Page 16 of Derailed
“Sean. Hustle up.” Trent shoves a hand over his forehead, pushing the longer strands of hair out of hisface.
I’d move faster if I could get my feet to cooperate. They’re draggin’ ass. Heavy as fuck, really. “Yo, Coy!” I shout behind and draw his attention, as well as that of all the line cooks. “What the fuck you put in my shoes? You fucked with my shoes, didn’tyou?”
Coy bursts into laughter and the sound clamors along with the pots andpans.
“Everyone’s a comedian,” Trent grumbles and shoves open a back door. The night air is crisp, a refreshing slap to my senses. Before I can ask what we’re doing out here, a big ass Hummer barrels down the alleyway, screeching to a halt. Another ten feet and she would have run usover.
The headlights cut and Cora tilts her gorgeous head out the window. “Someone need a ride?” She’s our savior. International model. America’s sweetheart, and the leading lady of over a dozen blockbuster hits. She’s also one of the very few actresses in Hollywood who hasn’t slept her way to success and managed to stay humble throughout theprocess.
“Fucking Cora Bentley, I love you!” I shout and wave my hands above my head, earning that award winningsmile.
“Shhhh!” Trent rolls his eyes. “Just get in the goddamn vehicle before someone finds us backhere.”
“You’re a lot less fun than you used to be,” Austin grumbles, but smiles wide before climbing into Cora’s back seat. “Youare a sight for sore eyes,” he drops a kiss on Cora’s cheek and slidesover.
“Thank you, Cora.” Trent claims shotgun upfront.
I wait for Coy to climb into the middle before I follow and tug the door shut behindme.
She turns to shoot us a warning glare in the back seat. “Any of you puke in my baby and you’re dead to me. So, whereto?”
“We need food. Stat,” Trentsays.
Cora shifts into Drive, lurches through the alley, and out onto the road at an alarming speed.Shit.She drives like this and we’re all getting pulled over. “What’s your pleasure?” she shouts and hums along to the top forty crap blaring through her killer soundsystem.
“Not this shit,” Trentgrumbles.
“What? I love this music. Don’t worry, you’re still my fave band.” She pats him on theshoulder.
“Nachos,” I blurt louder thanintended.
“That one’s wasted,” Trent says to her like I’m being a pain in the ass. Whatever. I’m fucking hungry and it’s his fault we started at the bar. Or maybe it’s Austin’s. Either way, I’mstarving.
“I happen to like that one.” Cora glances back at me through the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry, Sean. I’ll hook youup.”
“Does every woman in LA want to fuck you?” Coy says too loudly. “Ouch!” He rubs his chest in the spot Austin just slappedhim.
“Lady at the wheel. Watch your mouth.” Austin glares. He’s not usually such a gentleman, but when it comes to the few women close to us, he’s a regular LawrenceWelk.
Coy glances at me, palms splayed and a stupid ‘What’d I say’ look on hisface.
“Cora isn’t a groupie. She’s a friend. Fastest way out of this band is to talk about her that way,” I say and lean back into the leather seat. God damn, this vehicle is comfortable. Almost like a big, badass pillow. If I weren’t starving I might fallasleep.
Coy raises his hands, chancing a glance at Trent and Austin. “My bad. No disrespect meant.” He coughs to clear his throat, and when he speaks it’s with a British accent. “Cora Bentley, please excuse my behavior. I’m both thoroughly sloshed and royally in awe of the woman magnet that comes from being the bassist of 3UG. My deepestapologies.”
“Deep,” Austin chuckles. “That’s what shesaid.”
Cora grins again, taking a wide turn at the light and almost gaining a little air in the process. “Apology accepted. Now, let’s sober you idiotsup.”
“Nachos!” I shout again, really unable to produce more than a one-word answer until someone feeds me. Mr. Jose is playing his usual game of shutting down my quick reflexes one byone.
“Funny. I thought you were more into tacos.” Cora winks at me through the rearview window and it’s enough to send us all into a fit of laughter. If I weren’t so fucking drunk, I might actually make a move. She’s open to a night of casual fun. She’s made that clear, but there’s no way I’m showing up with a limp dick. That’s a major party foul. And a woman like Cora Bentley deserves a stellar performance. Anything less isn’t acceptable, even for one night of raunchy fun. Plus, she used to hook up with Trent on the regular before he met Lexi, and I’m not interested in being someone’s sloppy seconds. Especially after one of my bestfriends.
Cora steers us across town to a dive little taco joint and we enjoy the next few hours in peace, away from cameras and curious on-lookers while stuffing our faces with deep fried goodness. We recount old times from life on the road while Coy listens in and laughs along at all the appropriate moments. It’s almost too much to hope that he’ll be cool to hang with like this on tour. Maybe I read him wrong earlier, though. Maybe he’ll break our record and find a lasting place as the drummer for our band. One can onlyhope.
* * *
The sheetsof my bedding mash into the side of my face and a drop of drool rolls out of my open mouth.Fuck me. My head pounds with what must be the worst hangover of my life until I realize the sound isn’t coming from inside mymind.
