Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“There was no fucking love triangle!” He threw his hands in the air. “We agreed we weren’t going to bring up any of this again when we started Scratch Records. The last thing we need is some reporter deep-diving into that crap. When did Charlie tell you about Petra?”
“It wasn’t just me. He told us at the ‘meeting of the bands’ you missed. I’m surprised Justin didn’t mention it.”
Tegan rubbed his stubbled jaw thoughtfully. “Oh, so that’s what he meant.”
“Huh?”
“Whatever. You said Xena called you and mentioned an interview. Do you think she was talking about Petra?”
“I have no idea.” I held my hands up in surrender. “I know as much as you do. I’ve been busy in the studio, and I avoid Xena like the plague. Charlie pointed out Petra earlier tonight and mentioned something about doing a major spread for us while we’re on tour. And then he said, and I quote, ‘Be friendly to her.’ That’s what I was doing at the bar before you showered her in vodka.”
“You told her we grew up together,” he accused. “We don’t talk about that to anyone!”
“Well, we should. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have her write about our Lego marathons than speculate about our love lives. See? I’m a genius.” I tapped my temple.
Tegan rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Gypsy Coma anymore. To anyone. Ever.”
“That makes two of us.” I unscrewed the water bottle with more vigor than necessary and took a healthy swig. I let silence seep between us. One of his neighbors had their music cranked. I frowned when I realized it was the Stones’ classic, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Isn’t that the fucking truth? I rested my knee on the sofa as I shifted to face him and blurted, “In case you’re curious…I didn’t like sharing you.”
He squinted. “What are you talking about?”
I’d just cracked open my insides and was sitting there with a gaping wound, but I shrugged nonchalantly. Nothing to see here, folks.
“That night. The night Xena and I walked in on you and Justin…I was jealous. I hated the idea of you and Justin together. Xena either suspected that I had a thing for you or she wanted a witness. I didn’t knowingly walk in on you. I know she told you I set you guys up…like I was some evil mastermind. That’s not true. Trust me. I didn’t want to see it. And in spite of what you think, I didn’t tell anyone. My crime was that I let it spin. I could have downplayed it or even denied it.…”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, but it wasn’t malicious. I just needed space. I wanted to forget about it. I had no idea it would turn into a fucking nightmare.”
Tegan furrowed his brow. “I’m sure Xena was responsible for the publicity part of it. She’s a snake. What I don’t get is why you chose her side afterward. You joined her band, for fuck’s sake.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I got painted as a pariah just like you did. You and Justin wouldn’t talk to me. And I couldn’t book any gigs on my own, so I waited it out for—”
“For the publicity.”
“For my shot at a second chance.”
“Hmph.” He sucked in a breath and then frowned as if he’d just recalled a niggling detail. “What did you mean about ‘having a thing for me’? Is that code for ‘I hired a hit man’?”
“Ha. Ha. It means I wanted…you.”
“Me? No way,” he snorted.
“It’s true. You were mine first, and I hated sharing your friendship and your time. I hated being the guy on the outside when I’d always been the one on the inside. And yeah, that sounds stupid and childish, but…it’s the truth.”
Tegan cocked his head. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that, but—”
“Nothing. It would just be nice to start over.”
“That’s pretty much impossible. We know way too much about each other.”
“It’s not all bad, you know,” I huffed.
“The sex is hot,” he conceded. “It was always hot. Maybe we should stick to what we’re good at.”
“Are you proposing a fuck-buddies arrangement?” I deadpanned. “We tried that once. It didn’t work out well.”
“We were twenty-one. Of course it didn’t work out.”
I smiled at the memory of the dark bar, the sound of laughter over the strains of a Korn song, and the smell of spilled beer and strong perfume. My new band had just played at a local dive in Long Beach and I was high as a fucking kite. The adrenaline, vodka, and weed combo made me feel omnipotent. Two girls were hanging on my every word. One of them kept putting her hand on my junk. I was two seconds away from suggesting we take our chances in a bathroom stall or something classy like that, when T showed up.