Having sex with Jay was ill-advised, the presumably skimpy towels and possible bedbug infestation aside. It was also one of those memory-making experiences you know you probably shouldn’t do, but can’t resist, like steal a car or making a sex tape.
And she’d made two hard drives, not backed-up, no cloud storage, private-viewing-only sex tapes, so really, what was she worried about?
Teela had wanted to know if she was keeping her heart safe, and in an emotional sense Evie was. She wasn’t giving Jay the intimacy he wanted. Without lip locks they’d have to focus on the specifically genital part of getting down and dirty. Straight to orgasm making, do not pass spit, do not clash tongues, do not look deeply into the other’s eyes.
Why did he want that intimacy anyway? It hardly went with his original idea of hate sex. Come to think of it, did you lip lock during hate sex? Yeah, you probably did, those biting, punishing kinds of kisses that went with a slam-bam style of getting off. There was something she’d have to cross off her bucket list, have genuine hate sex because it looked like Jay, with his goddamn tender, sexy kisses and studied caresses was not going to hold up his end of that bargain.
Typical. Flake. Can’t be trusted.
Eyes back on her phone, she checked on followers and messages. The house band was finishing up, the guys would be here in the next half hour. There was a message from Teela that said Don’t do it. Made her want to headbutt someone. Like the sister she’d never had, Teela knew how to hit where it hurt, because that was Evie’s problem in life. Getting an idea set in her head and good or bad, committing to it with everything she had. That’s how you get two sex tapes and an infraction for stealing a car. She’d known that was a bad idea, but the keys were in the ignition, it was begging for it and she’d put it back where it came from a day later.
Don’t do it.
Don’t permanently alter your body. Don’t be your own boss. Don’t deny your talent and forever disappoint your Dad. Don’t have sex with the last man you can guard your heart against.
The first two of those things had worked out fine, and what were parents for if not to be disappointed in you. Errol eventually got over what he saw as her betrayal of Mum’s legacy. And even if he still harbored thoughts of Evie changing her mind, at least he’d stopped setting her up with agents.
Don’t do it.
With regards to Jay it was good advice.
Fuck you very much, Teela.
And fuck singers who got so shit-faced they couldn’t go on stage. Evie nearly missed the start of the guys’ performance because one of her employees had a problem with the band they managed.
She was outside in the relative quiet of the car park on the phone trying to talk the venue manager out of canceling a two-week booking because of a no-show, arriving inside right on cue to start filming as Abel climbed on the stage.
“Good evening, Grumps. I’m Abel Tice. These are my brothers,” he pointed, “Isaac and Oscar. On the drums, the disastrous Mark Grippen,” Grip played a double rim shot and then kept up a beat. “On rhythm, making a special guest appearance is our old friend, Jay Endicott.” Jay took up Grip’s beat. “For one night only, this is Property of Paradise.”
No reaction. The general noise level didn’t drop, only a few people turned to face the stage. Evie laughed. Abel looked shocked, and Jay wore the most delighted grin, as if not being recognized was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Grip counted them in and as they played the first bars of their biggest hit, awareness began to build. Conversation slowed, faces turned, someone started whistling, a woman screamed. When Abel sang the first line, recognition set in. There was surge of people towards the stage, shouts and cheers. By the time Abel sang the chorus, the whole pub was aware something special was happening.
Perched on the rungs of a stool, Evie captured it all on camera, streaming to a much bigger audience, knowing fans were going insane about Jay being onstage with the guys. She might be going a little insane herself, the music thudding through her body, the excitement around her contagious, and seeing Jay move on stage, addictive.
Don’t do it.
&nbs
p; She’d be dancing with the devil.
Don’t do it.
Even knowing the trouble she’d caused she’d still have stolen that car, still have broken Errol’s heart.
She gave her inner turmoil a flick pass and concentrated on her streaming broadcast, watching viewer numbers climb higher and higher as the performance went off. Her notifications were running hot and her pulse was part of the music, a steady beat inside her body, a thrum that fed upon itself, rolled around in the good time everyone in the room was having and got a little high on the moment.
The guys played a full set, all PoP’s hits, well known to everyone at the Fiddler. They jumped around, they were loud, played tight, they got sweaty. The more they played, the more obvious it was to Evie that the rift between Jay and the band was all but scar free. When Abel motioned for Jay to sing lead she knew all was forgiven.
Men, so fickle. Couldn’t hold a good grudge if you paid ’em to. She’d be angry about that, but she didn’t have room for the emotion, it wasn’t bigger than the sheer enjoyment of watching her guys entertain the hell out of a room full of unsuspecting Saturday night pub goers.
It wasn’t bigger than the throb of lust she felt when she looked at Jay, when over the heads and through the waving arms of the rocking crowd, they made eye contact. The intensity in his eyes might’ve burned her retinas, made her lose her footing and almost drop the camera.
There was a powerful energy in Jay. On stage his height, long legs and lean muscled body, and the way he used it was a deadly shot to the libido. He might play to millions, but he simply loved performing for any audience and that was evident in the way he sparked with electric fervor and entertained with musicianship he’d fought for. She could resent him and admire him in the same instant.
But she couldn’t not do it with him. No matter how bad the idea was. She was committed and besides, his keys were in her ignition.
TEN