Page 126 of The Comedown

Smoke slips out between my lips, curling slowly in front of my heavy-lidded eyes, up toward the bus’s ceiling.

“How much longer ’til we’re there?” I ask Slade, and he shakes his head, his gelled hair not moving a centimeter.

“Are you really planning to record today?”

“I’m scheduled to,” I say through the harsh smoke flowing from my mouth. Smoke doesn’t affect my voice like it does Collette’s. She’s got a sensitive voice box or something. Doesn’t stop me from making her scream my name every chance I get though. I’m practically her new vocal coach with all the exercises I’ve been putting her singing pipes through lately.

What the fuck am I doing here again? I should’ve hired a car service. Then I’d already be working on a new track, not dealing with—

“You’re gonna want to cancel.” Slade motions behind me, and when I turn to look over my shoulder, I have to do a double take at the two identical raven-haired beauties in string bikinis coming out of the back bedroom. “My birthday presents to you will be a lot more fun.”

Presents, huh?

I give the…twins?…a more thorough once-over, and all I can think is, how long have they been back there? That’s it. Nothing sexual registers whatso-fucking-ever, and I drop my eyes to glare at my cock hidden somewhere deep inside my jeans, not reacting in any way.

Really? Not a fucking eager jump to attention? A goddamn jolt? Nothing?

The fuck? Is he broken?

I eye the shirt stretched across the table again.

Nah. I may be broken but my cock sure the fuck isn’t. His tastes, and mine, have changed, that’s all. I require something different now.

“How much longer?” I repeat.

“Who cares?”

Slade beckons the girls forward, and they approach me with matching come fuck me smiles, and…yup, they’re twins.

God.

Damn.

Twins.

Real identical fucking twins offering themselves up to me on a tarnished platter, and still, my cock’s nowhere to be found. Just hiding out like a convict on the lam.

“I care,” I grit, trying to avoid eye contact with the twins, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. Not caring was one of my finest assets, but things have changed. I’ve changed.

I’m trying to fucking change.

“You won’t soon. Drink up, birthday boy,” Slade murmurs, gripping my shoulder while nudging the tequila in my hold.

He’s serving me up everything I go for normally. I should be lapping it up. I would’ve been…before. Before I got a taste for her—who my cock’s loyalty now lies with. That fucker isn’t mine anymore. Just like the rest of me, he belongs to Collette, too.

Flesh and bone, mind and soul, I’ve been motherfucking claimed.

Now I just need to claim her back.

“Ayo, Axel?” I call out toward the front of the bus where I last saw my drummer.

His head pops up from one of the couches, saying, “Yeah?”

“Slade’s got some friends he wants to introduce you to.”

Axel visibly blanches, shaking his head as he settles further down into the couch. His phone’s screen has his face lit up, and even from here I can see his disapproval. He’s changed, too. Ever since New Orleans, he hasn’t been going as hard either, in anything, especially females. I don’t know for sure, but I’m thinking it might have to do with Irelynn. Dude’s crushin’. Bad. I’ve even been letting him come over to Collette’s bus, too.

Slade squeezes my shoulder a little too hard to ignore, so I shake him off me, watching his smile flicker as he jabs, “What’s the matter, boss man? Can’t handle two girls alone anymore? Gotta bring in Ax as reinforcement?”