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I fight a grimace. "Can't argue with Vi's logic."
"This is a failure of democracy." Kit shakes his head, but he accepts defeat.
Joel claps his hands together. His eyes light up as he pores over possibilities. "Okay, I've got one. Never have I ever received or performed oral sex in a recording studio."
Violet turns red, bright red. "Oh God. I thought the room was soundproof."
"The mic was still on," Kit says.
"They don't make rooms that soundproof." Joel laughs.
She hides behind her hands for a minute, then she looks to me. "Well, I believe I was receiving and you were performing. So you better lose a finger, Ethan." She's still blushing and nervous, but she's smiling too.
It takes a lot of self-control to keep from getting lost in the memory of Violet coming on my face. It was my first time in a real studio, a nice one, and I wanted to celebrate. She was wearing this short black skirt and those same knee-high boots. Fuck, those long legs of hers-
Violet's fingers brush my knee. She looks up at me with an I've got you smile. "Hmm. Never have I ever… had an orgasm in a dressing room."
I drop another finger.
I take back anything bad I ever said about Joel.
That man is a genius.
With me and Violet aiming at each other, Joel is the last man standing. Back in high school, back when I a too-skinny kid overshadowed by my cool older brother, I was always the last man standing. Of course, back then, being the last man standing meant you were a loser with your v-card intact.
Joel's proud of his victory. Or maybe he's mystified as to how he, the sluttiest of the four of us, won.
I'm mystified too.
We're well past night and into early morning. But I can't sleep. Not with Violet this close. Not with that smile on her soft red lips.
I put on The Fly, the original, grab two pairs of headphones—the TV has Bluetooth sound—and offer one to Violet.
She looks at the screen with recognition. "Is this the one where Jeff Goldblum gets naked or the other one?" Her eyes light up.
"Itching to see a naked guy with dark, wavy hair?" I cock a brow.
She blushes. "Yeah, you think Kit will strip for me?"
"No."
"Me either." She takes the headphones and takes a seat on the couch. "It's the other one, isn't it?"
"This is the original."
"Being first doesn't make it the best." Her eyes find mine. "Sometimes it's good to redo things. You can make them better. Fix the mistakes."
"Yeah?"
She nods. Her lips press together. Her eyes go back to the screen. "Sometimes, when I'm having trouble with a problem, I scrap what I'm doing. And I start over. Sometimes, I'm going at it all wrong and I need a break before I can figure out how I want to approach it again."
"I'm the same with songs."
"I remember."
I sit next to her. Close enough our knees are touching. "How about we watch the remake after this?"
She looks around for a clock. When she finds none, she looks out the windows, at the blue sky of dawn. "I don't think I'm going to make it through this one." Her eyes find mine. "How about tomorrow?"
