“Doesn’t matter.” Jacob jabs his finger in my direction. “Here’s the problem. You think you’re too sophisticated to be associated with something like that but that’s what this band was all about when we started. It’s exactly what we need to reclaim our street cred.”
“Sophisticated?” There’s something I’ve never been accused of before.
“Back in the day, you would’ve been in there, dick in hand, slick and ready to fuck your girl. Out of all of us, you were the biggest gutter rat.”
Even at the dirtiest points of my life, I don’t think I would’ve been eager to record myself in the act and slap it on an album. “Let me guess, you’re fucking high. Again.”
The room’s silent. It’s the first time I’ve had to call Jacob out in front of everyone since we got sober.
“Don’t act all saintly now that you’re squeaky clean. All our heroes were high when they created their masterpieces.”
“It would create buzz for the EP.” Garrett seems to be putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as humanly possible in an effort to stop Jacob and I from coming to blows. “We’re already worried sales will be slow because it’s not a full-length record. We can plant the rumor that ‘Queen of the Road’ has live orgasms mixed in. Everyone will buy a copy to find out if it’s true. Think about all the publicity you two have already gotten. People will go nuts when they find out they can listen to Mallory Dove’s orgasm noises.”
Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Mallory’s moved behind me, her fingers curled into my belt loops, hanging on tight.
Jacob peers around my side. “What’s the big deal, Mal? We’re not, like, gonna watch or anything. We’ll all leave if it makes you more—”
This has gone on long enough. I slap my hand against his chest, pushing him back. “Don’t talk to her.”
“Why so shy now? We’ve all heard you two go at it like animals for months.”
I curl my fists, ready to knock Jacob the fuck out.
“Come on, Jacob. That’s enough. Drop it,” Alvin says. “This isn’t cool.”
“Guys, this EP is killer,” Tony says, dipping his toes back into the conversation. “And EPs sell. Bloody Revolver’s last one entered the charts at number five. What you guys did here is better than anything they’ve ever recorded. You won’t need some cheap rumor to sell it.”
“It’s not cheap,” Jacob argues. “It’s bold and artistic.”
“Oh-kay.” Tony rolls his eyes and strolls out of the room.
Poor bastard. This isn’t what he signed up for. How did things snowball out of control so fast?
“Let’s do it now.” Jacob jumps up and claps his hands. “We can have it done and ready to—”
“No. I’m not discussing this further.”
“Fine!” Jacob throws his hands in the air. “I’ll find someone else to do it, but it won’t have the same emotional meaning to it that Mallory would give.”
What the fuck ever that’s supposed to mean.
“The song’s fine without any theatrics. Let’s leave it alone,” Alvin pleads.
“Sure.” Jacob’s gaze skips to the now-dark live room, and I don’t exactly trust him when he says, “Then it’s a wrap.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Mallory
A coating of ickiness lingers on my skin after leaving the studio.
Outside on the sidewalk, Chaser rests his hands on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, little dove. You know I’d never ask you to do something like that.”
“I don’t understand why Jacob would think I’d want to.”
“He’s been watching too much porn, I guess.”
“I may not be an expert, but the song already sounded so good. I can’t imagine adding some moaning and groaning will elevate it.”
“It won’t. I don’t even know where he came up with such a stupid idea.”
“Hey,” Alvin calls out, jogging down the sidewalk to catch up to us. “Andrew called looking for us. He wants to meet up at Pogo’s Deli to celebrate. You up for it?”
Chaser raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. “Why not.”
After the deli, we somehow end up back at our place with Andrew in tow.
He bops around our apartment, checking out everything from our bathroom to my bedroom closet. “Oh, man, this reminds me so much of my first place. You guys are way neater though.”
“Go, sit.” I shoo him out of our bedroom. “Chaser has something for you to listen to.” And I don’t want to leave him alone anywhere near my underwear drawer.
The phone rings, and I hurry to answer, pulling it into the kitchen to blunt the noise the guys are making out in the living room.
“Mallory?” Audrey’s weak voice has me pressing the phone to my ear harder.
“Audrey? What’s wrong?”
“I’m at…I’m at the hospital. Can you come pick me up?”
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.” She gives me the address. Unfortunately, I have no idea where it is and no way to get there, but I promise to pick her up and ask her to wait for me.