Page 84 of Dirty Rock

“Don’t tell me. You were getting laid by some woman named Trixibelle, and she kept you up all night long.”

I grinned to myself, just in time to see Julia walking through the studio doors behind Dicky.

I grinned at her as I answered him.

“That sounds about right. Up all night, fucking a woman named Trixibelle. That’s why I’m tired.”

“Sounds like nothing’s changed around here,” Julia said, making everyone’s head snap her way in surprise. She and I held each other’s gaze for only a couple of seconds before the others descended, telling her what an idiot she’d been to leave. What a fool she’d been to think they could replace her. How each of them were glad to have her back. How she was theirs and only theirs, she couldn’t ever leave them.

Like fuck she is. She’s mine.

That’s what I wanted to say, even as I watched them cuddling and pawing her while she stood there in her skin-tight blue jeans, red T-shirt, and that cropped black blazer I now loved more than my own dick.

I rose to my feet eventually, not wanting to seem too casual, especially given the meltdown I’d had over the phone with Dicky. The men cleared as if knowing I was making my way to her, and the loud bursts of laughter soon faded away to empty chuckles that were turning into curious sighs.

Raising a brow, I brought my cigarette up to my mouth and inhaled a long, slow drag of it. Aiming it away from her, but keeping my eyes trained her way, I blew it out before I rubbed my lips together.

“You’re back then,” I said, acting like I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t be too enthusiastic, Rhett. I wouldn’t want you to strain a muscle with a smile.”

“Doesn’t matter to me what you do, princess,” I lied.

“And don’t act like you don’t love me.”

“I love you, Jules, like I love having my balls squeezed by Hawk.”

“Isthatwhy you guys sneak off together all the time?” She grinned, taking me on.

“If only you knew what I get up to with people I shouldn’t.”

“If only I gave a shit.”

“It would bode well for you to care about the band for a little while. You know… after your recent dramatics and all.”

“Don’t you worry about me and my job. We both know I’m the only one who can do what I do for you.”

“I guess time will tell.” I smirked.

“Sure will,” she fired back, playing her part well. “And it’s so good to know you’re still an arsehole.” Her eyes narrowed in fake hate, while her heart no doubt danced around in circles, just for me like mine was doing for her.

“You thought a week away from me would change that?”

“One could hope.” The others behind me laughed, and I winked down at Jules.

“Keep dreaming, sweetheart. No amount of time can change who I am. No one person will, either.”

“We’ll see,” she whispered, almost to herself.

Before I ruined everything and reached out to touch her—perhaps bend her over and press my smoky lips to her candy-flavoured lipstick—I forced myself to turn and make my way back to the sofa. I dropped back into place, unzipped my rucksack, and pulled out a load of papers.

“Now we’reallhere, how about you fuckers sit down and see what a real musician does with his time off?”

When I looked up, I pressed the cigarette to my lips, and I squinted an eye as I looked at them all through a cloud of smoke.

“What?” I asked roughly, my voice gravelly and carefree.

Five faces stared back at me, confused and surprised.

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