Page 13 of Bassist With Benefits
Jeremy glanced down when their eyes met. “Um, once we check in, do you want to get a burger or something?”
Alan hesitated, unsure why standing next to his friend or accepting an invitation for a burger needed to be a big deal.
“All of us,” Jeremy clarified when Alan didn’t answer right away.
“Sure.” Alan nodded and offered a small smile. “I’m kinda hungry.”
Since they needed to leave for sound check, a quick bite in the hotel restaurant made the most sense, but the commotion it caused made Jeremy rethink the decision not to eat in the suite. A back section of the restaurant needed to be roped off, guarded by Bulletproof’s security team in case any rambunctious fans decided to bombard their meal.
Three servers, probably two more than necessary, delivered their orders. It seemed the entire restaurant staff was waiting on them today. A hostess seated them, a busboy gave them glasses of water, another brought pitchers filled with soda – on the house – someone else handed them menus, a waitress took their order, and now three new faces appeared at their table. Jeremy really didn’t care, and of course, Brandon reveled in the attention. It never got old for Bulletproof’s vivacious lead singer. And the guy tipped every single one of the servers – not a measly few bucks either. Tens and twenties left Brandon’s wallet faster than the rolls in the bread basket. Brandon had already passed around one of the menus for the band to sign, which he presented to a very giddy waitress, and Jeremy knew that before they left the restaurant Brandon would herd everyone together for a group photo.
Jeremy purposely sat next to Alan at the large table, determined for things to return to normal between them. Besides making music, a group meal seemed like the quickest way for them to interact in a familiar way. Cam was teasing Brandon about his mile-high burger and loaded fries. Derek couldn’t shovel food into his mouth fast enough. Honestly, the guy had an appetite of someone three times his size. And Alan quietly picked at his food, seemingly lost in his head. Tired of the awkward bullshit, Jeremy initiated conversation. First he asked Alan to pass the salt, then the pepper, the rolls, a pat of butter, a lemon wedge, another napkin. Thanks to the overly attentive service, the table was loaded with extras. At first, Alan methodically passed each item to Jeremy without changing his expression. By the time Jeremy asked for a packet of sugar, which he had no use for, Alan had a questioning smile tucked in the corner of his mouth.
“Do you want me to cut your meat for you too?” Alan asked.
Jeremy gave an innocent shrug. “Not my fault you’re hoarding all the good stuff on your side of the table.”
Alan gave Jeremy a “yeah, right” roll of his eyes and returned his attention to his plate.
Since there wasn’t anything left for Alan to pass to Jeremy, and Jeremy was now surrounded with useless clutter, he chose a topic of conversation that he knew would elicit a response. “I was thinking we should do something different to mix up the set list.” It wasn’t a lie. Jeremy really had been toying with the idea for a while. “What if we did a cover of a classic?”
“You mean like how Disturbed coveredThe Sound of Silence?” Brandon asked, interest brightening his eyes.
“Oh, I love that remake,” Cam agreed. “I think it would really make people take notice if you did something like that. It would get the attention of people who aren’t already fans of Bulletproof, too.”
Alan nodded enthusiastically – just the reaction Jeremy was hoping for. “I would love to do an AC/DC cover.Highway to Hellwould sound fucking killer. Oh my God. Zeppelin. We gotta do Zeppelin. They’re the epitome of classic rock. We could totally re-vampStairway to Heaveninto a metal song. Or… imagine how awesome it would be if I put my own spin on the drum solo inMoby Dick!”
Derek rushed to swallow a mouthful of food so that he could respond. “We could do something totally different and blow everyone’s mind, like the way I Prevail covered Taylor Swift’sBlank Space.”
“I am not singing a Taylor Swift song,” Brandon said, raising the palm of his hand in protest.
“Oh, come on,” Cam teased. “I think you’d do Tay-Tay justice by singing one of her songs.”
“I have nothing againstTay-Tay,” Brandon teased back, exaggerating Taylor Swift’s nickname. “I just don’t want to sing a pop song.”
Everyone started throwing out suggestions for a song and exchanging excited ideas, and it took on the feel of normalcy. While Alan was waving his fork around in animated conversation, the piece of grilled chicken fell off and landed on Jeremy’s napkin, but Alan never noticed. So Jeremy picked it up and ate it. After a minute, Alan brought the fork to his mouth and did a double take. He looked on the table and glanced at the floor for his missing chunk of chicken, then gave up and cut another piece. As the conversations continued, Jeremy stole a steak fry from Alan’s plate. Then half a pickle. Some more fries. Half a buttered roll.
When they all finally settled on a remake of Motörhead’sAce of Spades, Jeremy had eaten half of Alan’s meal on the sly. Jeremy kept his head down and pressed his lips together to contain his laughter as he waited for Alan to realize that his food had disappeared.
Alan finally stopped talking and took a long gulp of soda, now ready to finish his meal. He looked down at his plate, ready to skewer a steak fry, and stopped. Startled by his empty plate, his eyes widened, and his mouth opened into a surprised oval.
Jeremy burst out laughing, tears seeping from the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, wise guy?” Alan bumped Jeremy in the shoulder with his elbow. “You think you’re so funny? Get a new steak.” Alan stuck his fork in Jeremy’s plate and stole the most tender rib eye on the planet.
CHAPTER FIVE
Forty-eight hours ago, Alan’s friendship with Jeremy was on the line. Now, things were back on track. They had made amends. The revelry at lunch, covering a song by an iconic heavy metal band, followed by a show that almost blew the roof off the U.S. Bank Arena, eased the lingering tension. It was still hard to look at Jeremy, though, without remembering what it was like to get the blowjob of all blowjobs. Nothing would ever come close to the ecstasy he felt that night. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Why the fuck was he still thinking about it? He ran his hand over his face to wash away the memory, but nothing could erase the inexplicable tryst. It was engraved in his mind, and the exquisite touch was etched into his flesh.
The after-party was in Bulletproof’s suite. It started out the usual way – the band, members of the other bands on tonight’s lineup, friends, and hangers-on – then escalated into an open house. After the incident with the cameraman at the last party, Felix banned the media tonight. It was a relief because Alan was still on edge, although things were slowly getting back to normal.
An arm slid across his waist from behind, and he immediately tensed. The blond twink stepped forward, revealing that it wasn’t Jeremy’s hand that just slithered over Alan’s flesh. He had no idea why he thought it would be Jeremy, and even it if was, why would he freeze? And why the hell was his heart beating so loud he could hear it in his ears over the music? He was surprised that none of the other hotel guests had called the cops about the noise. Someone kept turning up the volume. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Brandon.Chop Sueyby System of a Down was shaking the walls. As a drummer, the heavy beat in a song was like the blood pumping in his veins, but the music was too loud for Alan to hear what the guy next to him was saying.
Alan watched the guy’s lips move and smile provocatively, but only picked up on the innuendo. The boyish good looks and lean muscular body were exactly Alan’s type. He should be pushing the guy to his knees right now, or at least kissing those beautiful pouty lips, but instead he was trying to figure out what the guy was saying. He waved for the guy to follow him into the kitchen, which was the furthest away from the ginormous speakers that were always a must in their suite. Alan wondered which one of them had requested that on the band’s rider and realized it was probably Derek. Their lead guitarist played music even louder than Brandon did.
Alan’s new friend grabbed onto the waistband of Alan’s jeans as he followed, probably to stake a claim in case any other groupies had planned on making a move – not that anyone cared. Groupies gave out blowjobs like they were handshakes.
The cute twink pulled Alan over to the kitchen island and spilled a generous amount of cocaine onto the granite from a small amber vial. “Wanna party?”
