“Whisky a Go-Go.” I reply, holding my smile. She leans forward in her seat abruptly, a megawatt smile forming on her lips.
“Get the fuck out of here.” She yells, excitement beaming off of her, “are you serious?”
“Yupp.” I nod. Whisky a Go-Go is on the Sunset Strip, it’s a shithole place, but all the best bands play there when they’re in town. It’s been the plan all along to start our tour there, Alex’s idea from months ago.
“I’ve never played there.” Bristol says, bouncing in her seat. Her excitement is contagious, and we all smile giddily. “Have you guys?”
“A couple times.” Boston says, shrugging nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal that we can book a place like that on a whim. It’s amazing how far we’ve come, I’m so damn proud.
“Holy hell, I’m so excited.” She squeals. I have another surprise for her, but she will have to wait until tomorrow to find out what that is.
After an hour in traffic, the car finally pulls into the driveway of our home. Bristol moves to grab her suitcase from the trunk but I’m quicker. I grip the handle and lug the massive case.
“What did you pack in here? You didn’t have to pack all those articles, ya know? You’ve got the real thing right here.” I shoot her a wink, and she rolls her eyes. I take a step forward into her space, she wants to retreat but doesn’t. “If you need some midnight material, just let me know, babe. I’m all yours.” I whisper in her ear as we turn to make our way to the house. Boston stops just short of the door, his massive frame blocking our entrance. He smiles widely, he’s excited to have Pistol back with us. I thought he was going to lose it when I told him yesterday after I left my mom’s.
“What articles?” he asks, his blue eyes bouncing from me to Bristol. I open my mouth to tell him we’ve got a fan girl situation, but Bristol shoots me an ‘I will murder you and make it look like an accident’ look so I suffice with a smirk.
“I did some research, Rhyit here walked in half way through.” She says, hooking a thumb in my direction.
“By research, she means going through-” a soft hand lands against my mouth, muffling my voice. I smile underneath her hand as her eyes narrow. Sticking my tongue out, I lick her palm, the chemical taste of her perfume or lotion coats my tongue, but the look on her face is well worth the nasty taste.
“Did you just lick me?” She asks, her face turned up in disgust. She removes her hand from my mouth and wipes the spit on my T-shirt.
“I did.” I smile, “you liked it when I did it yesterday.”
“Shut the hell up.” She hisses, looking over her shoulder at Boston. He’s laughing lightly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Boston’s been with us since the beginning, he knows how we are together.
“Boston doesn’t care, babe.” I tell her as we enter the house.
“I do.” She whispers. I don’t know why she cares, it’s not like Boston wouldn’t know when we’re sneaking off after shows. Wait, I hope we’re sneaking off after shows, soaking up every minute of each other that we can. I follow her into the house, her blonde hair sways across her back as she looks around the expansive space. I try to drink in the room through her eyes, the foyer opens up to a massive living room with an open kitchen on one side. Floor to ceiling windows adorn the entire side of the house with a view of the beach below.
“Where am I sleeping?” She asks, turning to Boston and I.
“With me if I have anything to do with it.” I murmur, my voice barely audible.
“You’re so fucked.” Boston whispers, laughing lightly.
“You can sleep in the spare bedroom.” I say, the room is directly across from mine, it’s also storage for all of our extra instruments but that shouldn’t be an issue. We stand there awkwardly, no one making a move towards the room.
“Anyone wanna show me? Maybe draw me a map?” Bristol asks, a cheeky smile on her face.
“I’ll show ya,” Boston says, his eyes lighting up in a dare. He’s pushing me on purpose.
“I’ll show her,” I growl. He lifts both hands in surrender, waiving an imaginary white flag.
“Put the alpha in your pocket and just show me where to put my stuff.” Bristol says, rolling her eyes at our theatrics. I motion for her to follow me, shooting a glare to Boston who tilts his head back with a laugh.Fucker.
Bristol climbs the stairs in front of me, I purposely let her go first so that I could get a front row seat to her ass cheeks in that skirt. The leather makes a swishing sound with every step she takes, and I wonder to myself briefly if she’s wearing underwear.
“Yes, I’m wearing underwear. No you can’t see them.” She announces. It’s scary that she can read my thoughts.
“How do you know I was thinking about your panties? Maybe I was thinking up new song lyrics? Maybe I was thinking about the weather?” I question, my tone laced in thinly veiled sarcasm.
“I can feel your eyes on my ass. So unless you plan on writing a song about my ass, you were wondering about my panties.” She replies as we reach the top of the stairs. She turns slightly, a smirk on her pretty face. “Please don’t write a song about my ass.” She laughs.
“It’s a great ass, people should write songs about it.” I nod, smiling. She knocks my shoulder with hers, her eyes rolling again.
We start down the hallway towards the bedrooms, mine is the master at the end of the hall with Alex’s and Boston’s staggered throughout.