Callum
The longest I’d ever gonewithout speaking a single word was fifteen days. It wasn’t on purpose, not at first. Two or three days had passed before I’d realized, and then I’d wondered how long I could go. I was around people. I was constantly around people back then. On the road, backstage, after-parties. It was just…no one expected much from me. Or nothing, really. And that was what I gave.
By day fifteen, I panicked. Silence had become too comfortable. I walked outside the venue we were playing and screamed the alphabet at the top of my lungs. Just to make sure I still existed. That I could be heard when I wanted to be.
Right now? I wanted to be heard.
I latched onto the back of Adam’s shirt and yanked him down the hall, away from the studio and prying ears.
“What are you playin’ at?” I gritted out.
His eyes flared with innocence. “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re going to have to be specific.”
“Inviting thatgirlto one of Benson’s parties.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I told her no.”
Adam sputtered, laughing me off like he always did. He didn’t take anything seriously. That worked for him. He was a twenty-six-year-old man-child. I’d known him since I joined the band when I was nineteen, and he hadn’t changed one iota. The money got greener, the parties better, the girls more plentiful, but Adam remained constant. A free-wheeling fuckboy.
“You can’t tell her no. I was the one who invited her.”
“Can and did.” My molars ground together. “What are you thinkin’?”
“I’m thinking Wren is cute. She says things like ‘holy granola,’ for fuck’s sake. She’s my type. A little plump, sweet perfection. I could spend the next couple weeks flirting and buttering her up, but why waste my time? I’m taking her to Benson’s. If she’s into it, I’m golden. If she’s not, I’ll send her on her way in a car. No harm, no foul.” His eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck do you care? I gotta say, this is kinda out of character.”
“I don’t want her there.”
This was something I wouldn’t budge on. I rarely went out, never indulged in drugs or had debauched nights of trashing hotel rooms and being captured on film by the paparazzi. Adam and I lived opposite lifestyles, except one thing:
I liked to watch, and he liked to show off.
No surprise Adam was an exhibitionist. He used to bring random groupies back to the van we all traveled, slept, and basically lived in, and fuck them, whether we were all in there or not. And it wasn’t some subtle fucking. It was skin-slapping, moaning, dirty-talking, ass-banging, filthy sex.
Roddy and Iris would run for the hills, and I did too at first. But one time, the girl asked me to stay. Adam gave me the nod, so I did. I watched. I got harder than I ever had in my life.
And a kink was born.
Since those early days, we’d grown up some. The minivan had been traded in for sex clubs and the occasional swinger party. But Adam still liked to fuck with an audience, and my voyeuristic tendencies had flourished.
We didn’t do it often, but it was enough to call it a habit.
A habit I had indulged in more than once at a Benson Martin party. It had been a long time since I’d been to one, but the scene never changed. It was a den of iniquity where voyeurs and exhibitionists came to play.
Adam rubbed the back of his neck, his brow pinching. “Can I ask why you don’t want her to go? You don’t think she’s cute?”
“She’s fine, but I can say with absolute certainty she’s not into what you are.”
Wren was more thanfine as far as that went, and it was true, Adam did have a type. He liked his girls thicker than average, with girl next door faces and soft attitudes. Wren fit that to a T. But like recognized like, and this girl was shy. She was no exhibitionist.
He cleared his throat. “Whatweare.”
I tipped my chin. “Sure. What we are. You know she’ll turn right back around once she sees what kind of party you’ve taken her to.”
“She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do.” He squared his shoulders, preparing to go to battle over this. “You don’t get to decide this. I’m not backing down.”
“Did she say yes?”
He hesitated, tucking his hands in his pockets. He was already backing down. Hedging his bets, so when he inevitably admitted defeat, he could pretend he’d never expected her to say yes in the first place. “Not yet. But she will.”
Iris stuck her head out of the studio door. “Hey. If you’re done with your Girl Scout meeting, it’s time to actually do some work. Get your asses in here, honey bunnies.”