No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (29 page)

“Sure, sure. It’s what we do and who we are, definitely,” replied Phil.

“What’s the inspiration behind the branching out then? What makes you guys want to push the boundaries of your music?”

“Well, we do it for ourselves really,” said Phil.

“You guys have had enormous success with your new single, ‘Louisiana Baby.’ After the concert in Rio, people went absolutely berserk for it, so much so that you had to record a version for radio play. Since then, it has blown off the charts, and it has been sitting at number one for the last three weeks. Why do you think it’s gotten so much attention?”

Phil and Jason laughed—and there was the subtle hint of Jason’s whistling nose, which cracked the three of us up.

“I was actually talkin’ to my woman about this today, and she called it a pop song,” said Phil, laughing. “She said it’s basic and catchy, and that’s why so many people identify with it. It broke my heart because, God love her, she speaks the truth.”

“Oh, man,” said Jason in a dejected voice. He proceeded to burst out laughing and whistling.

DJ Raina was laughing, too. “Isn’t your woman the infamous Baby Girl?”

“Ha-ha, yeah! And she’s such a music snob that she can’t even stand the pop song I wrote for her!”

Alys, Sheri, and I were wheezing from laughing that hard.

“Phil thinks I’m a music snob!” I cried. “What a douche!”

“You totally are!” said Alys. “You always have been!”

“Well then, you’re also included under that title, Muffin. You’re just as much a music snob as I am.”

“Considering it’s the only thing we’re snobby about, I’ll wear that title with pride.”

We listened for the next hour and forty-five minutes to several of their songs with the most caller requests, and the guys answered a few questions from their fans. Phil and Jason each selected two songs to play. Phil went for Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir”—for which I flushed slightly, but neither Alys nor Sheri noticed—and “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”
by Blue Oyster Cult. Jason chose “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd and “War Pigs” by Black Sabbath.

“Thanks for tuning in to the
Mad for Metal Hour
with myself, DJ Raina, and our gorgeous guests, Phil Deveraux and Jason Jones, of NOLA’s Junk!” said the DJ before signing off.

“
Gorgeous
guests?” Alys huffed. “Shameless hussy!”

Sheri and I cracked up.

“Well, they
are
quite beautiful,” said Sheri. “In completely different ways.”

I nodded. “That they are.” Stretching and yawning, I stood up. “I’m headed for bed. See you guys tomorrow.”

Phil said he would text me when they were finished. It was nearly one o’clock, and I hadn’t heard anything. My phone was resting on my chest, just waiting for the chime and buzz.

Jackass. Why hasn’t he texted me yet? Should I just call him?

Pride was a funny thing, and I was warring with myself over the fact that I wanted to hear his voice, but I wanted him to establish contact like he’d said he would.

Quit being a little bitch and call him!

Snapping open my phone, I speed-dialed him, hating myself a little for being such a knob.

“Hey,” he answered after the first ring.

“Hey. I’m going to sleep now. Just wanted to say good night.”

I could hear several people in the background, and a few of those voices were female.

Do
not
ask about them!

“All right. We just got back to Darren’s. X and Flipper made it.”

“Okay.”

“Did you listen in?”

“Of course. Thanks for calling me out as a snob,” I grumped. If I refused to let myself get riled up by some women hanging out with them, the least I could do was bust his balls for making me sound stuck-up on the air.

“You know it’s true,” he replied.

I heard the grin in his voice.

“Hey, Phil! Come take a Jell-O shot out of my belly button!” a woman called out.

“Uh, yeah…no.” He laughed.

“Seriously?” I fumed.

“Not gonna happen, Baby Girl,” he stated, sounding indignant.

“Ugh! Do you know what sort of bacteria grows in a navel?”

He burst out laughing. “Fuck, I miss you. I’m actually just gonna finish up my beer and crash.”

“Really? ’Cause it sounds like you guys are partying like rock stars.”

“Naw, a few old friends, people we went to school with, dropped by to say hi. I don’t think Darren’s too happy about it, to be honest. He wants to be well rested for tomorrow.”

“You let X know I’m telling Alys what shenanigans you all are up to—like, I’m getting out of bed as we speak.” I opened my bedroom door and called out, “Alys!”

“Yeah?” came her voice from the bathroom across the hall.

“Damn, Kenna,” grumbled Phil.

“The guys are throwing a get-together with some old friends from high school, and there are bitches asking them to take Jell-O shots out of their navels!”

“
What
?”

Sheri’s laughter tinkled up from downstairs.

“I’ll be sure to book you for an oral culture at the end of the week to determine if there’s any funky navel fungus growing in your mouth. That way, we can bust X for putting
his
mouth where it doesn’t belong!”

I heard the toilet flush, and she wrenched the door open a couple of seconds later.

“I’m going to murder that soulless ginger if he brings me home anything out of anyone’s funky fucking navel!”

Phil was losing it on the other end of the line.

“Well, good night,” I said, flopping back into bed.

“Hey! Not so fast, woman!”

“Pfft! You call me a snob on the air, keep me waiting to hear from you, and then get offered to suck alcohol off a woman’s fungus-riddled navel while you’re talking to your girlfriend. Real slick, ass. I’ll talk to you tomorrow—”

“Kenna, you can’t seriously be pissed at me—”

“Sure I can. Night.” I hung up.

He called back immediately.

“Hello?” I answered, sounding all innocent and cheerful.

“Woman—”

“Oh, hey, babe! Thanks for getting in touch with me like you said you would!”

“I’m gonna beat your perfect ass when I get home—”

“Mmm…I hope so,” I said in a husky deep voice.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck.”

“I’m hoping for some of that, too,” I told him.

I noticed that it was quiet on his end, except for his breathing.

“Are you alone?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m in my room. What are you wearin’?”

“Nothing,” I replied, lying for the sake of what just might be coming up. “What are you wearing?”

The sound of the phone being tossed and the rustling of Phil wrenching his clothes off filled my ear. My eyes scrunched up, and I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing.

“Nothin’,” he finally replied when he got back on the phone. “Are you wet for me?”

“Always.”

He groaned softly. “Fuck, I wish you were here.”

“What would I be doing to you if I were?”

“I’m thinkin’ I want you sittin’ on my face while you suck me off.”

The image of that sent lovely throbbing hot sensations from my nipples to my clit. Slipping my hand under my pajama shorts, I started to rub myself.

“Yeah…I think I like that idea. We’ll have to do that real soon.”

“Why the hell haven’t we done it yet?” he demanded.

I busted out laughing.

“I’m fuckin’ serious!” he exclaimed.

“Hey, are we going to have a discussion, or are going to have phone sex?”

“Both. You touchin’ yourself?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah. I can’t fuckin’ turn it off when it comes to you. All I have to do is think of you, and my dick gets hard. I’m fuckin’ raw right now and still have to whack off.”

We talked dirty to each other through our mutual orgasms, and once we got that out of our systems, we were able to just…talk. He told me about the people who had shown up, that they were all a part of a clique in high school. The girl who had asked him to take a Jell-O shot was an ex of Jason’s, and no, Jason wouldn’t hit that shit again. Phil was pretty sure she was doing it only to get a reaction out of the golden guitarist.

“Ridiculous,” I huffed. “You’re the hot one in the band.”

Phil cracked up at that.

“It’s true,” I insisted.

“Glad to hear you think so,” he replied.

“I’m not the only one, babe.”

“You’re the only one who counts.”

“So, tell me what your tattoo is going to be.” I sneak attacked that on him.

“No. You’ll see it tomorrow.”

“Oh, all right,” I grumped.

He laughed. “You know what I love the most?”

“What’s that?”

“That after all the fantasies I’ve had of you, how I imagined what kind of person you were, how we would be…the real thing is so much better. It’s like my imagination couldn’t see you as anythin’ but this untouchable holy goddess. But you really are just so down-to-earth and…
funny
. You’re constantly makin’ me laugh and smile, and I love it. I love how natural all of this is. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life worshipin’ you, but you don’t want that. You just want…me.”

My heart swelled, warming with his little speech. “You’re
all
I’ve ever wanted, Phil. Just you.”

Sleep was rough.

As I hauled my ass out of bed the next morning, I realized that it sucked having my bed all to myself.

After Phil and I had hung up last night around three in the morning, I’d tossed and turned, needing to feel his huge warm body sleeping next to me. Without him, it was as though I couldn’t settle down.

Sheri was all smiles as she joined me on the porch for morning yoga
.

The bitch
.

Hell, she looked adorable, all puffy-eyed from her five hours of solid sleep. I was sure I resembled the ogre I felt on the inside. An hour of yoga had us both stretched out, warmed up, and ready for whatever we had to accomplish for the day.

“Good morning, Lucy,” I called out as I walked into the clinic, hearing Jack Johnson playing his soothing groovy tunes.

“Good morning, Dr. MacGregor.”

It was just another day at work. I was hoping exhaustion was causing my lack of enthusiasm and irritability with having to be here and not the suppressed thoughts of a woman who suddenly found herself dissatisfied with her career.

Right before my lunch break, I got a text from
Your Phil
.

Call me if you’re free. I love you. <3

“Hey, Baby Girl.” His voice sounded so sweet amid the buzzing of tattoo machines in the background.

“Hey,” I replied, hearing the dejected note in my own voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I miss you,” I snapped.

He chuckled warmly on his end.

“It’s not funny. I couldn’t fall asleep last night.”

“Me neither. I just lay there, wishin’ you were next to me.”

“It isn’t right, Phil,” I stated, sounding annoyed. “It’s not healthy to be so codependent on someone.”

“Oh, well. It is what it is. Honestly…I kinda like it.”

“You would,” I retorted all grumpy.

He sighed. “I know. But as not right as it might seem, maybe it just means that you ’n’ me are very,
very
right.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “How’s the tattoo coming along?”

“Great. We should be done in a couple of hours, and then I’m headin’ home to you.”

“What is it?”

I could practically hear him smiling through the phone.

“You’ll see.”

“Ass.”

“I’m
your
ass, so get used to it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Anythin’ else botherin’ you?”

How in hell does he know me so well?

“Not really. Just grumpy overall, I suppose.”

“Kenna…”

“
Phil.
Really, it’s nothing I need to talk about, okay?”

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.”

“I do. I just don’t know exactly what it is myself, so it can wait until I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Just say it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Heaving a sigh, I closed my eyes and whispered, “I’m starting to question my choice of career, and I blame you. I was perfectly happy where I was until you started forcing me to analyze my life and question my contentment. I’m upset because I used to really want to do this, and I don’t know what to do because I can’t quit—not now, not after everything, and…”