Page 5 of Electric Touch

“No, no more group discussions. You’re right, I need to draw a line under it. Move on.”

“Don’t do anything crazy,” he says, opening the door to go back inside. The loud music blasts out at us. “Dylan might think he’s helping throwing groupies your way, but you’re not that kind of guy.”

I scoff, but say nothing. He’s right. I’d been in love with Riley since I was fourteen, and never wanted that to change. She’d been my forever. Too bad I wasn’t hers.

We head inside. I don’t look at Riley, even though I feel her gaze burning into the side of my head.

I rock the rest of the shoot and don’t make a single mistake. I agree to go out for drinks with Jack, Dylan and Alessa. Ciro and Riley go their own way. Declan tells us all to behave but have fun. Riley left without a word to me and I try not to let that burn.

“Come,” Alessa boots my shin, in what she would class as affection. Her accent is stern and abrupt, even when she is speaking normally. “Jordan having party, been harassing me all week.”

“Great,” Dylan rubs his hands together.

Jordan is BreakNeck’s drummer. He lives in a massive apartment in one of the most expensive buildings in NYC. His parties are legendary but exclusive. We’ve been invited before, his exploits are almost as legendary as his parties. Jordan is a good guy, loyal to his band and friends, and funny as fuck. Dylan asks Alessa if she is going to tell him we’re coming.

“Ni.” Alessa often spoke Ukrainian. The no is final and doesn’t require a follow up, but Dylan does so anyway.

“It’s polite to RSVP.”

She arches one eyebrow. It isn’t like Jordan will kick us out. Jack spends the rest of the journey trying to rile Alessa up over Jordan. She stares at him with such a blank look, he calls her ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’. Of course, the movie reference goes over her head, and she gets pissed having to ask.

I scrub at my face and ignore them, resigned to the fact my life is changing. My plans to marry and have kids with Riley are gone, I need a new outlook. Dec is right about playing the field, within reason. I’m still me.

Jumping into a new relationship isn’t the way to go. That doesn’t mean I need to become a monk. Sex with two girls was enlightening, if only for the fact there was double of everything. I didn’t dislike it. I’m a fucking man, after all. It isn’t the same as being in a committed, loving relationship, where sex means more than pleasure.

Shit, there I go again. Women are throwing themselves at me daily, I can take my pick. They don’t want me for anything more than bragging rights or a good time. I’d never been interested in taking anyone up on it. I’m not about to become a player, but I can dip my toe in, so to speak.

Riley asked to keep the breakup quiet. The label agreed because no one wants headlines about anything but the music. It is stifling me, it means I can’t move on if everyone thinks we are still together. We haven’t been put in a public situation, having to pretend to be together, I’m not sure I can act through that.

I fire off a text to Declan, expressing my thoughts. I’m not asking permission, I am telling him. If something happens, I will not hide it.

Dec: I’ll handle it

We are welcomed to the party with open arms. Jordan follows Alessa around like a dog in heat. She ignores him, mostly.

Aidan Gass, or Adam, which is his real name, is BreakNeck’s lead singer. He’s here with his girlfriend, Jenna. I avoid them because they are so in love, it is obvious to everyone and that is the last thing I want to be around tonight. Dylan and Jack find their way into a group of women while I make the rounds, chatting, then playing poker with Archer and Nick from BreakNeck. No one catches my attention. I am open to something if the opportunity arises, though I’m content hanging out with the guys. And losing a small fortune to Archer, who is a fucking legendary poker player. He takes everything from everyone at the table.

“And that is why I don’t play with this asshole,” Adam says with a laugh, pointing his bottle at Archer. We watch him pull an enormous pile of chips towards him.

“I oughta go professional,” he brags. “Sorry losers.”

The party doesn’t wind down until around four AM when I’m on the verge of passing out. Dylan agrees to head out with me back to our shared apartment. Alessa stays and I eyeball Jordan, letting him know he better behave himself. Fucker just winks at me.

There is no surprise the following morning when I wake to the news reports about us breaking up.

“Did you know about this?” Dylan asks from the breakfast bar after I sit beside him. “Riley’s been blowing up my phone.”

“She made her bed.”

I’ve had texts from her too but haven’t opened them. Speculation around the break-up is at a fever pitch. The party line is, we decided we are better as friends, there is no mention of her cheating.

Dylan studies me for a second, then hands me a coffee. “It needed to be done. Now you can move on. Like she did.”

I nod. “Thanks, Bro.”

“Does this mean I have a wingman?”

“Don’t get too excited.”

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