Page 7 of The Final Beat

“You don’t know him.”

“I still need a name.”

“There’s no point.” I reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. If she was drinking she’d be distracted.

“Every point. And don’t think more wine will stop me from asking questions.”

I could make up a name, but she’d see through it. There was no harm in trying, though.

“Dylan. I met him in the pub last weekend.”

Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Liar. What’s his real name.”

“That’s the name he gave me. He said his name was Dylan. Why wouldn’t I believe him?”

“You’re lying. He didn’t say his name was Dylan. So, fess up, boss, what’s his real name.”

Giving his real name wasn’t just a case of telling Laura, it would be admitting to myself that Joey had been back in my bed…again. It had happened a few times over the last few years, but more so since Cassie and Bobby had died. At least four times in the last year. All when we were on tour. No one knew because I chose to lock it away with everything else that I was ashamed of. The day after, I’d avoided everyone, especially Laura because she would guess and there weren’t many options of who I might have shagged when locked away in a hotel.

“You don’t know him, Laura. And he told me his name was Dylan.” I hoped that was the end of it, but she was not going to give up.

“I know you’re lying. You look shifty.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward, staring at me.

“Fine,” I said with a heavy sigh. “It was Joey.”

Laura knew about our past, and a couple of the other times that we’d hooked up, but not all of them. I didn’t want anyone thinking that we were more than we were.

“Joey? As in drummer Joey? Joey Farrow Joey?”

“Yes, Laura. How many other Joeys do we know?”

“There’s Joey Daniels from Angry Alien.”

I shook my head. “Joey Daniels moved to Australia about five years ago. When the hell would I have seen him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s visiting.”

“Well, he isn’t and it’s Joey Farrow.”

Laura clapped her hands and settled back against the cushions, getting herself comfy for the tale she was expecting me to tell. She didn’t need to know it all. All she needed were the basics, because if I admitted any more than that, knowing her, she’d think there was more to it.

“He came round, and we had sex, and it was really good. He might be a twat but he’s great at getting orgasms out of me.”

Laura scoffed. “You don’t think he’s a twat. Not really. That’s just your defence mechanism since you know who.”

At least she hadn’t said his name.

She’d joined me just after it had all happened, after Ali had persuaded me to take on the Warrior Creek tour. Laura had seen me trying to put myself back together and she’d been with me when I got pissed on vodka and cried like a baby. She knew it all. Every sordid detail—mostly.

“You used him on that first tour to help make you feel better,” she continued. “A few quick shags with a young guy who didn’t want anything. That’s what you expected from your time with Joey.”

I gave her a quick shoulder shrug and a frown because there wasn’t anything else to add.

Laura laughed. “Bull shit. You never once considered he might mend your heart.”

“And that isthebiggest pile of bull shit.”

She raised a brow. “I think we both know it isn’t. Tell me why you ended it the first time, only for you to keep going back for some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had?”

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