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"Want to show off her talent." Tom laughs. "We're a talented couple."
"Her name—" Miles motions to his hipbone "—is in half the shots. People get it." Miles turns to Pete, the Sinful Serenade bassist. "Did take balls getting Willow that close to his dick."
Pete chuckles. He brushes a long, dark bang from his face and makes eye contact with me. "You did kill it, Ethan. We all owe you one."
"You guys would have done the same." I slide my hand into the back pocket of my jeans.
Tom shakes his head. "Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to play for three hours straight." He looks to Miles. "Would you?"
Miles shakes his head.
Pete too.
"Damn, we're all old and jaded." Tom winks at me. "When I first picked up a pair of sticks, you had to pry me away from my drum kit. And Ethan jumped to fill in for Drew. Fuck, I should bow or some shit."
"You should," Miles says.
Tom does bow.
I laugh. I appreciate the positive feedback, but I don't need another three guys looking at me like I'm their little brother.
"You want to hit the town, Ethan? I know Miles is gonna say some shit about how he has to catch up on his reading. And I know my brother's about to head to his bunk for some way too loud phone sex." Tom sticks his tongue out in disgust.
Pete chuckles. "Don't listen if you don't like it."
"Don't have a fucking choice in the matter. You're loud on purpose," Tom says.
"That's how Jess likes it. Not about to leave her high and dry because you can't bother to buy ear plugs." Pete feigns innocence.
Miles says, "At least he's creative. When you do it—"
"Like you're better." Tom folds his arms, indignant. He looks to me. "What do you say, Ethan? You a boring old man like the three of us or you want to have some fun?"
Miles laughs. He leans against the wall as he turns to me. "Didn't you see the hot redhead who was staring at his ass?"
Tom nods. "I have eyes. And I know Violet. They were unstoppable together. I was sure you were gonna put a ring on that."
"With a girl that fine—you gotta let her know you're committed," Miles says.
"Give him a break. He's just a kid," Tom says.
"How old are you, Ethan?" Miles asks.
"Twenty-four."
"You're only twenty-five." Miles shakes his head at Tom. "You think you're more mature than him 'cause you convinced a nice girl to marry you?"
"Yeah. Means I'm doing something right." Tom looks to me. "You gonna make that happen?"
Last thing I need is more people getting in my business. I shrug with as much nonchalance as I can muster.
"Nobody's buying that," Tom says. "Especially not me. You looked at that girl the way that pervert over there—" Tom nods to his brother, Pete "—looks at a bass guitar."
"Why don't you say he looks at her the way Pete looks at his wife?" Miles asks.
"Because the way he looks at his wife is grosser than the way Ethan looks at Violet. Ethan's not a disgusting pervert like you two," Tom says.
"Sounds like an insult to me. Don't take shit from Sticks," Pete says. "You can be as much of a pervert as you want to be."
