“They’re not daisies. They’re Black-eyed Susans, a wildflower native to Colorado.”
Her brow wrinkles. “Are you a botanist on the side?”
“Eden from Eden’s Garden helped me.”
I went to the flower shop next to Bertie’s Recording Studio to buy Leia flowers but the flower shop doesn’t sell flowers. Instead, I got a lecture on the flower industry and how it’s ruining the earth. She even had a hand-out to explain things further. A hand-out I was tasked with reading and returning to her at my next opportunity because paper is bad, too.
Winter Falls and all its rules is confusing at times. But there’s no place I’d rather be. Not as long as Leia and Isla are here.
“I’ll put these in water,” Leia says before whirling around.
She leaves the door open so I follow her to the kitchen.
“I’m still mad. I asked you out, you said no, gave me the best kiss of my life, and then you disappeared.”
I smirk. “The best kiss of your life?”
She scowls. “Forget what I said.”
I stalk to her and she retreats until her back hits the counter. “It was the best kiss of my life, too.”
She snorts. “Yeah, right. You’re a rockstar. You’ve probably kissed more women than the combined male population of San Diego.”
“No. After Vicki, I stopped fooling around with fans.”
Her brow wrinkles. “You did?”
I nod.
“But what about your needs?”
“My hand worked fine.” I step closer. Until my chest hits hers. “But not anymore.”
“Your hand doesn’t work anymore? But you play the bass. You need your hand. Have you seen a specialist?”
I interrupt her before she can start phoning doctors. “I can use my hand but it no longer satisfies my needs.”
“Oh.” Her mouth forms a perfect circle and I groan as I imagine her mouth wrapped around my cock. Her lips stretched. Those blue eyes hot with passion. My hands fisted in those blonde curls.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
Her eyes flare with anger. “You said no when I asked you out.”
“Because I want to be the one to take care of you. To ask you out. To take you out on dates.”
She frowns. “That’s a good answer.”
I grin. “I know.”
“No getting cocky, dimple boy.”
I widen my smile so both of my dimples pop out.
“You’re using your dimples as a weapon again.”
“It’s only fair since you exist and I’m tempted.”
Her breath catches. “W-w-what?”
I lean close to whisper in her ear. “You heard me. You’re a walking temptation to me. Even when I was being a dumbass, you tempted me.”
“I thought we agreed on the term asshat.”
“Asshat then.” I take a chance and nip her earlobe. She shivers in response. This woman wants me but she doesn’t want to want me. “What do you say, Leia? One date. If it’s a disaster, I’ll leave you alone. Never bother you again.”
It won’t be a disaster. And I won’t leave her alone. I’ll figure out a way to endear myself to her.
“Fine,” she grits out.
I kiss the spot below her ear before retreating.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight? But I don’t have a babysitter for Isla.”
“Let me handle everything.”
“This ought to be interesting,” she mutters.
“See you tonight,” I call as I open the back door. I’m not staying and giving her a chance to change her mind. I can already see her beginning to doubt herself. Not happening.