Page 32 of Not the Punk

“Don’t—” Before he could say anything, Pierce’s guard and Brax tackled him and dragged him off.

Joe was visibly trembling. It had to be Trent. I rushed over and threw my arms around him. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

For a few seconds, it was chaos while everyone tried to figure out what happened, but when things calmed down, it was Pierce who handed him the small bottle of Jack Daniel's. “Here. This’ll help. We’ve got you.” He left me stunned, but I guessed when it came down to it, Pierce didn’t dislike anyone in the band. Maybe he had people issues. What the fuck did I know?

I rubbed Joe’s shoulder and after two swigs from the bottle, he handed the Jack back to Pierce. “Thanks, man.”

He lifted the bottle in salute, then took a swig himself before handing it to Rowan.

Alden came back with Marci a minute or two later. “They arrested him. He won’t be getting out for at least 24-48 hours.”

“Cool.” Joe gave a nod. “Let’s do this show then.”

“Are you sure? You’re really okay?” If he wasn’t, Laz could play for him, and I’d take him back to the hotel. No matter what anyone else had to say about it.

Joe cozied up to me, running a hand over my chest. “Yes, Daddy.” He kissed where his fingers had just been. “You make it all better. I’m good.” I leaned down as he turned his head up. His eyes looked more hazel, with a touch of green, under these lights. He was so beautiful, vulnerable, and he’d called me Daddy in front of everyone. I pressed my lips to his and took his warm kiss.

Chapter fifteen

Joe Gets A Break

San Jose to LA

Trent was in jail, and it looked like he’d be there for a while, and we had a nice break. We took a short flight to LA and headed first to Don’s place, which was closer to the airport. We dropped off his crew, then Colten and I went to his place.

He lived in a second-floor apartment in a quadplex in Glendale. “Not terribly far from the station and way more affordable.” I nodded as he unlocked the door and let me in. “It’s honestly not much.” He wasn’t wrong about that. No character and the kitchen was barely big enough for a stove, fridge, sink, and a few cabinets. It did have a peninsula that gave him a place to sit and eat, which was a good thing since there wasn’t a place for a dining room. I watched his big Viking-like body move through the small space, barely believing he actually lived here. But it was clean and serviceable.

“It’s fine.”

“Your place is much nicer.”

Like I cared about things like that. “It’s bigger, sure. But it’s not in California, so it’s probably still cheaper. You can’t really compare. This is your place, so I like it here.” My gaze darted around, taking everything in.

“Are you nervous about being here, rocker-boy?”

I smiled at the nickname, kind of loving it a lot. “I’m not. Just hungry.”

“I don’t have much. I didn’t go shopping before I left. Figured I’d be gone a while and didn’t want anything to go bad.”

“Let’s see.” We looked through his cabinet where he kept food—too small to be any kind of pantry—and his fridge.

Then he opened the freezer and pulled out a loaf of bread. “Once this thaws, we can have sandwiches or something.”

“Let’s save that for breakfast and order out.”

He pulled open a drawer and grabbed takeout menus, handing me half of them. Being with him felt comfortable and relaxed. Sitting at the bar flipping through restaurant possibilities felt good. I didn’t mind that it was a mundane task, since it was so domestic and homey. I certainly liked it more than I should have. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “This is cool, right?”

“Yes, but what part? The hand holding or finding food?”

“Ha! Both. But I meant being here together.”

He turned me to face him and gently kissed my lips. “It is.”

“Is this what it’s going to be like? For us in a relationship?”

“Maybe. We can make it what we want.”