Page 61 of Lick
“You left LA?”
“LA was not so great. What with the groupies and lawyers and business managers and everything, it was pretty shitty.”
“Details, babe. Gimme.”
I drew my knees up to my chest and fidgeted with the seam of my jeans, feeling conflicted. Discussing our personal details behind David’s back didn’t sit well with me. Not even with Lauren. Things had changed. Most noticeably, our marriage had changed. But there were still some things I could share. “The people there were like something from another planet. I did not fit in. Though you would have liked seeing the parties they threw. All the glamorous people packed into this mansion. It was impressive.”
“You’re making me insanely jealous. Who was there?”
I gave her a couple of names as she oohed and aahed.
“But I don’t miss LA. Things are so good now, out here, Lauren. We’ve put the annulment on hold. We’re going to see how things go.”
“That’s so romantic. Tell me you’ve jumped that fine-looking man’s bones, please. Don’t make me cry.”
“Lauren.” I sighed.
“Yes or no?”
I hesitated, and she got screamy at me, rather predictably. “YES OR NO?”
“Yes. All right? Yes.”
This time, her shriek definitely did my eardrums permanent damage. All I could hear was ringing. When it ended, someone was mumbling in the background. Someone male.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“No one. Just a friend.”
“A friend-friend or a friend?”
“Just a friend. Hang on, changing rooms. And we were talking about you, partner of David Ferris, world-famous lead guitarist for Stage Dive.”
“A friend that I know?” I asked, curiosity now fully aroused.
“You are aware of the picture of your ass making the rounds, aren’t you?”
Cue the squirming. “Uh, yeah. I am.”
“Bummer. Haha! But seriously, you look good. Mine wouldn’t have looked half as nice. Bet you’re glad you walked to campus last semester instead of driving all the time like lazy ol’ me. That sure was some night you had in Vegas, missy.”
“Let’s talk about your friend instead of my butt. Or Vegas.”
“Or we could talk about your sex life. Because we’ve been talking about mine for a couple of years now, but we haven’t much been able to talk about yours, girlfriend,” she said in a glee-filled singsong voice.
“Evvie! Want a soda?” Mal shouted as he sailed past on his way to the kitchen, having emerged from below.
“Yes, please.”
“Who is that?” asked Lauren.
“The drummer. They’re doing some work in the studio downstairs.”
Lauren gasped. “The whole band is there?”
“No, just Mal and another friend of David’s.”
“Malcolm is there? He’s really hot, but a total man slut,” she supplied helpfully. “You should see the number of women he gets photographed with.”
