No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (10 page)

I’m still not going in the damn water.

Sheri and I spread out a huge blanket over the small stretch of sand, and Phil dropped a stack of enormous towels and blankets. Then, he headed back to X’s Jeep for the cooler we had packed with water and beer and some watermelon.

“I’m going to grab your pills, okay, Jace?” Sheri said. “I put them in the glove box.” She followed Phil.

“Yeah. It’s startin’ to hurt again,” he called to her retreating figure.

That left me all alone with Jason Jones, the golden god guitarist.

“How are you holding up?” I copped a squat next to him.

“It’s getting there.” He flashed his mostly white even teeth. The two that had been knocked out had taken on a bluish tint, which actually didn’t look too bad.

“I, uh…I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about how I acted last Sunday. I know I apologized. Don’t remember too much of it, if I’m honest. But while I’m not drugged up, I wanted to let you know that I really am sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I told him.

“It really wasn’t you I was tryin’ to hurt. It was him,” he stated quietly.

“I figured as much.”

“I was just so pissed at him, at the whole situation. I thought you were comin’ in, and…I was afraid for the band. I was furious to think that he’d put you first. So, I went after what would hurt him the most.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“Really? ’Cause I sure as hell don’t. I love him like a brother. That was a pretty shitty thing to do to a brother,” he said.

“You had your reasons, and I get them. I really do,” I said. “I promise you, he’ll never have to choose between me and NOLA’s Junk. I’d be as devastated as you if the band broke up.”

“I know. I realize that now.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“And thank you for Sheri,” he said softly. “I don’t know how you did it, but she…she’s now the girl I always knew was in there, you know? And what she went through—” His throat worked hard as he tried to collect himself. “She needs friends like you and Alys and Lili. I don’t think she’s really ever had that. I’m just so grateful to you for helpin’ her open up. It fuckin’ pisses me off that she never told me herself, but I guess I can see why she wouldn’t have.”

“She loves you, Jason. Absolutely adores you. I think she just didn’t want to believe she could have anything real with you because she was waiting for something better to come and steal your heart.”

“She already did that.”

I reached out and squeezed his hand. “Just keep letting her know that.”

Looking at me, he smiled. “I will. Now, take your hand back before Phil sees and breaks my face again.”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing.

A few minutes later, Phil dumped the cooler on the ground behind me and pulled out a couple of bottles of water. He tossed one in Jason’s lap—I thought he was aiming for the man’s nuts—before parking his perfect ass on top of the closed lid.

Sheri rattled a prescription bottle at Jason. Then, she twisted open the cap and jiggled out a Vicodin. “Just one, okay? I don’t want you to be too fucked up and go in the water. You can have another one on the ride home or something.”

“Okay, baby.” He popped it into his mouth and chugged some water with it.

“And no beer,” she sternly told him.

“Damn it,” he grumped.

Phil and I cracked up.

“What?” demanded Sheri. “Once the Vicodin hits him, he’ll be gator bait. No need to make it easier for them.”

“I would think you guys’ drug tolerance would by sky-high by now,” I said.

“I think it depends on the drug in question,” drawled Phil. “Jason once got wasted off a bottle of Jack before a show. We were so fuckin’ pissed at him, thought his roadie would have to step in or we’d have to cancel. But then, he snorted half a gram of coke, got on stage, and never missed a beat.”

Jason laughed and whistled. “Yeah, don’t think I’ll be snortin’ much of anythin’ anymore. I don’t even remember why I felt the need to drink a whole bottle.”

I noticed Sheri blushing, and I had the feeling she hoped Jason never remembered.

“Well then, it did its job,” joked Phil.

“I guess. But Flipper, man, that cat likes to take a hit of acid five minutes before a set. Says there’s nothin’ better than trippin’ balls behind his kit. He’s one of those people who never hallucinates or anythin’. Acid is just
fun
to him.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is for me. I’ve never hallucinated on acid or mushrooms. I prefer mushrooms though. It’s like having a laughfest for six hours, and then I can go to sleep. Acid just keeps me up too much.”

Sheri and Jason looked at me in surprise.

“What?”

“You do acid and ’shrooms?” asked Jason.

“I used to. I spent a lot of my adolescence tripping the time away. Alys and Lili, too.”

“Really?” asked Sheri.

“Uh, yeah. Why does that shock you?”

“Well…you’re a
doctor
,” stated Jason.

That made me laugh. “Yeah, I grew up on a hippie compound. My parents were well into psychedelics.”

Phil busted out laughing at the incredulous looks on Sheri’s and Jason’s faces.

“What about other shit?” Jason asked. “Coke and heroin—”

I shook my head. “No way. I have my limits, and the hard shit never appealed to me. Far too synthetic and cut with god knows what else.” I looked over my shoulder at Phil. “What about you?”

“Yeah, it kind of comes with the territory,” he replied with a self-deprecating smile.

“Needles?”

“A couple of times. But they were always clean. I took them out from the sterile packin’ myself. I’m just not that into that kind of shit. Tried it. Yeah, it was a hell of a rush but not anythin’ I’d chase.” He looked me dead in the eyes, his gaze scorching. “I had better things to live for.”

“Phil likes to be in control and prefers to be sober on stage,” chimed Sheri. “The rush of being on stage is the best high for him. He doesn’t even really drink. Just a beer or two here and there. I’ve only ever seen him
really
drunk a handful of times.”

“Yeah, well, the amount of alcohol he has to consume to even get there is ridiculous.” Jason laughed and whistled. “Shit, I wish this fuckin’ noise would stop.”

“What about X?” I asked.

“Whiskey and weed,” replied Phil. “But I think that’s what we’re all partial to. Nothin’ other than that. We tried some shit out when we were younger, but we’re in this for the music, not the lifestyle.”

“Always the music, man,” agreed Jason, bobbing his head. “When it becomes about anythin’ else, then that’s when it’s time to hang it up. You can’t make the best music if your head’s stuck in a drug fog. You write like shit, you play like shit, and it just ain’t worth it.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” I said. “I do therapeutic work with addicts in rehab. The shit those people go through…I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“No worries on that front,” said Phil, dropping a kiss on my head. “I’m ready for the water,” he announced, pulling off his plain gray T-shirt.

He looked fucking adorable in a pair of brown-and-gray Hawaiian floral print swim trunks. I had been taken aback when I first saw him in them. I honestly hadn’t thought he owned anything to actually swim in.

“Hell yeah.” Jason got to his feet and took off his shirt, too.

“I just want to lay out,” I told Phil.

“Me, too,” piped Sheri, removing her tank top and cutoff jean shorts, which were surprisingly not micro.

Eyeballing her from behind my Jackie O’s, I found myself completely jealous of her huge tits and tiny waist. I almost wanted to keep my tank top and Phil’s shorts on just so Phil couldn’t see how seriously lacking I was in the mammary department in comparison. No shit, Sheri would be a perfect candidate for a Victoria’s Secret model.

“What? Am I supposed to make out with Jason in the water?” Phil glared at me, all grumpy-looking.

“I wouldn’t suggest it. His face might cave in,” I retorted.

Finding my balls, I removed my tank top and shorts and dropped them in a pile to use as a pillow. When I looked up, Phil, Jason, and Sheri were staring at me. Jason’s jaw went slack.

“
Baby Girl
!” hissed Phil, his eyes bugging.

“What?”

“Holy shit, girl. You are
fine
!” crowed Jason.

Phil whacked him on the chest with the back of his hand. “You fuckin’ shut it, or I’ll punch you in the
back
of the head and knock your fuckin’ eyes out!” He had a bit of the cray-cray eyes going on himself.

I was wearing a Brazilian-style bikini, which was flattering on both women with large tits and the less fortunate, like myself. What was hilarious was that it matched Phil’s bathing suit perfectly—dark brown trimmed with gray cording.

“I think she looks lovely,” said Sheri.

“Oh, I got this at the surf shop on—”

“Put your shirt back on!” demanded Phil hotly.

“I will not!” I spit back.

Fuck that! I just found the balls to sit next to Sheri in a bathing suit! He can suck it!

Jason snorted and whistled. “He doesn’t want anyone to fuckin’ know how hot his wom—”

Phil shoved Jason and pointed at him. “Last fuckin’ warnin’, douche—”

“Phil! Knock it off!” I snapped, sitting my ass down. “You don’t see me going apeshit every time a woman goes cross-legged ’cause you smiled at her.”

I got his angry face for that, which made my crotch tingle pleasantly.

“I’m only lookin’, man—and in front of
my
girl, too! So fuckin’ chill. Even Sheri thinks she’s gorgeous. Right, baby?”

“Definitely. I don’t mind him looking, Phil. Neither should you. If anything, you should be shouting from the treetops that you’re tapping that fine ass.”

Phil glared at us before turning and stomping his giant self into the water. The three of us shared a good chortle for a few minutes. Jason very,
very
softly brushed his mouth over Sheri’s and then followed his front man into the swimming hole.

“I hope Phil doesn’t drown him.” Sheri sighed happily.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. He had to know I was wearing a damn bathing suit.”

“He was probably hoping you’d wear a one-piece.”

“He’s been around a lot more women wearing a hell of a lot less!”

“But you’re
his
woman, Kenna. And, no lie, you have the body of a goddess.”

For some reason, that made me laugh.

“Seriously,” she stated, smiling. “He’s just not ready to share. He might never be, not with you. To him, you
are
a goddess, his muse. And he’s jealous of anyone who can see you the same way.”

“Ridiculous.”

“But true.”

Taking off my Jackie O’s, I lay back to soak up the warmth and sunshine.
Sheri and I should spend more time together like this, just the two of us
, I thought. Seized by sisterly inspiration, I asked, “Would you like to come have lunch with me tomorrow? I have an hour break at one o’clock.”

“I’d love to,” she replied.

“Good. It’s a date then.”

In comfortable silence, we chilled out for about half an hour, listening to Phil and Jason laugh and crack on each other.

She sighed. “I think I’m going to head in. I want to make sure Jace is okay.”

“Yep.”

A few minutes later, my sun got blotted out by a looming shadow dripping water on me.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, Baby Girl.”

“Oh, good.”

He laughed. “Who the hell else would it be?” He plopped down beside me. “Baby Girl?”

“Yeah, Phil.”

“You’re too fuckin’ hot. It should be illegal to be as hot as you are.”

Cracking up, I said, “
Really?
I’ve already slept with you, you know. You don’t have to work the cheesy pickup lines with me.”

“I acted like an ass.”

“Yeah, you did.” I grinned.

“Sheri’s right. I am proud to be the one tappin’ your ass. I just didn’t like it when Jason looked at you like he’d like to tap it, too.”

“He doesn’t want to tap my ass, Phil. He wants to tap Sheri’s.”

“Of course he wants to tap your ass,” Phil huffed. “He wouldn’t find it a chore.”

“Whatever. I can’t help the way I look, and it’s not like my looks really matter.”

“No, but it makes fuckin’ you a right joy,” he retorted.

“Oh, ha-ha.” I cracked open one eye and looked at him.

He was staring at me with a smoldering gaze.

Reaching out, he stroked his knuckles along my cheek. “I love
you
. Your looks are just a damn fine perk.”

“So, you’re telling me, if you’d come home to find out I was a three-hundred-pound trucker instead of a yoga-obsessed doctor, you’d still be madly in love with me?”

“Yes. I might not fuck you as often, but I’d still be in love with you.”

I snorted. “I bet.”

Scooting closer, he pulled me so that I was lying on my side, facing him. “I would. Whatever it is that’s in you, it calls out to whatever it is that’s in me. It’s way more than physical, you know that.”

“I do,” I assured him. “But I have to tell you, your outside packaging drives my insides wild.”

“Mmhmm…I can say the same about you.” He skimmed his warm palm down my side, his fingers trailing and spiraling over my belly. “Although, I’m glad you’re not a three-hundred-pound trucker. The guys would lose it, especially since I work out only to keep
you
well satisfied. I’m kinda hopin’ you’ll just let yourself go, so I can stop this shit and get fat.”

“Hmm…maybe I will. I could drive the tour bus—”

He started cracking up. “
Awesome.
I can just see it. My fat woman drivin’ our asses all over, feedin’ us fast food and stuff that ain’t organic. Yeah, this might just work.”

I started to lose it.

“I could sleep on you ’cause you’d be all squishy and soft. Sheri would go missin’, and we’d find her skinny ass two weeks later, all warm and snuggled in your ass crack ’cause you sat on her one mornin’ while snackin’ on some doughnuts.”

I lost it completely. I was laughing so hard that tears were escaping and breathing was not possible. My wheezing and snorting had him cracking up until we were both laughing like loons. When we simmered down, he wiped a happy tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.