The chick in his living room was taking a selfie next to his gold record. Pike leaned back, watching her through his half-open bedroom door. “Fantastic.”
“What’s fantastic?” his friend Gibson asked on the other end of the line. “Did you even hear what I said?”
“No, I didn’t. And what’s fantastic is that I have a seriously hot B-list actress in my living room, who was all kinds of cool after the show tonight but is now snapping duckface selfies in front of my shit.”
Gibson snorted a laugh. “At least she’s not using you just for your body.”
“That I’d be okay with. But this …”
“Hey, if there’s no selfie for proof, the event never happened. At least that’s what my niece tells me. It’s like a tree falling in the woods.”
Pike sighed. “Observation: Duckface is a friend to no one.”
The longer Pike watched, the more he regretted his decision to bring this woman home with him. He’d been buzzing off the energy of the performance tonight and had wanted to keep that feeling going. Darkfall had kicked ass on stage and had impressed the promoters who were putting together some of this summer’s biggest tours. If Darkfall landed a sweet opening
spot with some big-time band, they’d have a chance to recapture some of the traction they’d lost when their lead singer had taken extended time off between albums to get surgery on his vocal cords. In some ways, tonight felt like a rebirth of the band, and he wanted to celebrate.
And usually the only thing more exciting than pounding the drums, making thousands of fans scream, was making just one scream. But as he watched his date take another photo of herself, he was losing his enthusiasm for his plan.
Maybe a chill night at home with the dog would’ve been a better idea.
Monty barked from somewhere in the living room, protesting the fact that Pike hadn’t given him his requisite belly rub and dog biscuit when he’d come home. He’d been too busy pouring a drink for his guest.
“What’s her name?” Gib asked.
Pike scrubbed a hand through his damp hair. “Why does that matter?”
“Come on, tell me that you’re not that big of a dick and you remember her name.”
Pike grimaced at Gib’s tone. This is what he got for hanging out with businessman types instead of fellow musicians. The suits had a different code of conduct. With the guys in his band, remembering names was only expected after you slept with someone. Luckily, Pike’s memory was good. “Lark Evans.”
“All right. Hold on a sec.” The clicking of a keyboard sounded on the other end.
“Gib, look, can we talk about whatever you were calling for tomorrow? I’m ignoring my company.” He walked away from the door and dropped the towel from around his waist to pull on a fresh pair of well-worn jeans. “I told her I’d only be in the shower for a minute.”
“Ha! I knew it,” Gibson said, triumph in his voice.
“What?”
“Your girl’s on Instagram. And guess what pics are making their way around the world as we speak?”
Pike sighed.
“Damn, she is hot, though,” Gibson said. “Duck lips notwithstanding.”
“Which is why—”
“Ah, shit. You’re gonna love this. Wait for it … Caption to the pic: Hanging out with Spike, the drummer from Darkfall! Hashtag: hawt.”
“Hold up. Spike?”
Gibson burst into laughter. “Spike! Man, she doesn’t even know your name. How very rock star of her.”
Pike looked to the ceiling, letting that sink in. Karma was a fucking bitch. “You are totally ruining my hard-on here.”
“Now don’t kid. I know my deep, brooding voice makes you hot,” Gib said. “Want me to talk dirty to you, Spikey?”
Pike grinned. “So it’s finally happened. You’re going gay for me. I’m flattered. Of course, it was inevitable. I mean, have you seen me? But I hate to break your heart, Gib, I only play for one team.”