Ball Peen Hammer (40 page)

But Zander doesn’t laugh. In fact, he’s strangely quiet.

“What?” I ask.

“What’s going on, Peenie?”

“I’m... What do you mean? Maddy and I are doing a friends-with-benefits thing, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Well, we are.”

“Sure seems like a helluva lot more than that.”

I let out a puff of air, surprised. “Nope. Just having good times with a particularly delicious cookie I stole from a jar.”

Zander looks perturbed. “I think maybe you’re giving out some mixed signals to this girl, Peenie.”

“Pfft. Absolutely nothing
mixed
here, baby doll, except maybe a little cookie dough, if you know what I mean.” I wink and flash Zander my dimples, but he’s not having it. I exhale. “Dude, no worries, okay? Maddy and I had ‘the talk’ right from the start and we both agreed to fling from the rafters all the livelong day. No mixed signals—no one gets hurt—everything’s clear.”

Zander glances across the room covertly and then back at me. “At lunch with everyone today, I saw you secretly grab Maddy’s hand under the table.”

I feel my cheeks flush. “So?”

“So she looked
really
happy when you did that.”

“Yeah? So what? A guy can’t secretly hold hands with the chick he’s flinging with?”

Zander shrugs. “Not usually. In fact, that little hand-holding maneuver looked a whole lot like good ol’ fashioned
affection
, baby doll—like grade-school butterflies. Nothing fling-y about it. Peenie, you only let go of her hand when the food came.”

“Well, yeah. I like holding Maddy’s hand—so sue me. I told you the other day: she’s my
friend
. Friends hold hands.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Sure, they do. Well, sometimes they do.”

“I’m your friend and you never hold my hand.”

I reach for Zander’s hand and hold it tenderly for a long beat. “Feel better now?”

Zander shakes my hand off. “Be serious, Peen. I’m trying to tell you something important here.”

I wave him off. “You just don’t understand my friendship with Maddy. It’s unique. We held hands and cuddled before we ever even thought of having sex. It’s just what we do. I told you—she’s my adorbsicles, cutie patootie
friend
.”

“Well, don’t you think when you hold the hand of your adorbsicles, cutie patootie friend
after
having sex with her Lionel Richie style, a display of affection like secret hand-holding might send a subliminal message to the
relationship
-center in the girl’s brain?” Zander asks.

I clench my jaw. Zander just doesn’t understand Maddy and me. When it comes to Maddy, normal rules don’t apply. “Flinging with Maddy is different than flinging with some stupid chick I don’t even like,” I explain.

“Dude, you touch her
all the time
,” Zander says. “You move her hair outta her eyes. You touch her arm to get her attention, rather than just saying her name. Shit, Peenie, on the drive over here, in the space of three minutes, I saw you rub her neck, rest your hand on the
inside
of her thigh, and then kiss her motherfucking hand like you’re some sort of white knight in Camelot.”

“Wow, you’ve been keeping track of every time I touch her? That’s not creepy or anything, Z. You feeling left out, baby doll?”

“Dude, I’m not keeping track of shit—that’s my entire point. I’m just living my life in the same general vicinity as you, letting my eyes wander in all natural directions the way any normal person would do—and that’s all the shit I just so
happened
to witness between the two of you in a matter of
minutes
. Shit, Peenie, if I saw all
that
when I wasn’t even
watching
you, then what the fuck else are you doing to this poor girl when I don’t happen to glance in your direction?”

Okay, now I’m getting pissed—an emotion I don’t often feel toward Zander. This is the kind of third-degree I’d expect from Colby. “
’Poor girl’
?” I seethe in an angry whisper. “Hardly. I’m giving that girl the ride of her life, believe me. So what if I’ve gotten into the habit of touching Maddy outside the bedroom? During our road trip, we touched and cuddled and held hands all the time. That’s just how our friendship is.
We touch
. It just means we like each other. I like touching her. She’s a particularly affectionate person and I like that. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with it, unless you’re giving her the wrong idea.”

“I’m not. We talked about it. She understands.”

“What does she understand?”

“When I leave town and go back home, it’s over.”

“But can’t you see the way she looks at you?”

“Yeah—like I’m an idiot.” I snort.

Zander’s facial expression tells me he’s not amused. “No, Peenie. In fact, I think Maddy might be the only person in the entire world besides me who
doesn’t
look at you like you’re an idiot.”

I exhale and look up at the ceiling. “So what’s your point? Are you saying I’ve fucked up here by partaking in the dabble? Because I haven’t. Maddy’s the one who said we oughta do this fling-thing,
not me
. She said I could steal from the cookie jar while I’m here and she wouldn’t get hurt, so that’s exactly what I’m doing—I’m bingeing on cookies, but only while I’m in town. When I get back home, we’ve
both
agreed, like adults, that everything’s gonna go back to normal and we’re gonna be friends again and nobody will get hurt.”

Zander sighs.

“What the fuck, Zander? I just met this girl. I don’t even know her. There’s no alternative.”

Zander scoffs at that.

“I’m not like you, Z. I don’t fall head over heels when I see someone across a crowded room.”

“Too bad for you. It’s fun.”

“It’s not normal how you do that, bee tee dubs. I’ve been meaning to tell you—it’s totally
weird
.”

Z scoffs again. “Please don’t try to tell me what’s normal and what’s not, Peenie. I love you, man, so fucking much—but you’re seriously not the right person to teach me any life lessons about what’s
normal
.”

I grit my teeth.

“Baby doll, I’m just telling you to watch your step. Her heart’s on the line. It’s written all over her adorbsicles face. Be careful.”

“Goddammit, Z. Why are you telling me this? You know when I was on the road playing ball I couldn’t keep a girlfriend happy if my life depended on it—and I was fucking miserable whenever I tried. If that lifestyle taught me anything it’s that, if I’m gonna have a relationship with anyone, no matter who it is, it’s gotta be with a girl I can actually touch every fucking night of my life. I need that Z; it’s who I am. I’m not a guy who can have a girlfriend on FaceTime.”

“But isn’t the whole point of you auditioning with that agency ’cause you’re thinking about moving to L.A.?”

“Well, yeah,
if
the right opportunity presents itself,” I say. “But I’m not counting on anything. I’ve been disappointed before, I could be disappointed again. No expectations, man—that’s the key to happiness. Now stop stressing me out. You’re bad for my chi. For fuck’s sake, Zander, I’m telling you it was Maddy who suggested we—”

In the middle of my sentence, the door to the green room opens and Mr. Music Mogul himself, Reed Rivers, the man with my brother’s dreams in the palm of his hand, strides into the room—and, just like that, I completely forget whatever I was about to say.

Chapter 43

Keane

After entering the green room, The World’s Most Interesting Man heads over to Maddy, Dax, and his bandmates Fish and Colin on the other side of the room, not even glancing at Zander and me on the couch as he goes.

I stand, intending to cross the room and grab Maddy’s hand, but Reed’s comment stops me.

“No, don’t let me interrupt you,” Reed is saying to Dax. He motions toward the couch where Zander and I are sitting. “I’ll just hang out over there with Frick and Frack ’til you’re done.”

“No, really,” Dax says. “We can shoot another time.”

“No, no, finish what you’re doing. I’ve got an ‘emergency’ email to respond to real quick, anyway. Carry on. Henn and Hannah should be here soon. Get as much done as you can before they get here.”

Without waiting for Dax’s reply, Reed saunters over to the small refrigerator in the corner, grabs a beer, and then plops down next to me on the couch.

“Hey, Reed,” I say, putting out my hand. “Keane Morgan, Dax’s brother. Also known as ‘Frick.’”

“Yeah, I remember you from our week in paradise. You’re pretty hard to forget.” He chuckles. “
Peen
, right?” He shakes my hand. “Nice hair.”

“Thanks. Good to see you again.”

Reed looks at Zander. “Hey, ‘Frack.’ You were at Josh and Kat’s wedding, too, right?”

Zander nods and puts his hand out. “Zander Shaw.”

“That’s right. Great to see you again, Zander. As I recall, you stole all my money in a poker game the night before the wedding.”

Zander laughs. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Apologies are cheap. I’ll just exact my revenge on you when you least expect it.”

Zander chuckles.

Wow. I’m surprised Reed remembers Zander and me from my sister’s weeklong wedding-shindig in Hawaii last year. Sure, Zander and I partied with the dude plenty of times during that incredible week—my brother-in-law, Josh, rented out an entire swanky resort for all their wedding guests and we partied nonstop like it was 1999—but that was almost a year ago, after all. Plus, Reed was obviously having so much fun partying with his inner circle of best friends, Josh and Henn included, I didn’t expect him to remember anyone else from that week, least of all peons like Zander and me.

“Excuse me for a sec, guys,” Reed says, holding up his phone. “I’ve got to respond to an ‘emergency.’” He rolls his eyes and looks down at his phone.

When Reed begins tapping out an email with obvious annoyance, Zander and I exchange a “wow, this dude’s got so much fucking swagger” look. Even if I’d never heard of Reed Rivers and didn’t know he’s got the hottest indie record label in the world right now (which would mean I’m living under a rock, because the dude’s all over magazines and celebrity websites on the daily), I’d nonetheless be leaning over to Zander to whisper, “Who’s the guy with the big dick?”

Speaking of big dicks, The Talented Mr. Ripley’s feeling mighty lonely. I glance at Maddy longingly across the room. Damn, I wanna fuck that little vixen again. I pull out my phone and tap out a quick text: “I wanna bone the fuck outta u so fucking bad, Maddy Milliken. Do u LIKE making my balls hurt, u evil woman?”

When her phone buzzes with my incoming text, Maddy grabs it from her pocket, looks at it stone-faced, types something in reply without displaying a hint of emotion, and stows her phone in her back pocket again.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I look down.

“Yes,” Maddy’s text says, and nothing more.

Ooph, talk about swagger. Damn. That’s a sexy girl.

“So, hey, Keane,” Reed says, drawing my attention away from my phone. “You still Seattle’s answer to Magic Mike?”

“Yeah,” I say, shocked Reed remembers what I do for a living. “Still livin’ the dream, dolin’ out fantasies to the horny ladies one lap dance at a time.”

Reed chuckles and looks at Zander. “And do you shake your ass for a living, too?” Reed asks politely. “Sorry, I don’t remember what you do.”

“Naw,” Zander says. “I’m a personal trainer. When I shake my ass, I do it behind closed doors for one special lady at a time, no cash exchanged.”

“Nice.” Reed smiles. “You live in L.A.?”

Zander shakes his head. “Seattle, with Keane. We’re actually thinking about moving to L.A., though. Peen’s got some big auditions this week and I can do personal training anywhere.”

Reed looks at me. “Auditions?”

“A bunch of different stuff. We’ll see. It’s all up in the air right now.”

“He’s being modest,” Zander says. “He just got signed to one of the top talent agencies in L.A. Modeling, acting, the whole nine yards. They’re big.”

“Which agency?” Reed asks.

I tell him.

“Oh, a good one. Congrats. The real deal. Keep me posted—” Reed’s phone buzzes and he looks down at it, obviously reading something. “Fuck. I gotta answer this. Excuse me.”

While Reed busies himself on his phone again, I gaze across the room at Maddy. Sexy little thing. Ooph. I tap out another text to her. “Ur ass is sexy in those jeans,” I write. “Can’t stop thinking about how I slapped it last night.”

Maddy pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at it. This time she can’t help but smile at the message before she stows her phone in her pocket, without replying.

Damn, that’s some serious swagger. She didn’t even reply?
Nice
. She’s keeping me guessing. I love it. I type out another text: “After 22 Goats, right after the headliner has started their set, meet me just outside the side exit.”

Maddy glances at her screen again, taps out a reply, and shoves her phone back into her pocket without even a glance in my direction.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text. “YASSSSSSSSSSSSS,” Maddy writes.

“Oh my fucking God,” Reed mumbles, stuffing his phone into his pocket. “This little diva on my roster doesn’t like the bodyguard we hired for her. What a pain in the ass. I guess he wasn’t ‘attractive’ enough for her.” Reed rolls his eyes at us as if to say, “You know how it is,” but, of course, Zander and I don’t know how it is when an artist on our label demands a new bodyguard. Reed’s eyes train on Zander. “Hey, do you happen to have any training whatsoever in any kind of fighting techniques?”

“Um, yeah. Some. I’ve done quite a bit of boxing and kick-boxing over the years.”

“Perfect. You ever thought about being a bodyguard?”

Zander bristles. “Why? Because I’m black and I’ve got muscles?”

“Uh,
yeah
,” Reed says without hesitation, and we all chuckle at his honesty. “You’ve got the perfect look—and that’s more than half the job description for a bodyguard in the music industry. This isn’t the secret service, man—the music biz is all about an artist having a ‘dope entourage.’ We leave the real security to the professionals.”