Authors: Natalie Barnes
The other guys start laughing but Tristan and I are just standing there still, Tristan looking forward and me, staring right at him, waiting for him to speak to me again. Suddenly, I have an idea, but I have to wait 'til I get Gage alone before addressing it. I want to add something to the song, something personal. I don’t want the other guys to know yet, especially Tristan. Just a couple lines, maybe something he can use as a layer, nothing alone. I want to sing it in my father’s language, too. It has to be done in Italian. Because what I’m about to reveal, I don’t want anyone right now knowing . . . least of all, Tristan.
Chapter Nine
Tristan
She fucking blew me away just now. It’s like she knew. She fucking knew what the lyrics meant. I had to push her. The first time, yeah she did great, but it wasn’t enough. I need her anger, her passion, for it to really work. And that’s exactly what my girl did. I knew what she was thinking, because once she started, she didn’t hold back.
Damn it . . . the more she gave, the fucking hotter she looked. By the time she was done, what you could barely call her top, was fucking sticking right to her sweet skin. I couldn’t help but notice that one drop of sweat rolling down between her tits when she was done, or the way her tiny body was breathing heavy and her perfect tits were moving up and down with every breath she took, like her lungs were trying to gasp for air. That’s how she looked when I used to fuck her.
Fuck me.
It is taking every last ounce of me not to go over there and grab her. I can already fucking tell that I won’t be able to wait for the end of this week to have her. I don’t know what exactly will set me off, but I know I’m already at the edge.
Gunner is jamming now, doing the beginning parts of the song, starting off heavy with the double bass before slowing down the rhythm. I keep my head down; I have to collect myself. I grind my teeth together to try and regain control when I can sense her by me.
Barely lifting my head, I scan my eyes to the right. Sophia is crouching down speaking with Gage, who, by the way, is all in for whatever she has to say to him. He points his finger up at her then gestures over at Gunner. What the fuck does she have planned? This catches my interest.
Sophia stands up. When she does, her eyes are locked on mine again. They’re dancing and her sweet mouth is closed tight, pushing out her soft lips but the one side is slowly curling up. Looking back at her, I can tell she sees my confusion.
She spins around and bends over -
fucking deliberately
,
Christ-
as she takes her sweet time to retrieve another drink from the fridge, showing off her fucking tight ass in all its glory. The other guys better not be fucking checking her out!
I already scoped that ass out last time she was there grabbing her first drink, and I had to try and cover up what I was doing. But my girl is fucking purposely teasing the fuck right out of me and this shit right here pisses me off. I have to leave and clear my fucking head and keep my dick in check.
Fucking furious, I stomp over to the door. I have to escape. When I’m finally the hell out of there, I scrub my face roughly with my hands. I swear to God, that fucking woman is going to be the death of me.
I now need a drink. Walking over to the bar Lux has set up just outside the kitchen, I yank open the mahogany door and grab the full bottle of Jack, not even thinking about getting a glass. I practically break the damn cap off the neck as my hand roughly squeezes around it to pull off.
I bring the Jack up to my lips and let the warm liquid pour into my mouth, burning my tongue and throat as it makes its way down. Standing there with the Jack in my hand, I breathe in deeply and exhale through my nose as my mouth painfully clenches shut.
I need her so fucking bad that every fiber of me physically aches. I can’t go back in there yet; I need more time. Besides, I don’t want to stick around and watch whatever idea she has going on. The guys will be a while, too. Today is pretty much trying to get the sound and rhythm down so we have an idea to go off of.
I bring the bottle with me upstairs to my room to chill out for a bit. Setting the Jack down beside my bed, I step over to the window to close the shades. I need it dark so I can just let go of everything and release this tension I have going on inside me right now. Picking up the bottle from the floor, I sit on my bed and lean back against the headboard. Grabbing the remote for Sirius, I select Octane. Machinehead’s
“Darkness Within” starts playing and I bring the bottle back up to my mouth for another drink.
************
The bottle is half gone now, and I think I’m about ready to head back out. Glancing down at my phone, I notice that I was in here for almost two hours.
Before going into the studio I place the bottle back in the cabinet, hearing faint sounds of laughter coming through the door. Placing my mask back on, I swing it open.
Sophia must be buzzed a little, because she’s sitting at Gunner’s set, fucking around. Caleb is leaning over Gage, laughing while playing with some keys. Dave and Ryan are sitting on the couch, smoking a joint, laughing so hard that Ryan looks like he has no eyes.
What the fuck?
“Hey!” I shout and everyone stops suddenly. Everyone but Sophia. She just rolls her eyes at me, giggling still. I hate that she’s so . . . disobedient at times. Pointing down at Gage while scanning the room, I yell again.
“What the fuck is going on? We got shit to do!” I don’t know why I’m being such a hard ass . . . I don’t care what they do. I guess I’m still pissed at Sophia. Caleb looks over his shoulder at me and smirks.
“Um . . . yeah, it’s going good. Just taking a little-”
“Why the fuck does it matter?” Sophia interrupts with her head tilted to the side. “You haven’t been doing shit, really, and you weren’t even in here. It’s going good and we don’t need you around telling us what to fucking do!”
She uses air quotes the last part, then tosses the drumsticks to the floor and stands up. Caleb turns quickly and tries to cover up a laugh and the other guys are trying to busy themselves with other things.
Oh, my girl is getting fucking feisty again. I come up on her so fast that her eyes actually widen. I faintly hear Caleb behind me now.
“Hey man, relax.”
Fuck that! Once I’m on her, her breasts are practically rubbing up against my bare chest. I lean forward so that my face is an inch away from hers. She’s frozen, but she doesn’t back down, either. I know she’s nervous, but she’s trying to cover it up.
“First off, watch your fucking mouth.” I say so quietly no one around us can pick it up. “Don’t-” I lift my finger, pointing it in her face as I step back a little. “Don’t fucking say I don’t do shit! I work my ass off and we need to stay focused out here.” I move in closer again and this time she actually backs up, but I’m still on her. This time I bend my neck downward so that my lips are barely grazing the soft skin below her ear. “And maybe if you would just stop fucking sticking that sweet ass out in front of me on purpose . . .maybe, I would’ve fucking stayed and got some work done.”
I slowly step back off her now, narrowing my eyes, but I have a sly grin on my face. Crossing my arms over my chest again, I lean back. She’s breathing heavier now through her nose and the look she’s giving me would strike any man dead right now. She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s pissed. Before she can say anything back though, I look over at Dave.
“Hey! You and Caleb good for now?” I ask him to try and get things moving again and to stop the stares that I can feel on me. Dave, leaning over his knees, glances at Caleb.
“Ah . . . yeah.”
“We were just getting ready for Gage to do some work on the material we have so far and will probably get back at it tomorrow. He wants you two.” Caleb gestures with his hand toward Sophia and me. “To have the day tomorrow.” Giving him a quick nod, I leave the room.
Sophia
Holy shit, I’m so totally screwed. Once the door clicks shut behind Tristan, I try to gather myself. The rest of the guys follow his lead and leave the room except for Caleb and Gage. Gage is busy doing his thing but Caleb has this shit-eating grin on his face. I stare back at him blankly.
“You hungry?” he asks, looking over at me.
Hungry? Hungry for what? Oh, food! I clear my thoughts of where they were leading me.
“Yeah, I think the Merlot hit me a little hard with no food in my stomach,” I say back to him. Laughing to myself, I suddenly feel awkward. Caleb is over at the door, holding it open for me.
“Well, we’re going to grill out tonight. Lux has this place fully stocked. Do you like steak?”
I nod ‘yes’ at him.
“Cool, I’m a master chef you know.” He winks at me and I giggle back at him, giving him a disbelieving look as I step out of the studio. Some of the guys I can see are already heading over to the pool, but Tristan and Dave are sitting up at the island. I don’t want to seem rude or like a loner by hiding out in my room, but with Tristan’s sudden admission I don’t want to be anywhere near him, either.
Ryan and Gunner are sitting at the table by the pool, so I pull up a chair. Caleb is busying himself in the kitchen with Dave and Tristan. Taking a seat, I glance over my shoulder and I see Tristan is actually prepping the steaks.
Weird.
I never would have thought of him actually doing something like that.
Music starts playing loudly from inside the house and I see Caleb’s head banging while trying to cut vegetables. The sight of it makes me smile. Gunner clears his throat, turning my attention back to him.
“So, what do you think of it so far, Soph?”
“Not bad,” I shrug, smiling back at him. “Honestly, I thought it was going to be a little crazier than this.” I motion my hand around the table. “My guys . . . well, Roger . . . can get pretty ridiculous sometimes. In a good way, of course.”
Gunner starts laughing back at me and I raise my eyebrow at him. Wiping his mouth off in one fluid motion with his hand, he leans back into his chair, then laces his fingers together and places his hands behind his head.
“Sweetheart, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”
Ryan grunts to himself and gets up to leave the table, making his way into the kitchen to help out the other guys, I assume. Staring back at Gunner, I lean onto the table, resting my forearms on top.
“I’m sure I can handle it.”
Does he remember how my boys are?
Laughing at me, he places his hands back on the tabletop, too.
“Oh, I don’t know about
that
.”
I don’t know if it’s his tone when he said that last part or maybe because he was staring into the kitchen at I think I know who, but . . . I can feel goosebumps growing on my skin and a shiver runs down my spine.
Fuck.
I don’t know why I feel cold all of a sudden; it’s like freaking ninety degrees out here.
After taking a moment, I decide to just blow it off. I know what Tristan is doing; he’s done it before, only this time, I’m stronger. I will not bend under him. With my newfound state of mind, I excuse myself from Gunner and head into the kitchen. I don’t want to miss any of this experience with the rest of the guys because of a certain someone.
Tristan is now tossing the steaks on a large platter while Caleb is still chopping the vegetables.
“Need help with anything?” I ask, clearing my throat so it doesn’t sound mousy or some shit.
All three of them stop what they’re doing and look up at me. Keeping my eyes off of Tristan, I stare at Caleb and Dave. Ryan is back in his own little world, carefully peeling the potatoes. Caleb, always smiling, is the first to speak up.
“Uh, yeah . . . if you want to. Dinner is pretty much set.” He stops and smirks over at Tristan, then looks directly back at me.
“How about you do dessert?” His voice comes off as almost teasing now, and he winks before he looks back down, laughing at himself.
Curiosity getting the best of me, I glance over at Tristan, who has a hard glare trained on Caleb.
Okay, dessert?
I can do that. I wonder what Lux has here?
Taking the longer way around to the fridge so I don’t have to walk by Tristan, I take note of the guys in here getting dinner prepped. I want to laugh at the sight of these big, tattooed men all domesticated and shit.
Tristan ends up taking off outside to start the grill, I assume, and Caleb is fixing the salad. Ryan is still slowly peeling the potatoes.
Shit.
By the time dinner is ready, he’ll just be finishing up with them damn things.
Lux’s fridge is well stocked.
Holy shit!
Everything you can possibly think of is in here. Checking everything out, I see lots of fruit from the island, like pineapples, mangos, dragon fruit, and coconuts, just to name a few.
Propping myself up against the side of the door, I think back to that TV show Chopped. What can I make with this and it still be awesome? Grabbing at a bunch of fruit, I start filling my arms right up. I’m going with mangos and pineapple. I think I might have some time to do what I want to do, since Tristan has to wait for the charcoal to turn white before he’s ready for the steaks to go on.
I decide on making mango and pineapple tarts. I figure while they’re baking, the steaks will be on the grill. Placing the mangos down first, I grab a knife from the drawer. Ryan stops for a moment and checks out what I’m doing. By the time I’m done with chopping the mangos, I have three bowls placed in front of me. Peeking up real quick, I notice that Tristan doesn’t have the steaks on yet, so I think I may have time.
God, I hope this turns out. Back in LA, I never really bake that much. I either order out or eat something simple like organic dinners, that kind of shit. My mom’s big on organic but my father’s Italian; he taught me well. When I was younger, he always made me help him when getting dinner ready.
Smiling to myself at the memory, I start mixing the rest of the batter together. I faintly hear Ryan’s voice.
“Cool,” is all he says to me before placing the wedge pieces of the potatoes in a bowl of cold water. I’m actually kind of surprised. At first, I thought he was going to try and bake, or even mash them. But he’s making homemade fries and actually knows to let them soak in cold water first before frying.
Leaning over the range, I set the oven to 350 as I start to fill the mini crusts up with the filling. When I know it’s at temperature, I carefully place the small tins into the oven. Now I just have to wait thirty to forty-five minutes.
Dave strides into the kitchen again, peering down into the bowl of water that is holding the fries. Staring back at Ryan, he starts messing with him.
“Man, what the fuck?” He points at the bowl, but Ryan shrugs casually.
“What, man? My mom always said you have to let the shit soak in cold water before frying them.” I laugh at them because they kind of remind me of Roger and Jared.
Dave glances over at me and smirks.
“What did you decide to make, Soph?”
Finishing washing my hands off, I start patting them dry with a towel.
“Just some tarts, but I don’t know if they’re gonna turn out.”
Giving him a half smile, I shrug my shoulders and turn to check the pool area out again. If I wasn’t so tired from traveling and working today, I would so be soaking in that Jacuzzi tonight. But maybe tomorrow, since I know working with Tristan all day on vocals is probably going to drain me.
As soon as I start walking around the perimeter of the pool -well not
completely
around it since most of one side has so many plants and even a small, rock waterfall but enough to really scope out the Jacuzzi, at least- I begin to smell the steaks grilling. My stomach growls instantly at the scent. I can’t wait to eat and then pass out.
The Jacuzzi is nestled back in the far right corner. Even though it’s by the pool, the design and all of the lush plants give it its own private feel. Dipping my toe into the water, I start to feel that familiar heat on the back on my neck I get whenever Tristan is watching me. I don’t want to turn around, so I pull my phone out of my back pocket and check the time. Even though I set the alarm on the oven, I want to make sure I don’t burn my little experiment. It also makes it look like I’m oblivious to Tristan’s stare.
Just moseying around the back here, I continue to let my mind relax and enjoy this beautiful place. I begin to hear Caleb and Gunner cracking up and when I glance over there, they’re sitting at the table with beers in hand, watching Ryan talking, gesturing something with his hands. Tristan is turned away, looking down at the grill but his back muscles tense at whatever Ryan is doing or saying. Probably giving him some kind of hard time, probably about me, I presume.
I start to feel a little lonely now. I can’t call Benny because he’s probably flying back out to LA right now or getting ready to. Damn, I feel bad for him. Not only because of his deal falling through, but all of that travel in such a short amount of time. It’s one thing to be traveling for tours, but back-to-back flights over the Atlantic?
Shit.
I even feel jet-lagged for the guy.
I hear Dave calling for me, pulling me out of my daze as I stare at the softly rippling pool water.
“Hey, Soph! I think your Tatas or whatever are done!”
The rest of the guys start freaking out, laughing so hard. Tristan is still looking away, shaking his head. Rolling my eyes, smiling, I begin to walk back to the house, ignoring them.
“What in the hell did you make, Sophia?” Gunner asks me, cackling between words and Caleb leans back, rubbing his neck with one hand, grinning.
“Tatas. Mmm . . . I bet coming from you, they would be delicious.”
Flipping him off, I laugh him off.
“They’re fucking tarts, Caleb, not Tatas,” I hear Ryan call out.
“
Fucking tarts?
That’s even better!”
Giggling a little to myself, I shake my head again. Caleb is such a pervert. He’s sweet, but the more time I hang around with him I can see he’s a jokester, too. It’s so funny to me because if you were to judge by looks, you might think a six foot tall dude with muscles and piercings all over would be a little more severe.
Everything is placed on the patio table and I have the tarts I just baked cooling down on the island inside. It’s a simple dinner, but everything looks mouthwatering. The steaks are so huge that they almost remind me of the “Old ’96er” steak from that movie,
The Great Outdoors.
Obviously not exactly like it, but still, they’re some pretty fucking big steaks. With them are Caleb’s simple salad and the homemade fries Ryan made, and they look delicious, too.
I already know I won’t be able to eat a full steak, so leaning over a little, I take my steak knife and begin cutting one of them in half.
“Too much for ya, Soph?”
I peek up real quick at Dave before going back to what I was doing. Dave grabs a couple handfuls of fries and tosses them on his plate. Once I have my steak and salad made, I take only a few fries from the bowl and take a seat. I can’t freaking wait!
Most of the dinner goes by in silence as the guys stuff their faces, sometimes coming up for air and bullshitting a little. Tristan doesn’t say a word the entire time, though. His massive body is bent over the table as he leans on his elbows, lazily moving his fork around the plate. I can’t help but stare at him this time, watching how his jaw works as he chews on his food and even how his Adam’s apple moves the food down his throat. In some fucking strange way, I like to look at him. I think it’s hot. Oh, it also could be that, I don’t know . . .
he still doesn’t have a damn shirt on
!
Quiet Ryan beside me gently takes a hold of my wrist and easily twists it toward him, breaking me out of my Tristan trance. My hand is still holding the fork. I give him a puzzled look.
“Fucking sweet tat, Sophia! Is this your only one?”
He studies Cory’s name etched into my skin. The rest of the guys pause for a moment to look over at my wrist, which is still in Ryan’s hand. Hurrying up and looking away from Tristan, who probably caught me staring at him again, I swallow the rest of my food and clear my throat.
“Yeah, it is. First and only. The rest of my boys have the same one, too. Well, besides Jeff. We all have Cory’s name on our right wrist but the lettering is different for each of us.”
Ryan starts outlining Cory’s name and I begin to feel awkward as I hear Tristan, distinctively, clearing his throat; almost like he doesn’t want Ryan touching me or something.
Giving Ryan a small smile, I wiggle my wrist away and go back to finishing my steak. He observes my wrist as I bring the fork up to my mouth.
“That is some pretty fucking sweet work there. It looks like it’s almost tearing through your skin.”
When I’m done with that bite, I respond to him.
“Yeah, that was kind of the idea I had in mind, almost like frost, for some reason. How it splinters on windshields or windowpanes. I always thought that image looked sweet and also . . .”