Page 56 of Filthy Rock Stars
Damian groans. “Nico!”
“No, what he said makes sense,” I argue. “Shadow didn’t know about the ambush or the song. I believe him. He’s going to confront his band and find a way to make it right, and honestly, Damian, I think I just heard your eyes roll.”
“What happened to realizing you’re meant to be a famous musician? You were so certain you were going to choose the band, Nico.”
He gasps.
“What? Why did you gasp?”
“It’s just so exciting!” he says, his voice ringing like a bell. “You’re a rock star having a secret relationship with another rock star! And all I did today was dye my underwear and bake cookies.”
“I’m not a rock star,” I object for the millionth time, although I’m aware that Shadow arranged me a car with tinted windows for good reason. “But you’re right, I do want to choose that. I want to make music. I’m just not convinced yet that it has to be one or the other, Kissing Dirt or Shadow.”
“Ugh, so smitten,” he teases.
I laugh. “For the record, I think dying your underwear and baking cookies counts as a perfectly good use of the day.”
“Oatmeal raisin, you’ll be happy to know. Your favorite since you’re hosting tonight.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Oatmeal raisin,” my friend repeats slowly. “And the undies were tighty whities, not that you asked. Tighty pinkies, now.”
“Shit!” I yelp. “It’s game night at my place with you and Owen.”
“That’s the plan,” he affirms cheerfully. “You wanted something chill and normal to celebrate after your big television debut. Nothing more normal than oatmeal raisin, right?”
I start to panic. Owen is Fox’s partner, and since he understands the music world and my regular life, I thought when I made this plan that he’d be the perfect person to see after the talk show. Except his connection to Fox actually makes him an incredibly complicated person to socialize with now.
“Shit. I can’t believe I forgot.”
“I know. So unlike you. I guess that answers my other question.”
“What other question?”
“If you didn’t tell him off, then I was going to ask whether he finally slid it in.”
“Oh my god, Damian.” I drop my voice to a whisper, although there’s a divider from the driver. “Anal sex is not the only thing that could make me forgetful.”
“Says the man who always confesses how much he misses getting fucked after his third cocktail.”
“Do I really do that?” I sink into the seat, pushing the thought aside. “Should I cancel on Owen? No, that’s rude to do last minute. Although maybe he’d understand, considering the show. I do really want you to meet each other. I cleaned my bathroom before I left for LA, so it shouldn’t need more than a quick freshening.”
I realize the car has stopped and that we’re sitting in front of my building. Totally discombobulated, I knock on the divider and try to pay the driver, who refuses my cash, then wander out.
“Shit,” I say.
“Free advice?”
“Please.”
“Play a couple games with me and Owen. The distraction will be good for you. And I’ll promise to stay late so you can tell me all about the butt sex.”
“I never confirmed that.”
“You never denied it, either.”
I grin, the memory of being with Shadow so good, it pushes through the other emotions.