“Don’t worry your selfish little head about that,” Adam shouted. “Jay may take my sloppy seconds, but I sure as hell don’t want his!”
“You son of a bitch,” she gasped. “Get the fuck out now!” Shaking with fury, she watched him stomp from the kitchen.
After four days had passed with no word from Jay, Katie’s nerves were stretched tighter than one of the strings on her guitar. Every time her telephone rang she risked broken bones from diving to answer it. She refused to leave the flat so as not to miss Jay’s call and shooed all visitors save for Maureen out the door almost as soon as they arrived so as not to be distracted if he did call. She would have shooed Maureen, too, only she knew it wouldn’t have done any good.
By the afternoon of the fourth day her anticipation had given way to smoldering anger. Most of it was directed at Jay for keeping her hanging, and she wondered if all those things he’d said that made her weak at the knees were nothing more than pretty words designed to keep her on a string in case he found himself alone and needed a sure fuck.
A large part of her anger, though, was directed at herself. She had never acted in such a way before, not even when she was a hormone-riddled fourteen-year-old with her first boyfriend. Of course, she’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Jay Carey, but still wondered if behaving like a burgeoning doormat was normal.
She tried to figure out just what it was about him that affected her that way, but any logical thinking was always derailed by a tearing lust that left her quivering. Mixed with that urgent desire for his body was a yearning to just be near him, the way he said he wanted to be with her. Oh, yes; he’d said it, but he hadn’t been anywhere near her since.
With a growl of frustration she threw the paperback she held across the room, missing Maureen’s head by a narrow margin as she walked through the door unannounced.
“Was it something I said?” Maureen picked up the book. “Or is this just that bad?”
“I’m sorry.” Katie grimaced in contrition. “Just taking out some heavy shit on the book, that’s all.”
“I hope it helped.” Maureen tossed the book on the couch. “Right now you need to put on a face and change clothes because we’re going to Jay’s.”
Katie frowned. “Why?”
“Because he’s asked us to, that’s why.” Maureen took hold of Katie’s wrist and hauled her from the chair. “Nicky just rang from a call box outside that building they’ve rented to rehearse in and said they’ve decided to quit for now and they’re all going to Jay’s to relax for a bit. George called Carol and she’s already on her way over. Oh, I almost forgot,” she tossed over her shoulder as she dragged Katie into her closet. “Jay told Nicky to tell me to tell you that he was going to ring you himself, but he doesn’t have your telephone number.”
Katie came to a halt and was almost pulled off her feet as Maureen kept going. “I forgot to give him my number,” she said in disbelief. “I fucking forgot to give him my fucking number!” Her anger at Jay evaporated. “How stupid am I?”
Maureen pointed to Katie’s dressing table. “Put on your makeup,” she instructed. “Nicks said Jay asked him for your number, but he doesn’t know it, either.” She turned to the racks of Katie’s clothes on the wall. “What do you want to wear?”
Putting her stupidity at sending Jay off without vital contact information aside, Katie’s mind ran over her wardrobe, considering and rejecting until she remembered the white linen poet’s blouse she’d bought in San Francisco but never worn. “White blouse, full sleeves, ruffles down the front,” she said as she applied makeup with a quick hand. “There’s a pair of suede pants there, too.”
“Ooh, lovely!” Maureen ran her hands over the soft, supple suede. “These have all got tags on them. Want me to cut them off?”
Katie gave her a wry look in the mirror. “Unless you think they’re a fashion statement.”
“Not one you want to make.” Using a pair of cuticle scissors from the dressing table, she snipped the tags loose. “There you are. Now, hurry. Fashionably late is one thing, but I think we’re pushing it.”
• • •
Overcast skies and a brisk wind made their walk from the tube station to Jay’s house a chilly one. When they reached the half-timbered, Tudor-style house, Maureen opened the door and walked in as if she owned it. Katie followed at a more hesitant pace, wondering what happened to the common courtesy of ringing the bell. Maureen turned to close the door and caught sight of Katie’s face.
“He said to just come right in,” she explained. “So don’t look like he’s going to set a pack of attack dogs on us.”
“You should have told me. I’m freaking out enough as it is.” Now that she wasn’t worried about improper etiquette, Katie let the warmth of the front hall envelop her. “Man, it feels good in here,” she sighed.
“It does that,” Maureen agreed. “Come on; Nicks said they’d be in the back. There’s some sort of game room back there.” She took Katie’s arm and led her down the hallway toward the sounds of voices coming from the back of the house.
The game room was clearly a later addition since it had none of formal grandeur of the rest of the house. A large, round sofa took up one side of the room, and a billiards table occupied the other. The members of Shadowed Knight stood around this table with cue sticks in their hands, their expressions as serious as surgeons presented with a challenging new medical procedure.
Katie’s eyes went directly to Jay, willing him to look up and see her. But it was Adam who glanced up, did a double take, and dropped his eyes back to the table, cheeks flushed with what Katie thought was anger. Great. It appeared he was going to carry on with the martyred lover bit, no matter how uncomfortable it got.
Carol Richards chose that moment to sweep in and distract her. “I’m so glad you two are here,” she gushed. “I’ve been stuck here alone with these blokes forever and it’s gotten to be a real drag just standing around watching them play with their balls.”
With a burst of surprised laughter, Katie looked down at George’s peppery, red-haired wife. “That’s an interesting way to put it.”
Maureen joined them, glancing askance at the billiards table. “I’ll never understand the fascination men have with that game. That and football can keep them entertained for ages.” She looked Katie up and down. “Why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile? I tossed mine on the couch.”
“Since everyone’s here, I might as well,” Katie joked. She shrugged out of her coat and put it with Maureen’s. As she rejoined her friends, she couldn’t resist another look at the billiards table to find she’d finally captured Jay’s attention. She smiled and was rewarded with that slow, beautiful smile that made her heart pound.
Caught up in the way he was looking at her, she walked right into the poker table in the corner and was saved from falling only by Maureen’s grabbing her around the waist.
“Easy there, love,” Maureen laughed. “We haven’t even blazed up yet.”
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, Katie kept her eyes down and slid into a chair. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Carol snickered and handed her a lighter and a joint. “We saw what you were watching, and who was watching you. Fire this up, would you?”
Five minutes later Katie was ready to give her sincerest compliments to Carol’s connection. The joint had contained the most potent weed she had ever smoked and she sat with her chin in her hand trying to make sense of Carol’s tales of trying to conceive her and George’s baby daughter.
“So … ” Carol paused to light a second joint. “We’d tried everything else and it didn’t work,” she wheezed. “So we decided to give the doctor’s advice a go and try some new positions.”
Maureen stared at her, glassy-eyed. “What sorts of new positions?”
“Nothing too drastic, and nothing we’d not at least considered before.” Carol sighed, her mouth turned down in a pout. “But I sure missed being on top those few months. Gravity, you know.” She handed the joint to Katie.
“Wow.” Katie took a hit. “Did you, like, have to do it upside down or something?”
“No,” Carol giggled. “I did think of it, but it seemed a little too much like a porn movie for my taste.”
Katie racked her brain but couldn’t remember seeing any porn movies where sex was performed upside down. “They do it that way in movies?”
“Sometimes. George likes to take me to porn movies; I think it turns him on. Doesn’t do much for me, though.”
Snickering, Maureen passed the joint back to Carol and huffed out smoke. “I don’t think they take our opinions into consideration when they write those scripts.”
“What scripts?” Carol demanded. “Most of them start out with some bloke saying hello to some bimbo, then the bimbo throws off her clothes and starts sucking him off with no further ado. The least they could do is have her say hello back.”
“What would she say?” Katie was suddenly overcome with giggles and mimicked someone speaking with their mouth full. “
Icth oo eet oo?
”
Shaking with mirth, Carol added, “Or maybe she could say,
uhee eather ear aving
.”
Maureen wiped her eyes, whooping with laughter. “Maybe it’s best they cut out the chit-chat.”
“We saw one once,” Carol snickered, “where she was sitting on his face, and he’s down there just munching away and she’s on the bloody telephone! How’s that for adding conversation?”
Katie’s giggles escalated into laughter so deep she made no sound and could only sit there rocking back and forth, holding onto her aching ribs. She waved away the roach Carol offered and Maureen leaned over to take it.
“Can you imagine?” Maureen affected a high, reedy voice. “Oh, ’ello, Mum. Not much. How are you? Excuse me, Mum … Yes! Yes! Yes! … Okay, I’m back. How’s granny?”
“Stop,” Katie gasped. “You’re killing me.”
Carol laughed so hard she snorted, which set all three of them off again. At length, Maureen noticed the roach had gone out and dropped it into the ashtray. “I’m bleedin’ starving,” she declared, lurching out of her chair. She stood swaying like a seasoned sailor on the deck of a ship and looked around the room. “Jay! Don’t you have any pretzels or crisps or anything?”
“Over here, space cadets.” Jay pointed to the low table surrounded by the round sectional couch upon which the guys were sprawled in glorious relaxation. Katie gave them an appreciative eye and thought someone should paint the scene and name it
Temptation.
Carol, Maureen and Katie made their way to the couch and plopped down, reaching for the bowls of munchies. As she lifted a bowl of pretzels Katie discovered her left index finger was behaving oddly. She forgot about being hungry as she held her hand in front of her face and flexed the finger, feeling a small pop every time she bent it. “There’s something wrong with my finger,” she announced in wonder. “It pops.” She demonstrated, adding sound effects to clarify. “See? Pop. Pop. Pop.”
After a moment of amused silence, Nicky continued what was obviously an interrupted conversation.
“I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. “I quite like them. I’ve listened to that album until it’s almost fucking transparent.”
“Ah, it’s just jealousy,” Adam put in. “Beck’s having a tantrum because Pagey did it better than he did.”
“What?” Maureen asked, curled up against Nicky. “Who are you talking about?”
“Led Zeppelin,” Jay told her. “Are you going to eat all those crisps?”
Carol cut off Jay’s query with a sigh of evident delight. “I think that group is fucking brilliant. And that bass player they’ve got? I think he’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I fantasize about him all the time.”
In an instant the men grew as quiet as cats that took a wrong turn and found themselves in the middle of a dog pound. After a moment in which Katie could have sworn she heard them thinking over the pop of her finger, Stuart cleared his throat and leaned forward. “You, uh … fantasize?”
“Of course.” Carol shrugged. “Everyone does, so don’t act surprised.”
“Well, yeah,” Adam interjected, his cheeks stained with a faint blush. “Most people don’t admit it in front of their old man.”
George directed a lazy smile at Adam. “Doesn’t bother me, mate. As long as that’s all she does.”
Carol kissed his cheek. “That’s all I do,” she assured him before turning a speculative look on Maureen. “And what about you, Maureen? Who do you fantasize about?”
Under Nicky’s interested regard, Maureen tilted her head. “Steve Winwood, mostly. And Adam sometimes.”
“What?” The uncomfortable tension that had invaded the room disappeared at the look of surprise on Adam’s face. He raised his voice to be heard above the roar of laughter. “I’m flattered, Maur, but I’d hate to have Nicky rough me up or something.”
“Be cool, Adam.” Nicky grinned. “It’s just fantasy, right?”
“Doesn’t have to be if everyone’s cool with it,” Katie declared. “Y’all, my finger is really tripping me out.”
“So, Katie.” Stuart directed an evil grin in her direction. “What about you?”
Still fixated on her finger, Katie pretended to ignore him while whispering the appropriate sound effects under her breath.
Maureen snickered around a mouthful of crisps. “I know who Katie fantasizes about. Jimmy Page and Jay Carey. Am I right?”
Katie nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face as she flexed her finger. “At the same time. Pop!”
Carol sighed and fell back against the couch. “I think I just died a little. I need to be revived with crisps, George. Take them from Maureen before she eats them all.”
“Interesting,” Nicky murmured, ignoring the struggle for snacks going on next to him as George attempted to wrest the bowl from Maureen. “Didn’t I just hear you say it doesn’t have to be fantasy?”
“Why, yes; I did say that.” Katie abandoned her contemplation of her malfunctioning digit and looked up to find Jay regarding her with amusement.
“That okay with you?” she asked him, still smiling.
He laughed softly. “Whatever makes you happy. I think we could probably work something out.”
Katie’s heart gave a heavy thump at the look in his eyes, and she found it impossible to wipe the smile from her face.