Page 14 of Fractured Frets

But I liked his dick throbbing inside me.

His body fit into mine like I’d found the piece of me that had been missing for my entire life. The touch of his hands and lips felt like home. The way he looked at me did strange things to my heart.

Okay, he might not have been lying. I may have found heaven too.

But I had to ignore that. Lock those thoughts away. Lose the key.

Shit.

This wasn’t good.

He’d been right about one thing, though.

One night together would never be enough.

Chapter 5

SLIP

THE PAST – FEBRUARY – 13 MONTHS AGO

After a long day of recording in New York, the guys and the four members of Everhide—Gemma, Kyle, Hunter, and Hayden—dragged me across the street to a trendy bar to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday. I used to love going out, throwing a party, getting high, drunk...and laid...in any given order to mark the occasion, but now, the day was clouded in darkness. It would forever more be the anniversary of Phil’s death. Today was the first one. How could I have fun on the day that reminded me of losing my best friend?

I didn’t feel like partying.

In a dim corner of the bar, we sat around, eating burgers and fries. Hunter had ordered the drinks, so the vodka and whiskey flowed. Flint and Cole were unusually quiet. Wasted. Their glassy gazes seemed to reflect my grief-stricken sentiment. Everhide and Lewis—our new bassist—kept the conversations rolling, overly excited about the tracks we’d recorded for our album and the singles selected for release. All going well, we’d finish in the studio next week and head home to LA.

But me? I wanted to talk about Phil. So much weight pressed against my chest, it was difficult to breathe. I missed him so fucking much. I raised my tumbler toward Cole and Flint sitting opposite me and swirled the vodka around in the glass. “Okay, you sappy sacks of shit. This one’s for Phil. To remembering the good times—not the bad.”

Flint winced. He tapped his glass against mine, guzzled his shot, then slammed the glass down on the table as if it weighed a ton. “It still fucking hurts too much. It’s still hard to comprehend he’s gone.”

Cole swallowed a finger of vodka, then rubbed Flint on the back. “Yeah. He should be here.”

“Do you remember your twenty-first, Cole?” I poured a fresh round of drinks. “Phil and I organized that huge party for you. We hired pole dancers and a DJ and over one hundred people turned up at your house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blow and that many bare tits in one place.”

“Not so sure about that,” Cole mumbled, slouching back in his chair. “The party Flint threw at the end of our last tour would come close. But that was full of more drugs than naked women.”

“True, but at yours, Phil was so loaded.” Images of Phil stripping down to his boxer briefs and twirling around a pole flashed behind my eyelids. God. He’d do anything for a laugh. Anything to entertain the crowd. The man had no shame. “He kept trying to outdo the girls dancing.”

“Slip?” Pain contorted Flint’s face. “No stories. Not tonight. It’s still too raw.” He pushed back his chair and staggered to his feet, swaying and stumbling sideways. “I’m outta here.” But as he grabbed his coat, he crashed into Cole.

Fuck. I hadn’t seen Flint this drunk in months. I didn’t want him to go backward, spiral downhill. I’d best shut the fuck up.

Cole stood, capturing Flint around the shoulders. “Hey. Let’s get you back to the apartment. I’m done too.” He grabbed his jacket and turned Flint toward the door. “We’ll see everyone at the studio tomorrow. Slip? Lewis? You coming?”

“Soon.” My ribs constricted and hurt. I’d wanted to talk about Phil. Remember him. Tell funny stories. I needed to, but clearly they weren’t up for it. “I’m gonna stay and have a few more drinks. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Gemma and the Everhide guys rose to their feet.

“We’d better head home too,” Gemma said as they shrugged on their coats, then wrapped scarves around their necks. “Kids always wake us early. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” I waved, barely lifting my fingers off the table. “No worries. Thanks for dinner.”

“I’ll stay and have another drink with you.” Lewis shuffled across the chairs and took the one opposite me. “That okay?”

“Absolutely.” After everyone left, I stretched out my legs and poured another vodka. “Some birthday, huh?”

“Anniversaries of losing someone you cared about are hard. I get that.” Lewis grabbed the bottle of whiskey and refreshed his glass. “I lost my pop nearly a year ago.”

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