Chapter 4
Hunter
My phone buzzed, and I couldn’t find it in me to lift my head to look at it. Mentally listing all my failings and how I could’ve done better at the audition was taking up too much bandwidth.
But when it buzzed for the umpteenth time, I finally hit accept and barked, “What!”
“Shit,” James laughed over the line. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”
“Did me not accepting your twenty-something calls not spell that out for you?”
“What are you talking about? This is my first call today.”
I jackknifed up, toggled to the missed calls screen, and the display literally took my breath away.
Danny Conlan
Danny Conlan
Danny Conlan
I had two new voicemails.
I quickly tapped that screen.
Under Danny’s contact, a text summary partially revealed.
Danny Conlan: Need to schedule another audition with you once Beau gets back, but it’s just a formality. Mal—
The message cut off, and I tapped it to read the entire text.
Danny Conlan: Need to schedule another audition with you once Beau gets back, but it’s just a formality. Mal, Ryker, and Leif are all yeses. And Beau is easygoing. Let’s get together for dinner and talk schedules and contracts. You free tonight?
“Holy shit! I got it!” I shouted. Standing up, I jumped on my bed like a little kid. “I’m in. I’m a fucking Lick!”
“Wait, what?” James’ small, tinny voice came from far away and reminded me that I’d been on speaker phone with him.
I grabbed my phone and babbled into it. “I got a message from Danny. He wants to meet tonight and talk schedules and contracts. I’m in. I’m fucking in!”
There was a heavy pause on the end of the line. James didn’t say anything for the longest time. So long that some of my elation leaked out of me.
I knew what he’d expected—hoped. He wanted to form another band—him, me, and some new guys. But I couldn’t, wouldn’t walk away from this.
This was the big time. Everything I’d dreamed of was literally being handed to me on a silver platter. I’d worshipped the Long Licks since I was a stupid kid, annoying my parents by taking up the whole basement with my kit, and annoying them and our neighbors with my constant practice.
I was going to be a Lick!
Finally James sighed. “I’m happy for you, bro. I really am. You know I only want the best for you. Glad one of us is getting to live the dream. I gotta go. Talk to you later.”
He ended the call before I even formed a reply.
I hated that I couldn’t take him with me. If anyone on this earth deserved to have his dream come true, it was James.
But life didn’t really work that way.
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur. Dinner with Danny.
Contracts. Lawyers. Beau had waived the additional audition, trusting the word of his bandmates.
Danny mentioned Beau saying if he had to sit through another audition he was going to drive drumsticks up Danny’s ass. I couldn’t wait to meet the guy.
But it was official—I was the newest member of the Long Licks!
Only I couldn’t tell anyone. I’d signed an NDA that said as much. The guys—and maybe the label too?—wanted to make sure the synergy was going to work or something. Honestly, the legalese bullshit made my head hurt.
All I knew was that after a final vote by the original band in a month, I’d have a one-year contract with them with an option to renew.
I wasn’t even twitchy about the vote since I’d already impressed them.
It was a formality really. I’d also had to give up rights on the next album—both in the case of a new album or if they released a best of compilation instead—and considering the zeros on my check, I hadn’t thought twice about it.
Because if everything went the way I wanted it to, there would be more albums and a hellova lot more zeros in my future—in the best possible way.
I was a fucking Long Lick!
James hadn’t called me back. I wasn’t worried about him spilling the beans. Despite his disappointment, James would always have my back—like I would for him. He just needed a minute to get over the disappointment. Change wasn’t always easy.
I was a fucking Long Lick now!
Shit, I had to get this stupid grin off my face. I couldn’t show up as that guy.
“I still can’t believe we’re going to Phoebe Benoit’s party. Do you know how big this is? Where did you even meet her?” My girlfriend, Cheyenne, chattered in the passenger seat.
Yeah, so she didn’t know yet. I couldn’t trust her not to blab. Cheyenne was hot, but she loved gossip. And my mama didn’t raise a fool.
I hitched a shoulder and tried not to look as excited as I really was. “I know the guys in her husband’s band. They’re the ones who invited me. I’ve never met her. What’s her name again?”
She turned in her seat and blinked at me. “Are you serious? You don’t know her name? Seriously?”
I signaled and pulled to a stop in front of vest-wearing guy standing on the sidewalk.
He walked over to my side of the car as I rolled my window down. “Name?”
“Hunter Adkins.”
He flipped through his clipboard, turned a page, then wrote something near the bottom of the page. “Leave the keys in the vehicle. You’ll need this to claim your car at the end of the night. Enjoy your evening.”
Both doors opened. Another guy helped Cheyenne to exit.
I stood and grabbed the ticket he offered while discreetly shoving a bill in his direction. He took it without a word.
As we walked toward the gate, I couldn’t help but think that my little Dodge Charger was going to feel like an imposter surrounded by so many Porsches and Lamborghinis.
And holy shit, was that a McLaren?
My Dodge Charger wasn’t the only imposter here.
Another guy opened the gate for us and gestured us through.
“What’s her name again?” I hissed in an aside to Cheyenne as we walked to the opulent front door.
“Phoebe. Phoebe Benoit. Have you been living under a rock or something? She’s all over socials and even signed a deal to be on the next season of Hollywood Housewives.”
“But we’re not in Hollywood, and Beau isn’t an actor.”
Cheyenne huffed in that annoyed way of hers I’d heard so many times. “It’s the allusion or whatever. You know, when things start with the same letter? That thing.”
I coughed into my hand to muffle the laugh that fought its way out. “Right. Thanks. I should’ve known.”
“Do. Not. Embarrass. Me,” she bit out just before the door opened at our approach.
I gritted my teeth. Pretty sure that was my line. But fuck it.
We were here.
Another vest-clad employee waved us inside and motioned to take Cheyenne’s bag.
Which is when it all went to shit.
“Oh hell no!” she screeched. “You are not taking my Birkin.”
Talk about fucking embarrassing. “They’re not robbing you. It’s coat check.”
“We do ask for you to hold onto your phones though.” The woman smiled kindly at us despite Cheyenne’s screeching. “Ms. Benoit encourages everyone to take pictures and videos tonight. Nothing is off limits.”
“Then I’m going to need my bag,” Cheyenne retorted in a condescending tone.
I closed my eyes for a beat while I wished for serenity.
Or a time machine to undo this awkward date.
After swallowing my own retort down, I gave the coat check woman a slight smile. “I guess we’re good then. Thank you.”
She inclined her head slightly, but I still saw a gleam in her eyes like maybe she was fighting tears.
Dammit.
I passed her a twenty before putting an arm around my annoying girlfriend and motioning to the room and noise beyond.
But Cheyenne wasn’t happy with me, either. She shook my arm off and gave me the look that was becoming her regular expression with me.
I huffed my own annoyance at her and let her walk on her own—three steps in front of me like she clearly wanted.
It was times like these that made me wonder why I put up with her bullshit.
She didn’t even give good head.
We got maybe five steps in when she grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray.
I set my jaw and grabbed my own from the tray.
Cheyenne was already halfway across the room, screeching at one of her friends, not that I could’ve picked the woman out of a lineup. Honestly, they were all starting to look the same—long hair, fake eyelashes, big lips. But for the hair color, her and Cheyenne could’ve been twins.
“Hunter! Hey! Good to see you,” Danny came over and we shook hands. “Did you bring your girlfriend?”
“Hey Danny. Uh, yeah. I brought someone. She’s here somewhere. Networking or whatever.” I lifted my glass in Cheyenne’s direction, her blonde head bent toward a gorgeous Black woman as she gestured with her champagne flute. That looked like an accident in the making.
“Right, right.” Danny nodded then lifted his highball and sipped. “Have you seen any of the guys yet?”
I shook my head. “Just got here.”
“Well hell. Let’s get you introduced to Beau, at a minimum. It’s his house, after all.”
I eyed the opulent décor, from the herringbone hardwood floor under us to the plaster ceiling with the matching beams overhead, every inch of Beau’s home was class and money. I tried not to drool. If this was a fraction of what I was in for, I was down.
Considering the way I’d grown up—the way my mom was still living—I wanted this life so bad, I could taste it.
Not that I showed it. Or at least I tried not to. Pretty sure my eyes bulged as we passed an honest to god marble statue in the living room. A statue! I’d never seen something like that outside of a museum.
My eyes might’ve lingered on the way the carved silk draped over the statue’s tits. It was so fucking gorgeous and intricate. And I was a breast man.
“Beau. Hey Beau!” Danny shouted, as he suddenly wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Got someone here you should meet!”
The bassist I’d watched so many times on videos and a handful of times on stage spun around, his long wavy hair flying around.
This time I knew my eyes bulged.
The guy was huge. Six foot four at least and built like a fucking brickhouse.
He looked like he’d be at home with an ax and a flannel shirt with his muscles, crazy hair, and beard.
So the Kiss t-shirt and cutoffs were a little confusing, especially when everyone else was so dressed up.
The woman next to him was wearing a gown.
Beau tipped his head and held out his hand toward me. “Hey, I hear you’re killer on the skins.”
“That’s the dream.” I grinned back at him as I shook his hand, trying and failing to hide my wince.
Was this another test—could I withstand a handshake from Paul Bunyan?
But then he smiled slightly as he dropped his hand. “Yeah, sorry I wasn’t there last week. It’s been… Fuck, it’s been a month of a week, if you know what I mean.”
I scoffed. “Are you serious? Because ditto.”
Did I sound like a tool? I didn’t want to come off like a raving sycophant.
I could all but hear Cheyenne in my ear. ‘It’s giving desperation. Could you be more obvious?’
But Beau just laughed. “I can imagine. We’ll have to get together and play soon.”
“Yeah, sure.” I swallowed hard. “Sounds like fun.”
And not intimidating at all.
“Hey, while you’re both here, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Isabella.” He turned and reached out toward the curvy woman a few feet away before his arm fell to his side like he didn’t know if he should touch her.
That was his daughter? I’d assumed she was his wife.
She was fucking gorgeous. And so different from the rest of the women here, it was mesmerizing.
Her blue baby doll dress showed off her spectacular tits before winnowing in at her waist, then flowing out and ending at mid-thigh.
She was the picture of a voluptuous fertility goddess, which was apt because none of my thoughts were pure at the moment.
But it was her doe eyes that held me spellbound. They held a world of pain. All nerves and vulnerability. Like she was questioning her worth or something.
Fuck me.
I wanted to hold her tight and tell her everything was going to be okay.
And then maybe spank her ass for questioning her self-worth.
None of these were thoughts I should be having about my bandmate’s daughter.
“Hi.” I held my hand out to her. “I’m Hunter.”
She reached out for my hand when Cheyenne came crashing out of nowhere, knocking the goddess’ hand away as she all but climbed my body.
“Hunty! You’ll never guess who’s here!” she screeched, wiggling against me.
“Is it our host’s daughter? Because that’s who’s standing…” I looked over but she was already gone, her blue dress swinging behind her gorgeous ass as she headed for the bar set up in the corner.
I swung my eyes back to Beau, but he was wrapped up in the rail-thin brunette with huge tits hanging off him.
Leaning toward Cheyenne, I whispered, “Act like you know what manners are. You might not care, but I fucking do.”
“You think I didn’t see the way you were staring at her?” She leaned closer to me, her voice a menacing hiss. “So obvious. And disgusting. She’s a cow. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I jerked back, my eyes going to my goddess before bouncing to her father and my future bandmate.
Who was staring menacingly back at me.
Fuck my life.