Chapter Seven
As I walk through The Cockyard, my hand on the small of Avery’s back guiding her past crowded tables and booths, I decide being with her makes it worth coming inside here again.
It’s been a lot of years since I’ve walked through the doors of this establishment. It’s not my kind of hangout. It’s more Eric’s turf than mine. He thrives in the fast lane, all the glitzy, showy memorabilia, the plush red furnishings, the dark wood walls, the pulsing vibration of music, the smoky air, and the dimly lit ambiance filled with scantily clad, centerfold-sexy waitresses.
My brother is a rock star every second of his life, but I’m the guy in the back and I prefer it that way. This kind of stuff I can take or leave. But there’s no confusion over Avery wanting me to bring her here or why.
It’s an institution in the southland, the kind of place you go to be seen on your way up in your career or in the twilight of fame to swap lies and tell stories. Blog worthy for a girl trying to make her mark as a music influencer, and I’m sure that’s why she wants this experience and not the less favorable reason girls usually press me to bring them here: to be seen to further their own fame ambitions.
No, can’t fault her for wanting to come here, though I would have liked our first date to be somewhere else. I remind myself that I didn’t know this afternoon would turn into something more when I brought her here.
My only intent was to help her career and keep my hands off her. The Cockyard seemed as good a place as any to do both. It’s the crossroads of the old guard and the next generation of rock music. The walls are lined with pictures of The Cockyard’s musical hall of fame. Grandpa Jack, my dad, Eric, and yes, noted often, every musician in my family except me. But then why would my picture be on the walls? I’m not the front man or the star. That’s Eric’s slot, and one I’d never want to slip into.
I’ve spent a lot of time here with my dad and the band. It’s a good place to keep current on the industry and the buzz. There are lots of good memories—and bad.
I block the thoughts threatening my mind, not wanting the junk they’ll bring with them. Eric. Tara. Me. That night at The Cockyard that damn near made me enemies with my brother.
Fuck, it was so long ago. Why am I thinking of that? What guy thinks about his old high school girlfriend when he’s out with a girl he’s hot for? What a waste of time. It’s water under the bridge. Eric and I moved past it, Tara and I moved past it, and it’s ancient history. It would never have worked out with her and I wouldn’t want to be with Tara even if she hadn’t cheated.
A guy’s taste in girls changes as he grows up. I’m into a different type. I’m into Avery.
Seeing the smile on her face and the excited looks darted over her shoulder at me, tell me being here with her will fall into the former. A good memory.
Hell, it already is just being here with her. The feel of her in my hand and knowing tonight ends with us in bed makes it worth showing my face in here again and even the wait through all the other shit I have to still do today before we can get this night really going.
“Ethan. Over here.”
My head turns in the direction of the voice and my gaze lands on an unwelcome sight. Fuck, it’s the guys—Hugh, Linc, and Taz—crowded in a booth with their usual mob of girls. I should have expected it, performing tonight and all, but I was kind of hoping they wouldn’t be here. I just wanted one fucking afternoon alone with Avery.
I nod in Hugh’s direction and contemplate continuing behind the hostess to our table. A little privacy with a girl; is it too much to ask?
Fuck, it must be. Hugh scrambles from his booth and crosses the club toward me.
“About time you got here,” he proclaims approvingly, draping an arm around Avery and favoring her with one of his salacious smirks. “Thought you were going to blow us off and stick with your brother all day. That’s how it usually plays out. The Manzones on one side, the rest of the band on the other.”
I shrug, wishing he’d let go of Avery almost as much as I dislike how it feels that he’s always trying to put a wedge between me and Eric. It’s been constant in the last four months. Jabs and cryptic warnings like on stage today. It’d be great if he let whatever hair he’s got up his ass go, but Hugh’s always thinking up stuff, changes he wants for the band that I’m sure don’t include Eric.
“I’m not on any side,” I say, annoyed. “There are no sides, Hugh. There’s just you butting heads with Eric like always. Don’t read anything into me being here without him. Eric had other shit to do and I didn’t come here to get ripped with the guys. I brought Avery here so she can cross it off her events list.”
His gaze turns irritated. “You’re going to have to take sides eventually, E. The label’s ripping up our contract unless we make some changes. There’s no stopping it. Eric’s out of the band starting tomorrow. We’re signing new contracts without him. You need to figure out soon if you’re in or if you’re letting your brother shit-can your career with his.”
“You’re full of it, Hugh. The label wouldn’t want that and neither should the band,” Avery states, stepping between me and Hugh. “Don’t you get tired of spewing nonsense and having no one take you seriously? Maybe you should close down the rumor factory and stop trying to pit brother against brother so you can push Eric aside and replace him.”
She crosses her arms with her gaze boring into him and his jaw tightens, mouth clamped shut.
“Exactly as I thought,” she announces, lifting her chin. “More bullshit drama. I’ve already told you it’s never going to happen, the label won’t cut Eric loose, which is why I ignore everything you tell me and it never makes the blog.”
I’ve no clue how Hugh got from grumbling on stage during sound check to cocksure it’s a done deal and feeding tidbits of his agenda to our resident blogger. Jesus Christ, how long has he been spewing to her this garbage and why didn’t she tell me? Yet Hugh’s expression warns this isn’t his usual hot air. He’s practically gloating in my face.
“He’s full of shit,” I finally say as they both wait for a response from me. “You’re right about that, Avery. Without Eric, there is no band. You said it yourself, Hugh. He’s the talent.”
He shakes his head at me as he rapidly searches my face. “Fuck. Eric hasn’t told you anything, has he? That’s why you weren’t at the meeting with the label this afternoon. What a fucking shitty thing to do, keeping you shut out as always.”
Meeting? What meeting? And I can’t help but wonder if this is what Eric’s been hiding from me, what’s got him so on edge lately. That there really are problems for my brother with the label and it’s not merely Hugh running his mouth. It would be like Eric not to reach out for my help and try to fix things on his own.
Christ. There seems to be a lot going on with Eric’s life I don’t know about. I certainly didn’t know about any meeting with the label today and Hugh wouldn’t be this intense if it hadn’t gone badly for Eric.
Way to leave a brother flying blind. And, fuck, he should’ve known I’d back him up any way I could. But whatever’s going down no way I’m discussing it first with Hugh. “I’m not shut out of anything, Hugh. Because where I stand should be clear to everyone.”
“Are you saying if Eric’s out, you’re quitting?” he asks too in my face for my taste.
“Try paying attention. What I’m saying is if Eric’s out there’s no band. Not for any of us. Not happening. Nothing could make me do my brother wrong that way. And it’s flat out wrong, Hugh, to cut him out since he’s your friend and the one who’s made us what we are. Fuck, you used to know shit like that without me having to tell you.”
Hugh flushes and his body puffs up taut with anger. “Here’s what I know, E. He’s also the one fucking things up for everyone. Even you, and you’re too blind to see it. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“I don’t know why you think I should,” I snap, losing a measure of my always cool temper with Hugh. The last thing I want to do is get in a pissing match with him in front of a packed, gawking room. This place is the center of the music industry’s gossip hub on the west coast.
Fuck, this story is going to hit online by morning. It’s amazing it hasn’t already with how Hugh’s been flapping his gums. To everyone, no doubt, since he’s gone so far as to attempt to plant stories with Avery and it should have been obvious to him it was never going to get him anywhere with her. She’s got too much integrity for that.
We square off with our stares and Hugh looks away first. “I get the loyalty thing to your brother. Don’t think I don’t. But don’t you think you should have some loyalty to the guys, too?”
I shake my head at him because he won’t let it go when everything about my expression and posture should have told him I’m done with this. “Someone has gotta keep you guys from doing something stupid. Christ, it’s the last performance of the tour. Can you just lighten up, man, for one day? Can’t you stow your ego for one night? This used to be about making music, hanging with our friends, and having fun. Now all any of you guys seem to care about is fucking over Eric. I just want to make some music and have fun.”
“Whatever you want, E,” Hugh says. “None of us have a problem with you. We never have. That’s not what this is about. Can we forget this and move on?”
He pins me with his eyes, and I can tell he’s wondering if we’re cool or not. I hate that I can’t tell if this is sincere or part of his next move to undermine Eric. But I decide to err on the side of friendship, because we’ve been friends since elementary school, and I’m not changing it unless the guys do something that forces me to.
“It’s already forgotten,” I assure him, and a cautious smile replaces the tight line of his lips.
He chuckles. “Then why are we standing here without drinks in our hands? The booth is crowded, but I’m sure we can make room. Fuck, we’ll push another table together if we can’t.”
He juts his chin the direction of the guys for us to follow him.
Avery faces me and puts her hands on my chest. “No chance we’re sitting with the guys today, Ethan. Remember, this is our first date. No crowded table. No band. No shop talk. Just me. A girl must have standards in this. Hugh and the guys? Not happening.”
She smiles sweetly, batting her eyelashes, but I know this is her having my back and giving me a neat way out from another scene with Hugh.
Correction. A great fucking out that I’m all for. I run a hand through my hair and grin. “Don’t worry. No way I’m passing on that. Catch up with you guys later, Hugh.”
I loop my arm around her shoulders, easing her into me, and Hugh’s mouth drops. “Wait. When did this happen? You’re a couple now?”
His voice shoots fresh anger through me because that wasn’t asked in the way a guy does when he’s happy for his friend. And it may be trivial with all that’s gone down, but that pisses me off the most. Because Hugh and I are tight, and I told him a long time ago how I felt about Avery.
Christ, how did things get so fucked up? I can almost see the wheels spinning in his head. It’s like he’s wondering how long we’ve been together, and if this is why Avery hasn’t printed the stories against Eric he’s been giving her. I bet he’s even wondering what this means to whatever he’s trying to maneuver behind my brother’s back because Avery has a powerful platform and knows how to use it.
I consider how to answer—briefly. “Yep. We are.” And I brush past him, leaving him to wonder about that and whatever else he wants.
Fuck him.
“Is it too late for me to remind you we’re a long way from being a couple?” Avery whispers in my ear. “Hell, you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”
My brows lift, not certain if she’s joking. “I’ve bought you lots of dinners.”
“Not the same thing,” she points out. “Not when we say good night and each go home alone afterward. That officially makes it not a date. It makes it sharing a meal.”
Still not sure if this is playful banter or something more serious, I decide to continue as if she’s being flirty. “Does it count if I go home and think of you?”
“Did you used to go home and think of me?”
“Yes, every time. Do they count as quasi-dates now?”
She crinkles her nose. “No. Not if I didn’t think of you afterward.”
I pause at the table to gape at her. “You didn’t think of me, not even once? Ever?”
She shakes her head and I feel my mood dip lower. Then the sparkle sneaks into her eyes. “Had you going, didn’t I, mister? Yep, I thought of you. Lots—” Heavy emphasis on lots to rib me more. “—but I was usually able to push you from my mind fast and sleep.”
Her spirited expression makes me smirk. “Then I’ll have to work better at being less forgettable.”
“You should put not being overly confident on the list, also,” she suggests in a helpful way. “You’ve pushed all your chips into the center of the table the first hand—or I should say the first date. You’ve told your friends we’re a couple. Not a very guy thing to do. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I might decide in the morning this was a mistake and I don’t like you.”
I rub my jaw as if considering that and, fuck, does in the morning sound good. Enough that I feel a twitch behind my zipper. “You might decide that it wasn’t a mistake and you do like me.”
It’s then I notice the hostess watching us and gesture for Avery to sit. She plops down into our booth, bounces over to leave me a spot beside her, and takes a menu. “True. But that’s going to take some work. I don’t want you thinking I’m a done deal or anything.”
“I’m positive I can put in as much effort as you need me to,” I taunt as I slip across the red leather until our sides fully touch and my arm’s behind her on the top of the seat.
Her eyes follow the hostess until she leaves our table. “I can help you make a really good effort if you let me,” she promises, turning her upper body into me and making me wonder what this is about.
She waits expectantly with her adorable impish expression for my consent. “Won’t pass on that offer either.”
Then she surprises me by kissing her way along my jaw before placing her thumbs on my eyebrows to lightly stroke my forehead.
As nice as this feels, I preferred the kisses, and the point of this escapes me. “What are you doing?”
“Shush. Close your eyes.”
I hold back my smile, and when I close my eyes she traces across my lids, my brow, and between my nose. She keeps at it so long I’m certain what she’s doing looks odd, even in here, but, whoa, does her touch gets my body clear of the debris of Hugh’s petty shit, laser focused on her, and the blood gushing through my veins—and elsewhere—again. “Where did you learn to do that? Do you study the art of Chinese acupressure in your spare time?”
“Shush.”
Her mouth close to my ear makes me shiver and her breasts massaging my arm with the moves of her fingers fill me with raw hunger.
“Forget, Hugh. Forget your brother. Forget the band. Forget the problems. Think only of me and—” She grazes the side of my neck with her lips. “And how good it’s going to feel when I touch you everywhere. This is our night, Ethan. I want our first date to be one I remember forever. Forget everything else. Tell me when you’ve forgotten so we can restart our date.”
“I don’t have to forget, Avery.” I open my eyes to find her face a whisper from mine. “I can’t think of anything but you when you’re with me.” My hand cups behind her neck, pulling her mouth toward mine, because not kissing her is no longer an option.