Wreck (Sphere of Irony 4)

“It was a great set,” I agree.

I lean back in the booth at the club we played tonight, scanning the room. The itchy, bugs under my skin feeling I get sometimes is back and I need a release. I’m too worn out to do anything dangerous to get the rush of adrenaline that quiets my mind, so I’m left to find a girl to burn off energy with. Preferably someone hot who doesn’t mind a quick fuck in the back room.

My eyes land on Kate and her friend, Abby. Because I’m a guy, horny, and she’s beyond attractive, I check out Abby’s body. Fuck. I have to adjust my dick as my gaze drifts down to her perfect, tight ass, followed by long, tan legs that go on forever. She’s gorgeous, wavy blonde hair, petite nose, big blue eyes, and athletic looking. The ultimate California girl. Which is usually an instant turnoff for me, what with my last experience with shallow California girls being nothing less than horrific.

She might look the part, but after speaking with Abby backstage before the show, I found her to be completely unlike any of the girls I grew up with. She’s kind, friendly, and smiles a lot. Missing is the gossipy bitching, the sneers, the “better than y

ou” attitude that usually accompanies such stunning physical beauty. In fact, the only thing I could think while shaking hands with her was mine.

Problem is, she’s way too good for me. Plus, with her being Kate’s friend, I don’t want to ruin anything and piss off Dax and Kate by sticking my dick in Abby and inevitably turning around and treating her like shit. Which is exactly what I’d do. I’m too fucked up to actually date her. Too damaged to let anyone close.

The only one who knows everything about my past is Gavin, and that’s only because I met him right after the accident when Ross had me treated at an inpatient psychiatric ward for teens. Gavin was there for his own reasons. Reasons that make me want to beat the shit out of his pile of crap, homophobic father. Group therapy sucked ass, but it brought me my best friend and let me tell him my history without having to actually say it to him one on one.

“Evans! Did you hear a single word I said?” Gavin’s voice plus the sharp elbow he jabs in my side tears my mind away from my wandering thoughts and my eyes from Abby’s ass.

“What?” I turn to face Gavin, who is glaring at me.

“We were talking about what Ross said earlier. Maybe booking some gigs in other cities.”

“Oh. Sure, whatever you guys decide is fine with me.” Like I ever have anything to add to the business end of conversations. I pick up my drink and take a long swig, my eyes finding their way back over to Abby. When I catch sight of her, my hand falters, and I nearly mimic Adam by spilling my beer everywhere.

Abby isn’t where I last saw her. Now she’s over by the bar, chatting with some asshole, preppy, frat-boy type who keeps finding excuses to touch her arm, her hand, her waist. Inexplicably aggravated, I slam my glass onto the table and dig my fingers into my jeans.

Mine!

The word echoes loud and clear in my mind, causing me to grip my glass so tight my knuckles hurt. What the fuck? Since when do I give a shit what girls do and who they do it with?

I’m too far away and it’s too loud to hear Abby laugh, but I’m riveted as she reveals two rows of perfect white teeth. Her tousled blonde hair spills around her stunning face, causing a few pieces to stick to her full lips. She casually swipes them away with a brush of her fingers. When preppy douchebag raises his hand and tucks some of Abby’s hair behind her ear, I nearly lose it.

“Whoa, dude,” Gavin whispers in my ear. “What the hell has gotten into you? You look like you want to kill someone.”

Fuck. I can’t do this to myself. I’m already on edge from all the other dark shit in my head, and now I’m on the verge of freaking the fuck out over a girl I just met. Abby is not my problem. What she does or doesn’t do with frat-boy is not my problem. Getting involved with her would ruin her life a thousand times worse than frat-boy simply fucking and chucking her.

Deep breath. Relax. “Nothing’s gotten into me. Just looking for a hookup.”

“Let me help you out.” Gavin smirks, using his drink to point across the room. “That girl has been eyeing you all night long.”

I follow his gesture and find a cute little brunette in an even smaller outfit. She’s wearing too much makeup and her breasts are most definitely fake, but Gavin’s one hundred percent right. The brunette is staring directly at me with a “fuck me” look written plainly on her face.

Without breaking eye contact with the girl, I finish my beer and put the glass down. “Hey. How did you notice her?” I nudge Gavin. “You’re gay. Shouldn’t you be looking for men?”

He chuckles. “Check behind her left shoulder.”

I flick my gaze up and see a tall, muscular man with dark hair and day-old stubble doing the exact same thing as the girl, only his eyes are fixed on my best friend. I huff, laughing at Gavin. “No wonder you noticed her.”

“Exactly.” Gavin laughs with me.

“Well, I’ll see you guys in a few,” I announce, desperate to take my mind off of Abby and the groping dickbag she’s chatting with. Adam and Dax wave me off, continuing their conversation, which, from the looks of things, is more of an argument. The usual, Dax angry at Adam for being shitfaced during our set…again.

I stand up and make my way over to greet the brunette. It’s almost too easy. All it takes is a brief introduction, the mention of a private room backstage, and that’s it. She lets me tow her through the crowd by the hand. As we pass by the bar, I can’t help but take one last glance at Abby, to find I’m still inexplicably angry at frat-boy for touching her. The douche in question, however, is nowhere to be found. Abby and Kate are talking, heads together, while sipping their cocktails.

Abby lifts her head and our eyes meet for a brief moment before her gaze shifts behind me to the brunette. Holy shit. I actually feel ashamed when I detect a flicker of hurt in Abby’s sky blue eyes, like I’m a bigger douchebag than the frat-boy.

Eager to be out of Abby’s line of sight, I hustle the girl whose name I forgot two seconds after she said it through the backstage door and push her into the dressing room. Without a word being exchanged, she drops to her knees, unzips my pants, and swallows my cock whole. As the girl sucks me off, moaning and making a big show of it, all I can think about is the hurt in Abby’s eyes. Abby, who probably hates me now that she’s seen my idea of a date.

My climax approaches, the pleasure building in my balls, ready to release at any moment. I shove Abby out of my mind at the last second. It’s better that she hates me. The orgasm rips through me and I clutch the girl’s head, roughly thrusting into her mouth, coming forcefully down her throat. I should feel good, but all I feel is like a complete jackass for hurting Abby.

I’m tucked and zipped before the brunette can get to her feet. “Thanks.” I hurry out, leaving her on her knees, scowling.