Chapter 21
Paul “Rock Giant” Reed
“How much longer till we can get out of here?” Ash asked.
A show had been played. Fans rocked. Showers taken.
The two bands were now making a go of harmonising by way of some social drinking in a hotel suite booked for an after party.
So far, despite the alcohol, and a medley of extras there for the prestige, it was all very stiff, with everyone divided into us and them camps.
The only good thing about it was the free booze, which they were all knocking back to deaden the pure discomfort of being made to interact.
Honestly, no amount of corporate nurturing would forge friendships out of thin air or dowse the tension that defined every interaction.
Plus, Paul still hadn’t had a chance to say hello to Jodi.
She was nestled between the Ghost Boys, two of them on either side of her, like she was a mafia queen, and they were her muscle.
Somewhat weedy muscle, but the analogy stood.
He was sorely tempted to just walk over there and start things rolling by sayin, “Hey babe, wanna go somewhere I can worship your pussy”, but Xane and Ash had already shoved him back into his seat twice, and Ronnie was currently sprawled across his, Alle, and Spook’s laps doing…
Actually, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
He gave him a push, which sent him rolling under the table.
Also, he wouldn’t actually say that to Jodi. Too crude, and he was not a crude man. He did totally want to lick her out though.
“We done?” he asked.
Xane and Spook exchanged looks.
“Party time?” said the latter.
“Party time.” Xane stood. Prompting the rest of them to do the same. “It’s been lovely,” Xane said to the Ghost Boys tour manager, an older guy who looked as if he’d seen some stuff, while Ronnie scrambled out from under the table.
The Ghost Boys exchanged bewildered looks with the suits, who didn’t look pleased about the exodus.
Xane put a hand on their blond guitarist’s shoulder and said something to him too quiet for anyone else to catch.
No doubt, the rest of the band would be grilling him for details the moment Black Halo were out of the room.
“How long?” Paul asked as they piled into the lift. Black Halo were up in the penthouse suite for the night.
“I said to give it ten.”
“Ten what?” Dani asked yawning. “Man, I’m so pooped. It’s gonna take me a while to get back into the rock star routine. My body’s still on 9 o'clock tutorial time.”
“Bonding sesh in ten minutes,” Xane explained to his still yawning girlfriend. “I can’t face another two days of awkward interactions, let alone months, and nothing’s gonna ease while the suits are trying to buddy us up.
“So, you’ve invited them over?”
“’fraid so,” he said in response to the wrinkling of her petite nose. “If you need perking up though, I can make time before they arrive.”
“Hm,” she rubbed her face up against Xane’s chest. “I think I like that idea.” They disappeared straight into the bathroom the moment they were through the suite door.
No one needed to ask why, especially when Luthor followed them.
The rest of them flopped across various surfaces as beverages were poured, and Ginny put some music on.
Paul lingered on the periphery, so he’d be the one to answer the door and welcome them in.
The wait was only a few minutes. He opened the door to the blond guy and their bassist.
“Lee. Balin.”
They exchanged fist bumps as he ushered them in.
Jodi was next, along with the fiancé, who had his arm around her shoulders. “Welcome. Come on in,” he said.
Fuck, he wanted to rip the guys arm off.
Luthor was right. He didn’t want to share.
He wanted every bit of her all to himself.
Wanted time to explore and get to know her, make love, and grow old with her without interruptions.
They ought to be honeymooning somewhere, not kept apart by some invisible force field of societal expectations that gave Nash the upper hand by virtue of having had her first. Except, that wasn’t even true.
She’d been his Jodi, long before Curtis Nash arrived on the scene.
“Appreciate the invitation, man,” Nash said, brushing past him.
At least he’d let go of Paul’s lady love. Entrance wasn’t wide enough for them to get through glued together like conjoined twins.
“Castle.”
“Rock Giant.” She gave him a shy smile.
The final member of her fiancé’s band, the one with the long, wavy brown hair, and eyes like Turkish coffee leaned around her. “Jez. Be good, guys. Now, point me at the booze.”
Paul tipped his head in the right direction without taking his gaze off Jodi. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. How’ve you been?”
“Lonely,” he said. “I got hitched, but it’s still just me in my bunk listening to the rest of the wankers I work with get their rocks off of a night.”
“I’m sorry.” Remorse flooded her face. She touched his arm, leaned towards him. “I don’t expect fidelity, if you wanna… I mean, we agreed we were just gonna be friends, and you know, I’m with Nash.”
Oh, he knew that all right. Also, that wasn’t quite what they’d agreed, but he let it fly for now. “Cute, Castle. Very generous of you.”
Like hell was he going to be screwing anyone else. Just no to the nth degree. They might not have sworn fidelity as part of their vows, but that didn’t mean he was going to diminish things by seeking comforts outside of their bond.
“Paul, please. I don’t want you waiting around for me thinking something—”
“Jo-Jo, get your arse over here.” Nash patted the spot on the sofa next to him.
She looked up at him. Paul smooshed his lips together into a smile. “Forever,” he mouthed at her back as she crossed the suite and then sandwiched herself in between Nash and Jez.
Luthor emerged from the bathroom, looking rumpled. He took one look at Rock Giant and sighed. “Just no bloodshed, okay.”
“She doesn’t want me to do that, ergo, I’m not doing it.”
“Who doesn’t want you to do what?” Xane followed Luthor through the door, still zipping up.
“No one.” Luthor distracted his boyfriend by squeezing his arse. “Let’s go schmooze.”
Chatter commenced. Drinks were drunk. Jez drank too much. Ronnie plied everyone with Haribo, and only afterwards mentioned they were vodka soaked.
Paul swallowed a few of them, mostly out of boredom when the conversation turned to logistics and industry gossip.
He spent a while talking to Balin about pedal brands and pick-ups, but it wasn’t exactly deep and meaningful.
Throughout, he kept half an eye on Jodi.
She seemed happy. She was smiling. Joining in with the conversation.
All the Ghost Boys seemed pretty touchy feely with her.
He guessed it wasn’t just Nash she’d forged a bond with.
He was looking at her “new” family. Jez was almost asleep on her shoulder, and Nash had a possessive hand on her thigh.
“Where’d you all meet?”
Balin, all dark hair and darker eyes, frowned at him over the top of his beer bottle. “They’re happy, you know.”
“I can see that.”
“It’d be cool if you didn’t fuck it up between them.”
“If it fucks up, it won’t be my doing.”
“Dude, you’ve been eye fucking her since we arrived.”
“She’s hot. And more my thing than the rest of you, and what’s up with asking where you all met?”
“Apparently you two hooked up one time in the past.” Balin replied, still giving him nothing.
“She tell you that?”
“Nash. Nash told me that. I assume she told him.”
“It was a while back,” Paul confessed, happy to share that, if not the more intimate details of the occasion. “Weird night. Get you another beer?”
Balin swallowed what remained of the bottle in his hand. “Sure.”
“God, the bus, the bus.” Nash was expounding. “I cannot believe how much shit magically relocates. I mean, what is that about? You put something down, and next thing you know it’s in a fucking cupboard, or the under-seat storage, or someone else’s luggage.”
“Or clogging the shower,” Lee added.
“Truth.” Nash pointed a finger at him.
“Twelve pencils all gone,” Jez woke enough to contribute, before falling into a stupor.
“They’re in the cupboard with the cat food,” Balin said, walking over to join them.
Paul followed him, new drinks in hand for the two of them. He made use of the bottle opener, then found a perch on the edge of the coffee table alongside Ginny, who offered him a smile, then laced her fingers with his and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Who gives a shit about pencils?” Lee said.
“All the fucking condoms magically vanished the other night. I had to finagle one out of Jez, who’s like, ‘I’ve only got a couple left, man’, then this morning, I’m brushing my teeth and there’s a full box of them nestled in alongside Jo-Jo’s lady products in the vanity unit along with five random socks, a baby harmonica, and a packet of fucking feta cheese.
Like, what? Also, ain’t that stuff meant to be kept in the fridge? ”
“Who the fuck bought it, anyway?” Nash added.
Jodi, clearly, based on the nibble she gave her lower lip. He’d wager she was responsible for the randomly migrating objects, too.
“Faeries,” Paul suggested, half an eye still on Jodi, who began rolling a packet of love heart sweets—almost certainly from Ronnie’s stash—back and forth along her thigh.
“Assuming you mean that’s who’s relocating stuff, not buying feta. Although, maybe they can be blamed for both.”
“If it’s faeries, can’t they do summat useful like tidy the empties away, or fumigate the bog?” Balin asked.
“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Lee echoed.
“Clearly you’ve pissed them off.” Paul knew his faerie lore. “Basically, means you’re screwed until you make amends for the slight.”
“Need a slash.” Jez jerked awake and onto his feet. He stumbled over multiple sets of legs towards the nearest door and got redirected by Alle towards the actual bathroom. Paul took the opportunity to slide into the space he’d vacated alongside Jodi.