Olivia Cunning - Rock Hard

Jessica nodded, her bag sliding from her shoulder to the crook of her elbow.

“I bet he climbs into your bed naked while you’re not there. Rubs his body between your sheets. Makes out with your pillow. Plays with himself while he thinks of you and comes all over your mattress.”

“Shut up!”

“Enjoy your family reunion.” He headed to the bathroom for a towel.

She followed him. “You’re such an asshole. You’ll do anything to get your way, won’t you?”

“I’m not sure why you’re leaving. I said I didn’t mean it that way. But go ahead. Leave.” He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she actually left. Groveling came to mind. So did physical restraint. “I’m sure I can find someone to keep me entertained until the band goes back on tour.” Lying worked okay sometimes, but he knew her reluctance to go home was his best bet. “And I know your mom and Ed will be happy to see you.”

Her bag dropped to the floor. She looked physically ill. “I’ll stay, but I’m sleeping in your guest room and as soon as Myrna pays me, I’ll have rent money for you.”

Heh, I win. “I don’t want your money, Jessica. If you insist on compensating me, just suck my cock twice a day,” he teased.

He reached for her, but she took a step back. She lifted an eyebrow at him, her nostrils flared. “Just when I start to think you’re not the biggest asshole on the planet, you go and ruin it by opening your mouth.”

Well, shit. Now what had he said wrong?

Sed clasped Eric’s hand and clapped him on the back. “Did you bring it?”

“Yep.” Eric handed Sed a huge stack of guitar music. Music Brian had written while making love to Myrna. The sheer quantity was overwhelming. The quality? Perfection.

“Awesome,” Sed said. “I invited Jace, by the way.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“Uh, he’s our bassist.” Sed shifted the stack of music under one arm and stepped further into the condo, ushering Eric inside. “He’s already in the studio.”

“If he annoys me, you have to send him home. I can’t compose when I’m annoyed.”

“He won’t annoy you. Gush all over you? Maybe.”

Eric followed Sed to the spare bedroom he’d had converted into a studio. This would be the first time they’d had a chance to use it. “Got beer?” Eric asked.

“I always have beer.”

“And lyrics?”

“Some. I’ll show you what I have. We’ll probably need to add to them.”

“I brought a couple of ideas.” Eric fished a tiny wirebound notebook out of his inner vest pocket.

“We’ll take a look.”

Eric entered the studio, checking out the soundboard, recording equipment, and various instruments. They didn’t plan to actually record here, but if they ever decided to drop their record label, it was equipped for it. Eric sat in the chair across the square coffee table from Jace. “Hey, little man. Been keeping busy?”

Jace rubbed his earring between his thumb and forefinger. “No. I’m ready to get back on the road.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I hope Trey gets better soon.”

“He won’t get better until he starts trying. Lazing around by his parents’ pool all day isn’t helping,” Sed said, scowling. “I guess I’ll have to go straighten him out.”

“That’s probably a good job for Brian. Put him on it,” Eric said.

“That would require Brian leaving Myrna’s bed for more than five minutes. Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Speaking of women in bed, where’s Jess?”

“She went to a yoga class and then to go pick up her mail from her mother’s house. She’s sure to be in a foul mood when she returns, so let’s get busy.” It had taken her a week to get up the nerve to go visit her mother and she’d only agreed to it because Ed was away on business.

“This should be cool.” Jace sat up straighter so he could see all the scraps of music on the coffee table.

Sed and Jace watched Eric riffle through the stack of guitar music.

“I looked at some of this last night,” Eric said. “Lots of good stuff here.” He sorted the music into about twenty piles spread from one corner of the large square coffee table to the other. He held his hand out to Sed. “Lyrics?”

Sed handed him his lyrics notebook. He experienced strange jolts of nervousness in his belly as Eric read through the pages.

Eric tore a page out and set it on a stack of music in the center of the table. “You been tormented lately, Sed?” Eric asked. “Lots of angst in here.”

Sed shrugged, feeling self-conscious. His lyrics were always highly personal. It was like exposing his soul to the world.

“The fans will love this.” Eric ripped out another page and handed it to Jace. “Read that.”

Hands on his thighs, Sed gripped the fabric of his jeans to keep himself from snatching the page out of Jace’s hands. This was a hell of a lot easier when he didn’t participate. In the past, he’d just supplied some lyrics and saw the finished products as songs.

“Awesome,” Jace said. “What’s it about?”

Sed took the page from him and read the title. “Sever.” He’d written this after he’d seen a captain go down with his ship in a movie. He’d thought the guy was an idiot. “Cutting ties.”

“Let’s start with that one,” Eric said, setting the notebook aside. “I know just the music for it. Hard and heavy.” He scanned the sets of music on the table, lifted a stack, and set it on his knee. “Here it is. Jace, hand me a guitar. I need to hear it.”

Jace glanced around the room and spotted the acoustic sitting on a stand in the corner. He retrieved it and handed it to Eric. Eric tuned the guitar in Brian’s typical drop D, and then played a few bars of the riff. He didn’t have Brian’s innate soloing skill, but Eric could play. “Yep,” he said, shifting that score to his other knee. He read from the next score and played a few bars of a solo at half tempo. “We’ll make this the bridge.”

“A solo for a bridge?” Jace asked.

“It will work. Brian will love adding embellishments between stanzas. You know how he is.” Eric pulled a pen out of his pocket and scratched out a few lines of music, adding a couple of notes in their place.

“Yeah.” Jace looked awestruck.

Eric rearranged the sections several times and then nodded. “Okay, I’ve got the guitar music worked out. Now we need the bass line.” He glanced at Jace.

Jace jumped to his feet and pulled his bass out of the case behind the leather sofa. Eric pulled two sets of drumsticks out of his pockets. Sed wondered if he had a drum kit in that pocket, too. Eric tapped a rhythm on the table with his sticks. “Match it.”

Jace plugged his bass into a practice amp and strummed a line distinctly Sinners. Yet, more. How had he managed to improve perfection? It struck Sed that they were about to take their music to the next level. With their bassist, of all people.

He glanced at Eric to see if he recognized it too.

“Not bad,” Eric said, nodding in appreciation. Didn’t Eric hear him? The guy was a phenomenon. His sound was so much richer than Jon’s had been, it was as if they didn’t even play the same instrument. They had to exploit the hell out of Jace’s talent on the new album. Eric glanced at Sed. “You ready to sing?”

Off in progressing-our-fame land, Sed started. “Oh yeah. I’m ready.” He cleared his throat. Even though it had been weeks since that bouncer had grabbed him at the strip club, his throat still bothered him. Not so bad that it affected his voice. It just felt different. Achy. Especially when he screamed.

“Like this,” Eric said. He sang the chorus lyrics as he envisioned them.

“Sever it, never let it take you down.

Sever it, before it takes you under.

Sever it, tied, gagged and bound.

Sever it, no sense in going under.

Let.

It.

Go.” Eric carried the last note for several measures and stopped tapping the table with drumsticks. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Sed told him.

“Now you sing it.”

“I can’t sing in that octave. You sing it.”

“I’m the drummer, not the singer.”

“You used to be. So sing that chorus and in the background, I’ll scream like this:

Sever.

Severrrrrrrrr.

Severrrrrrrrrrrrr.” Sed let each roar increase in length and volume.

“Sing it together,” Jace requested, leaning toward them, his bass guitar drooping to around knee level.

“I’m not singing,” Eric insisted. “Helloooo.” He pointed to himself. “Drummer. Drum-mer.”

“Humor him,” Sed said.

Eric rolled his eyes. “I feel like an ass.”

“You are an ass,” Sed insisted with a grin, “but you have the perfect pitch for this chorus. Sing.”

Eric sighed heavily and then sang the chorus, just like before. Sed entered his rumbling screams throughout Eric’s more melodic vocals. When they stopped, they stared at each other in surprise.

“That. Was. Awesome,” Jace said. “Holy shit. Do it again.”

“I can’t sing, Sed,” Eric said.

“You just did.”

“I don’t have the right stage presence to be a vocalist.”

Sed remembered telling him something like that twelve years ago. You’d think the guy would have gotten over it by now.

“Dude, I’m not handing lead vocals over to you. But there’s no reason you can’t sing that chorus from behind your drums. It sounded excellent.”

“Yeah, excellent,” Jace agreed. “My God, Eric. You’re amazing.”

Sed glanced at Jace. “You’ve got something on your nose.” Sed rubbed his own nose with the side of his finger. “Right there.”