Stupid musicians!

Stupid, sexy guitarists in fitted shirts that highlight muscles and accentuate abs that should not be hidden behind cotton nor confined under it. But when muscles become eight-packs that’s what happens. Score one for him. He’s got my complete attention and it’s so annoying.

“Lara?”

I look back over my shoulder. Rochelle smiles while adding an accusing lifted eyebrow. Damn her and her all-knowing self.

“What?” I reply as innocently as I can.

“Really?” Crossing her arms over her chest and the stagnant stare tells me I’m not fooling her. “You ready or do you need a few more minutes to stare at the band?”

Caught.

Did Rochelle really think bringing me backstage to The Resistance sound check would be a quick in and out? I want to see the guys. Johnny Outlaw, the lead singer, may be the one most clamor to see, but not me. Everything about him oozes sex appeal, but despite that, my attention tends to go elsewhere. Dex, the drummer, is hot, but he and Rochelle… I’m not sure what’s going on there. The other guitarist, Derrick, is cute, but definitely not my type. Kaz on the other hand… I let my gaze linger on his ass in those tight jeans, the holes at the knees formed naturally, literally torn from wear. So freaking hot. “A few minutes,” I joke. Kind of.

She laughs, pulling the band around my topknot out before I can stop her. My long brown hair comes tumbling down over my shoulders and she says, “Fine, I’ll meet you at the car.” Teasing as she walks away popping the band she just stole from me, she adds while pointing at my hair, “That’s much better too.”

“Hey there.” And there it is, the voice I was longing to hear.

Before I have a chance to mess with my hair, I run my hand down the front of my purple silk shirt hoping it’s not a wrinkled mess. Not like guys care about that. Not that I should care about that. But I do when it comes to him. When I turn back around, Kaz is standing in front of me. His smile is sweet, one I haven’t seen him reveal in months, maybe since our beach encounter. I don’t kid myself though. I’m more practical than that. I’m probably one of many he’s actually shown it to, but I like to think it’s just for me. “Hi.”

“You coming to the show tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Tommy, the band’s manager, calls him from the dressing room and waves him over.

When Kaz’s caramel-colored eyes are back on me, the corners dip down along with his smile. He looks frustrated. “Guess I should I go. We’ve got some stuff to do before the show. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I’m honestly not sure what the game plan is, but I won’t miss this opportunity either. Nodding, I reply, “For sure.” I give a little wave and turn with a big smile on my face. I push through the double doors and am instantly blinded by the sunlight. When my eyes adjust, I see Rochelle’s SUV and walk to it. I’ve just closed the door when she says, “You’re gonna get yourself into trouble if you’re not careful. You need to be very clear with Mark, and do it today.”

Exasperated I’m still dealing with this mess, I lean my head against the seat. “I have several times. He refuses to listen.”

Her annoyance is clear, even though I can’t see her eyes behind the large designer sunglasses hiding them. Her head tilts and her smile flattens into a straight line. Rochelle is stunning even when she has no patience for things like her friends’ terrible relationships. “Make him listen. It’s not fair for you to live like this—”

“This? I don’t want to hurt him, Ro.”

“You know how I feel about everything that’s happened. You also know what’s happened to me. Don’t waste time on things, or people, who don’t make you happy.” She shifts the Escalade into drive, and turns her focus forward.

I’ve felt many emotions over the last few months, but the one that stands out is fear. I’ve felt it deep inside, yet it’s one I’ve not spoken of before, so I whisper, “I’m scared.”

Smiling sympathetically, she reaches over and squeezes my hand before returning it to the steering wheel. “It won’t be easy, but you’ve wanted this for a while. It’s time to move on with your life, Lara.”

“I know. I’ll do it soon.”

She drives through the parking lot toward the guarded gate while circling back topic-wise to where we began. “In the meantime,” she starts as a security guard presses a button and the gate lifts for us to leave the arena, “Tomorrow, we party. It’s been forever for me. I need a night out.”

“Me too.” Kaz crosses my mind and I wonder if how I’m feeling about tonight, about seeing him, is wrong. Flipping down the visor, I open the mirror to see how much I really embarrassed myself with Kaz. My hair is a wild mess of waves I can live with, and the charcoal gray eyeliner that rims my blue eyes is still in place, thank goodness. I push the mirror closed and lean back just as we pass a billboard advertising season tickets for the local major league baseball team. “It will be fun.” When I glance her way, I add, “Don’t let me drink too much.”

“I won’t. Or I might. I’m thinking you need a night out just as badly as I do.” She’s my friend through and through. She may freely give her opinion, but she won’t hold it against me if we differ. Following a laugh, she says, “I like Kaz. I’m just worried what your boyfriend might think about this friendship forming with him. Mark’s known for two things: homeruns and his temper. He wasn’t happy the last time you brought him around the band.”

Mark flipped out on the band manager for talking to me a four months back. I haven’t brought him around since. “I’m allowed to have friends. Separate friends from him. Besides, Mark and I haven’t been coupling since the playoffs began.”

“Coupling?”

I shouldn’t share my sexual secrets but it’s one of the reasons I’m leaving Mark, and I trust her with the information. “There’s no intimacy.”

“You don’t have sex?” The shock is heard through the higher octave of her voice. “Lara Kessler, please tell me that’s not the case.”

“Did you just full-name me?”

“I did. Now tell me you haven’t gone without sex.”

I shake my head. “I’ve had sex, though it’s been longer than I’d like to admit, and there’s no intimacy. It’s about him getting off and getting his body in tune to play. Sex is something he does for himself. Not me. It’s all about the sport—baseball and sex.”

“But I thought players went at it like rabbits in the off-season?”

“Everything in Mark’s life revolves around pre-season, the baseball season, and the playoffs. All else is considered a distraction to his routine, including me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s sort of embarrassing to admit, so I don’t talk about it.”

“When was the last time you… you know?”

“Speaking of rabbits,” I laugh, “can we stop at the store? I’m out of batteries.”

Rochelle doesn’t laugh, but her grin shows her amusement. “Definitely. I’ll even buy the bulk pack for you.” Traffic in LA sucks so she takes advantage of the time. “Mark has a competitive streak when it comes to pro baseball, but his jealous streak rivals it when it comes to you. Again, not to hound, but make a clean break before you flirt with disaster.”

She’s right. He’s very protective of me because he believes we’re meant to be, but the feeling isn’t mutual. “Is flirting with disaster a reference to Kaz?”

It’s too hot today, so I pull an elastic from my purse, and twist my hair back into a knot on top of my head. Her lack of answer causes me to say, “I was afraid of that.”

“Your friendship with Kaz is not wrong.”

She’s right. Of course. So for myself, I say, “We’re only friends. He’s a great guy, but we’re only friends. I’m not looking to jump from one relationship into another.”

“What if Mr. Right shows up?”

“I don’t need Mr. Right. I’m just looking for that damn elusive O. No matter how many batteries I go through, I’m not able to find him. It.” I correct. “I mean it, not him.”

She laughs along with me, but it lulls as we both realize what I mean. Then I just feel sad. “My mind is a mess these days.”

“We need our minds romanced as much as our bodies. The O will come. But not until your mind is free. You need to get yourself in a good place mentally.” Touching my hand again, she says, “Things work out how they’re supposed to, Lara.”

“Is that how you feel about Cory?” I shouldn’t have said that and I know it, but I’m curious and usually too afraid to ask. My defenses lower as regret sets in. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Her fingers tighten around the leather wheel, but her face remains neutral. “Things work out how they’re supposed to,” she repeats, her shoulders and tone much more stoic than her façade of calm.

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