He didn’t look like it had been a good thing.
He scoffed. “It should have been. Fucking prick.”
I fiddled with my fingernails and tucked my legs up underneath me. “Did the scout not like your band?”
“He liked me,” he said plainly.
He was fuming and trying desperately not to show it. I wondered how often he talked to people about the shit in his life because he seemed incredibly uncomfortable with it. I couldn’t blame him though. It wasn’t like I was particularly forthright about my own life.
“I’m not following.”
He jumped out of his seat and stomped angrily across the room. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, and the muscles in his arms bulged. I noticed a tattoo peeking out of his shirt on his bicep, but I couldn’t really see what it was.
“They wanted me but not the band. They offered to sign me if I left ContraBand.”
It sounded like a pretty shitty deal if he was that invested in the band, but maybe he just wanted to be famous. Looking at his scowling face, I couldn’t see that being the case.
“I’m guessing you didn’t do it?”
“Do I look like a f**king sellout to you?”
I glared at him. “Don’t yell at me! I was just asking. You’re the one telling me about your shitty night. I don’t have to listen!”
“Fine. I didn’t mean to blow up. I’m just…I’m not a f**king sellout.”
“I never said you were. I just thought you might want this as a career, and someone offered it to you, so it makes sense that you might have taken it. I guess I was wrong.” I crossed my arms and gritted my teeth.
I had asked him one simple question, and he didn’t have to be such an ass about it.
“As long as I have my guitar, I’m f**king solid.” He mirrored me and crossed his arms. “The band isn’t just a band. Those guys are my brothers. It would be like getting rid of family, and I’m not f**king doing that.”
That was probably the nicest thing I’d ever heard come out of Grant’s mouth, and we’d managed to have a semblance of a conversation without him making some dick sexual reference.
“Then, it sounds like you made the right choice. Why are you so pissed off about it?”
He shrugged and turned.
I stared at his profile. His jaw was strong and defined with stubble growing in. His lips were full, and his nose was angular. I could make out his high cheekbones and the intensity of his gaze.
“Grant?” I prompted.
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Are you just going to stand there all night and try to figure it out?”
“I’d rather get back to my nine-tenths, princess,” he said, walking back over to me and sitting down.
I stood hastily. “I don’t think so, Prince Charming.”
Grant laughed at the nickname and leaned back casually on the couch. “Charming, huh?”
“Or maybe you’re actually a frog.”
“Does that mean I get to kiss you again?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You know, I think what irritates me is that I can’t release my frustration. Are you sure you can’t help with that?”
I rolled my eyes. Nice try. “Not a chance. You should probably go actually, so I can go to sleep.”
“Want some company?” He stood and his fingertips circled my waist, drawing me toward him.
How did he do that so easily?
“Um…no company.”
Seeing that I wasn’t going to change my mind, he grumbled something under his breath. “All right.”
He trudged across the room, and I followed him.
He reached for the door. “So, Ari, can I see you again?”
I smiled despite myself. He’d used my name. Even if it was a shortened version of it, it was my name. Improvement.
“Do I have much of a choice?” I asked, knowing that it wasn’t likely.
“No, not really.”
“Relentless, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, slipping my hand into his and pulling me into him.
I didn’t even fight him this time.
My arm wound around his neck as he dipped his head and placed a kiss firmly on my lips. It wasn’t the fiery passion and deliriousness of the last one, but this one was a promise. He was telling me that I would be seeing more of him whether I wanted to or not, and my answering kiss betrayed the fact that I wanted to.
Chapter 11: Grant
It was official. Aribel f**ked me up. The ass**le at the record label be damned, Ari was the one driving me mad. I’d kissed a lot of girls, and not a single one of them had I thought about longer than a fleeting moment. I’d say I didn’t f**k girls twice, but I couldn’t remember them long enough to know if that were true.
So, why had I driven all the way from the city to see Aribel without the promise of some ass? In fact, I’d been certain she would turn me down. But something about her had made me want to try for it anyway. Maybe it had been the way she put up a fight, her reactions to me kissing and touching her, or her f**king bullshit banter.
And who is the pu**y that had taken over my body when I opened up and told her about the band? Any other girl, I would have just f**ked until I forgot about it, but no, not Ari. She wouldn’t let me forget about it. She wouldn’t even let me keep kissing her.
I’d thought that maybe since I told someone about what had happened with the label, it would be easier to tell my boys about what had gone down when I stayed behind. But it wasn’t.
I walked into the garage for our regularly scheduled band rehearsal the next afternoon, and all the guys were sitting around on couches, not touching their instruments. Yeah, I’d seen this coming.
“Rehearsal is canceled. We’re going to get beers,” McAvoy told me with a nod.
“All right,” I said. “Want me to drive?”
Miller shrugged as he walked past me and out of the garage. So, he’s pissed. Well, aren’t we all? Last night hadn’t gone down how any of us anticipated.
“That means, yes, dick,” Vin said, punching me on the arm, as he followed Miller out.
“Are they going to hate on me all night?” I asked McAvoy.
“It’ll blow over, dude,” McAvoy said, holding a joint between his fingers. “Want some before we go?”