Sed pretended to shudder with fear.
“And I’m telling Jessica.”
Sed took what was left of his cone and stuck it upside down on Eric’s shoulder.
“Dude, knock it off. I’m trying to f**kin’ drive!”
Heh, I win.
Halfway to Los Angeles, Sed leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. The rumble of the engine, with its consistent knock, must have lured him to sleep, because the next thing he knew, they were sputtering to a stop inside a parking garage near the recording studio. The engine coughed, then died.
“Nice nap, douche bag?” Eric asked, drawing his lean body over the driver’s side door and leaving a sticky puddle behind in the driver’s seat.
Sed nodded drowsily. He supposed he was still a pint or two low on blood, and that half an ice cream cone hadn’t been exactly filling.
Rubbing his eyes, Sed followed Eric into the building and the appropriate recording booth. Brian and Trey were in the studio wailing on their guitars. Without a doubt, the new album was going to be their best yet.
Assuming Sed’s voice returned.
“Where’s Jace?” Sed asked, noting one member of the group was absent.
“No telling,” Eric said. “I swear he’s an international spy. He just comes and goes as he pleases. No one can keep track of him. He’s probably off with his dominatrix chick again. Or smuggling tomatoes across the Mexican border.”
Oh yes, Jace Seymour, international tomato smuggler.
Sed sat next to the soundboard operator. He leaned with rapt attention toward the glass that separated him from his guitarists, suddenly in awe that he worked with these talented motherfuckers. When the current take came to an end, Trey waved at the window.
“Perfect. We got it,” the operator said into a microphone. “Why don’t you guys take a little break? Your fingers must be exhausted.”
Trey and Brian removed their guitars and left the studio to enter the booth.
“They let you out of prison already?” Trey said. “I was stuck in there for days and days.”
“My injury wasn’t as serious as yours.”
“Looked pretty f**kin’ serious to me,” Trey said. “What did the doctor say?”
Eric reached into his vest and produced a roll of duct tape. “I’ll tell them. You keep quiet.”
Sed nodded.
“He needs to check with a specialist in a few days and get the all clear before he’ll be allowed to sing. He might be okay before our next tour date, but if not, we’re cancelling the show.”
“No, we are not cancelling any shows. I’ll be fine. I guarantee it.”
Eric ripped a piece of tape off the roll and waved it in Sed’s face. “Quiet, vocal one.”
Sed rolled his eyes at Eric and glanced at Trey and Brian. “Sorry to mess up the recording schedule.”
Eric stuck the tape over Sed’s mouth. “I warned you.”
“Don’t worry about recording right now,” Trey said. “We can wait a while to record vocals. We’ll get Eric in here next.”
“And then Jace,” Brian added. “Seriously, don’t worry about it, Sed.”
Sed peeled the tape off his mouth, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at Eric.
Trey’s brow furrowed as his gaze followed the trajectory of the tape ball. “Did you piss your pants, Eric?”
“Sed did it.”
“Sed pissed your pants?” Trey shook his head slightly. “Man, that takes pissed off to a whole new level.”
“I think that’s pissed on, not off,” Brian said.
“Yeah, and I’m telling Jessica. She’ll probably break up with you for this, Sed.”
“Not likely.”
Brian and Trey exchanged glances.
“Does this mean you two are together now?” Brian asked.
Sed lowered his gaze. Brian wasn’t too fond of Jessica. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that they’d solidified their relationship.
“They’re pretty serious,” Eric said, in full-out gloat-mode.
“How serious?” Brian asked.
“Exclusive,” Sed murmured.
Trey beamed. “Congratulations, man!”
Sed smiled a thanks and then turned his attention to Brian. Brian’s intense gaze didn’t waver from his face. “So when are you going to ask her to marry you?” Brian asked. “Soon, I hope.”
Sed gaped at him.
Brian grinned crookedly. “I mean, you love her, right?”
“Yeah, of course I love her.”
“Will you just blink, goddammit?” Eric bellowed.
“Blink?” Brian asked.
“That’s how he’s supposed to say yes, instead of talking.” Eric peeled another piece of duct tape from the roll.
Sed flipped him off. “This is how I say f**k you, instead of talking.” He seized the tape from Eric’s hand.
“Jessica will definitely cancel your surprise over this.”
If Sed hadn’t been so curious about this surprise of Jessica’s, he would have punched Eric in the forehead and given him a real reason to tattle.
“So are you going to ask her?” Brian pressed. “Soon?”
Sed hesitated, glanced sidelong at Eric, sighed, and then blinked.
“Awesome,” Trey said with an unusual level of enthusiasm and a smug look sent in Eric’s direction. Sed wondered why they were acting so weird about it. “How did you ask Myrna to marry you?” Trey asked Brian.
Brian chuckled. “Which time?”
“I was there the first time,” Eric said.
“That’s right, you were.”
“He got rejected.”
“Thanks for the reminder, Sticks. I eventually wore her down.”
Trey thumped Brian on the back. “Of course you did, stud.”
“You know, Sed,” Brian said, “if Jessica hadn’t broken your heart, you wouldn’t have been interested in my girlfriends, they wouldn’t have cheated on me, and then I might have never met Myrna. Things happen for a reason.”
Sed chuckled. “Strange bit of logic there, Brian. Sorry about all that crap I put you through.”
Brian shrugged. “It all turned out for the best.”
Brian was such a great guy. Understanding. Forgiving. Sed wanted him to be the best man at his wedding.
Brian grinned. “Myrna’s going to injure me severely for telling you guys this, but we’re trying to get pregnant.”
“Already? Jeez, the honeymoon isn’t even over yet,” Eric said.