Page 27 of Out of the Blue

“Get over here!”

She starts toward us and when she gets close enough, I reach out to grab her hand. She is, after all, the reason why we’re getting VIP treatment. Together, we walk to the bald bouncer.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Rock royalty always is welcome here. Enjoy.”

Under my breath, I repeat, “Rock royalty.” Holy shit! Is this my life?

Cordelia squeezes my hand—I almost had forgotten I was holding hers. “I think it was all your social media that got you entrance.”

Her quip makes me laugh, and I raise her fingers to my lips. Together, we enter a large, dim room. An impressive light show illuminates the dance floor in the middle, the colored lights accentuating the music. Straight behind us is the DJ booth, with a bar to the right. A sign marked “VIP” is on the left, where my band has taken up residence. I tug Cordelia into the area.

Someone offers me a Bud. Addressing the woman who made this possible, I ask, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Vodka and seltzer.”

Her choice of drink rings a bell. “With a lime?”

Our gazes meet and freeze for a second. “Yeah.”

I place her order with a server, and soon we’re back with the guys. Most of our roadies made it to the VIP section as well. A guy could get used to this treatment.

Maurice lifts his chin toward Joey. “How’s my eye looking?” He removes his thick glasses.

The bassist peers into his bandmate’s eyes. “They’re both clear,” he pronounces.

Maurice emits an elongated breath. “Thank fuck. Doc told me I have episcleritis, and prescribed Prednisone.” He holds up a prescription bottle. “Seems to be working. Can’t wait to get off the pills, though. They make me jumpy.”

I clap my hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be back to your normal, blind self in no time.”

He rubs his middle finger across his cheek, used to my teasing.

Joey’s white-toothed grin almost glows. “Bet you twenty your eye doc reduces your prescription at your next check-in.”

“I’m in for it being eliminated altogether,” Dwight says.

I point the neck of my Bud at Maurice. “Count me in for some kind of new eye drop that will change the course of your life.” Despite his seeming progress, Maurice seems to want this possibility.

Being at the apex of the bet, Maurice doesn’t chime in. Yet, the look of relief crossing his face says it all. He lifts his Cuba Libre high. “To the best band of brothers ever!”

We clink our drinks and the sweet goodness of my Bud coats my throat. For the first time in ages, I feel lighter. Maybe it’s focusing on my friends’ problems rather than my own. Cordelia laughs at something, and my cock stirs. Maybe it’s something more basic. Even though she ditched me after our last tryst, it seems he didn’t get the message.

I enjoy the music and the drinks and even join everyone on the dance floor when a classic by Bon Jovi plays. After it finishes, a slow anthem by Cole Manchester blares, and I find myself staring into the fascinating mocha-brown eyes of the woman who’s changing things for the band for the better. And for me.

I lift my brow. “Dance?”

She licks her lips and places her hand in mine. Squeezing her close, I enjoy her floral-fruity scent and we sway to the sensuous beat. Manchester writes some fantastic shit.

“I appreciate all you’re doing for us. You’re great at what you do.”

If I wasn’t holding her, I would’ve missed the way her body swelled against my chest. With her sexy as all get out raspy voice, she replies, “Thanks.”

I get lost in the music and the woman in my arms. Who I fucked in a bathroom not too long ago. And who gave me a Grade A blowjob the other night. She’s opened up to me about her money problems and asshole ex. I’ve shared one of my deepest secrets with her.

Not the big one.

No one gets to hear that.

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