The sun scorches my skin as me and Jag make our way past the Beverly Hills shops. A few girls pass by, snapping pictures with their phones and giggling. That kind of shit used to give me a rush of adrenaline– someone noticed me, they know me, they know our music… Now, it’s just par for the course. An invasion of privacy. Annoying. Shit, I’m starting to sound like Jag.

“I’ve gotta talk to James. That girl cannot go on tour with us,” Jag says, opening the door to the restaurant.

“She bothers you that much?”

“Fuck yeah.” We stop at the hostess stand. She smiles and escorts us through the restaurant and out onto the patio. “That girl–,” he continues, “I can’t take her.” He pulls out the wrought iron chair and sits down.

She’s not that bad, but fuck if I’m going to try and convince him of that. He pops open his menu. I grab my mine and skim-read over the items. A few seconds later, Jag tosses his menu down and props his elbow on the table, staring at me. “I know what needs to happen.”

“What?” I ask.

“You need to fuck her.”

“What? No.” I think about her ass in those tight jeans. I would fuck her, damn would I fuck her, but I don’t want Jag telling me I need to fuck her. Takes the fun right out of fucking.

“She’ll shut up if you poke her.”

“That makes no sense,” I say.

He arches a brow. “Fuck her, man.” He pretends to grab a pair of legs and spread them before thrusting his hips out of the chair over and over like the Energizer Bunny on meth.

I would fuck her, but that would just be a train wreck because what happens when we’re on tour together? I’m not even touching that. “Man, I’m not fucking her, you fuck her–”

“I’m too much of a dick. A girl like that will only rage fuck me to ruin my reputation.”

“Jag,” I snort, “your reputation is one giant shit stain, you do realize that?”

He grins. “Just stick your dick in her.” I grab the fork from the table and launch it at him. Jag rolls his eyes before his gaze drifts over my shoulder. “Everywhere you go…” He shakes his head, and I turn around in my seat.

Phoenix is at a table across the patio with– “What the, is that Jimmy Rage?”

“Yeah,” Jag snorts, “it is.”

She’s all cuddled up at the table with Rage. He says something and she laughs. My eyes drop to the low-cut neckline of her dress. “Fuck, Harvey was hitting on her the night before last, and now… Has she no morals?” I joke.

“She’s a cock climber. Fucking hate girls like that.” He glances at me. “I take it back, don’t fuck her. Don’t let her use your cock as the next rung on the ladder.”

I shake my head. “Fucking Jimmy Rage and his pruney dick…”

“Oh, fuck you!” Jag points at her as he leans back in his seat. I turn back around to find her flipping us a bird and Rage cackling his ass off before he grabs her hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses over her knuckles. “Can’t do this shit,” Jag says. “James is just going to have to figure something out.”

I watch Phoenix and Rage stand from the table. His arm goes around her shoulder before they walk off. No shame. She has no shame at all. When I turn around, Jag’s digging a bag of coke from his pocket.

“You really need to do that at 10 in the morning?” I eye his fist the baggie is now balled up in.

“No.” He pushes up from the table. “But I want to.” And he heads inside the restaurant.

There’s a crowd gathering outside the fenced in patio, cameras flashing as Phoenix and Jimmy walk down the sidewalk. A cock climber, huh? I watch her walk off, her ass shaking from side to side as she struts alongside Jimmy, and my cock swells just enough, like he’s asking if I’m up for the challenge.

I’m a guy.

I’m always up for the challenge. Phoenix… and I don’t even know her last name. The fact that I even care. Wow. What the fuck is going on here? It’s usually wham, bam, thank you ma’am. And here I am wondering what her last name is. Aw, fucking hell. This is not good for a rock star, so I order another drink and pretend I didn’t just wonder what her last name is.

Jag grabs a beer from the fridge in his studio and tosses it to me. I catch it, pop the tab, and take a swig.

“Dude,” Rush glances at his phone. “So, the redhead I had all bowed up at Danger’s house the other night,” he snorts, “she’s friends with Phoenix.”

“And?” Jag says, tuning his guitar.

“Guess what her friend told me?”

Jag shoots a blank stare at Rush. “That you have a Vienna Sausage dick?”

“Fuck you.” Rush grabs a drumstick from Pax’s hand and hurls it at Jag, smacking him right on the forehead.

“You fucker!” Jag shouts.

“Nah, dude,” Rush grins and glances from me to Jag to Pax. “She’s Henry Edwards daughter or stepdaughter or some shit.”

“What?” we all say in unison, and Rush just nods, laughing before he takes a sip from his beer.

“Oh, fuck no!” Jag says, pacing with his guitar in hand. “Fuck that. It’s bullshit! I knew it was some crooked-ass shit like that. I knew it! And James…” Jag’s face is red. “I can’t believe this shit? What are we supposed to do?” Jag is literally about to blow his lid over this.

“Uh,” I say, “just record the damn song and move on?”

“And then tour with her?” Jag stares at me, one eye twitching.

“Yeah…”

“Bro, you want to tour with Henry Edwards fucking daughter? Every move we make, she’ll be watching us. Every fucking breath we take–”

“She’ll be watching us,” Rush sings.

I take a sip of beer and grab my guitar from the stand. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh no!” Jag says. He comes storming toward me. “Don’t you even think about it now.”

“Think about what?”

“Fucking her.”

I toss my hands in the air. “Wasn’t thinking about it, man. Don’t worry.”

“You can’t shove your dick in Edward’s daughter. That’s just asking to have our label ripped and crammed right up our own asses.”

“Okay…”

And then Jag continues to pace and rant and pace and rant, and do a line and rant. Ten minutes later, Rush checks his watch. “She’s late.”

Pax taps over the drums. “I got somewhere to be.”

“Where the hell are you going, Paxton?” Rush says. “Got a date with a pocket pussy?” He grins, holds his hands together, and pretends to pound away.

Just then, the light signaling someone at the gate glows red. Jag snatches his beer from the top of the fridge, grumbling as he makes his way out of the recording room.

Part of me feels a little guilty for us being so pissed over the situation, but the thing is, our music is our art, and being forced to let another person intrude on that, well, it’s a pain in the ass. And, she is abrasive as fuck.

I take another gulp of beer. Rush pulls a joint from behind his ear, pinches it between his lips, lights it, and takes a toke, choking as he inhales, then passes it to me. I take a long drag, letting the pungent smoke fill my lungs before I hand it off to Pax.

By the time Jag and Phoenix come in, the entire studio has been hot-boxed. When the door opens a thick cloud of smoke rolls into the hall. Jag sucks the smoke in, and Phoenix coughs, snarling as she waves the haze out of her face.

“Jesus,” she groans. She struts in with these tight jeans and a tight black tank. The way her guitar is slung over her shoulder is sexy as hell. There’s a slight tick to her jaw, and for some reason, I find her nearly irresistible when she’s angry. It’s cute.

“Alright,” I say, still dragging my gaze over her body. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I mean…” Be a dick. Be a dick. Be a dick… “I’m just trying to figure out why you are so fucking ungrateful.”

Jag laughs and Rush says Amen while strapping his bass over his shoulder.

She strums over her guitar and glares at me. “It’s not ungrateful. It’s called not being stupid.”

“And just what the hell does that mean?” Jag says, snatching the mic from the stand.

“It means, guys like you— I give you an inch and you’ll fuck me up the ass.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Rush claps his hand. “Fucking up the ass!”

“I mean,” I say, “wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re Edward’s daughter, huh? Chip on your shoulder. Entitlement.”

She glares at me, her cheeks slowly turning red. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Seriously?” Jag butts in. “We busted our asses to get where we are. At least we earned this. You on the other hand, fucking ridiculous. People like you give the industry a bad name. “Oh look,” Jag does his best girly voice, “my daddy’s the owner of Deviant Fault. I’m cute. I’m pretty. I can sing. Daddy? Give me a record deal.” He stomps his foot like an angry toddler. “Now Daddy. Now!” He grins. “Is that how it went?”

“Fuck my life right now,” she groans, dropping her chin to her chest. “Look, we don’t have to like each other. This is business and that’s it, right?”

None of us say a thing.

“And just to clear shit up,” she continues. “He’s not my father. He’s my mom’s third husband, okay?”

Jag mumbles before strumming over his guitar. “Whatever.” He thumbs under his nose. “Let’s just nail the song and you can be on your merry fucking way.”

She nods and Pax taps out the beat on the drums. I join in, then Rush and Jag. I watch her. I watch the way her fingers glide over her strings, the way her eyes close when she opens her lips to sing. She loses herself in the music, shaking her head slightly. Rocking her hips. She grabs the stand and wraps her fingers around it, her mouth nearly brushing the mic. Then, she bites down on her red lips. Fuck, it’s hot.

When the song’s over, she glances at me again. Our eyes lock for the briefest of moments and her gaze falls to my lips.

“So,” Jag steps between us, “how do you know Jimmy?”

“Friend of a friend,” she says.

“Huh. You fucking him and his shitbag son?” Jag says.

“What,” Pax pipes in from the back of the room, “she knows Jimmy?”

“Shut up, Paxton,” Jag grumbles.

Phoenix cocks a brow. “Wow, you guys have a hard on for him or something?”

Jag smirks. “Guess having Daddy Warbucks hook you up wasn’t enough, gotta go wrapping your hungry little cunt around Jimmy’s dirty old pole.”

“Jag…” I start, “just lay off her, would you?” Jag shoots a nasty glare at me.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes and slings her guitar over her shoulder. “I’m going.”

Jag shrugs, stepping to the side to let her out. “Don’t snag any of my shit either.”

She doesn’t respond. Jag glances at me and grins. “Man, I can see your cock swelling from here,” he says.

It’s her attitude. Her no shit demeanor. Her… ass. Shit. “Shut up, you were telling me to fuck her yesterday.”

“Well, that was before I knew she was Edward’s daughter. You know, when I thought she was just some super slut, and the worst fallout you might suffer would be some green shit coming out of the tip of your dick.”

I glare at him before I brush past him and through the door. Phoenix is already at the end of the hall. “Hey, Phoenix, wait a second.” She keeps walking. Of course she fucking does. “Jesus Christ, would you wait a second?”

She gets to the living room before she spins around. “What? Want to give me some shit, too?”

“No.” I stop in front of her. “Just… fuck them, okay?”

“Oh god, the rocker in shining armor?” She shakes her head. “Look, I appreciate it, I do, but I don’t need your sympathy, okay? I know better.”

“Know better?” What the hell is up her ass?

“Yes. I know better. I just… It’s not my fault he’s my stepdad. I think he’s an asshole if it makes you feel any better, and I begged him not to make me sing with you guys.”

“Okay…”

“I just want to get done with the song and move the fuck along.” She starts toward the door.

God, she’s angry and volatile, but I get it. This industry makes us all angry little fucks. “For what it’s worth,” I say as she opens the door, “I think you would have made it regardless, you got a voice, babe. You got a voice.”

I watch her shoulders rise and fall. “Thanks,” she whispers before she steps out and slams the door shut behind her.

I stand in silence, staring at the door. Thinking. Wondering. Mesmerized… maybe.

“Stone and Phoenix sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Rush sings from the hallway.

I turn around with a laugh. “Jesus, you better be glad you’re famous, or your dick would never get any use because you are fucking stupid.”

“Dude, you’re going to poke her in the bear cave,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

And I suddenly feel like I’m right back to 7^th grade when I had a crush on Penny.