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“Why wasn’t I invited?!” Riley roared.

“It’s about Joshua Tree.”

“Oh, FUCK THAT.”

“I’m trying to get Kaitlyn to come along and join in,” Killian explained.

Riley about busted a gut laughing. “Yeah, right!”

I drew myself up in indignation. “What does that mean?”

“It means you got a stick so far up your ass, you’re not gettin’ any mushrooms down there with it,” Riley snorted as she walked off.

“I do not,” I said in a petulant little voice that nobody else heard. Then I called after her, “That doesn’t even make sense!”

Now I kind of wanted to do shrooms, just to show Riley up.

Kind of.

Sort of.

Maybe.

“You can come if you like,” Killian called out to the drummer.

“Are there gonna be hot naked chicks?” Riley shouted over her shoulder.

Killian paused to consider.

“…most probably not, no.”

“Then fuck off!” Riley yelled as she walked into the crowd.

“Alright, that’s one off the list,” Killian said.

“You didn’t seriously expect her to say ‘yes,’ did you?” Ryan asked. “You ask her every year, and she never says yes.”

“I ask you every year.”

“Yeah, and I never say ‘yes’ either.”

Killian shrugged. “I try to be polite.”

I looked at Ryan in alarm. How bad did something have to be for Riley to refuse to do it? “Why doesn’t she ever say ‘yes’?”

“Riley’s drug of choice is booze,” Ryan explained. “She’s not interested in anything else.”

“Except pussy!” Riley shouted, popping back into the conversation just long enough to scare the shit out of me, laugh maniacally, and disappear again.

“Except that,” Ryan conceded.

Killian turned back to me. “You’ll come along, right, luv? Pleeeeaaaase?”

“I… I don’t know, Killian,” I said, when what I really meant was closer to Riley’s FUCK NO.

“But if you don’t do it, then Derek won’t do it… and if Derek won’t do it, he won’t even come… and then I’ll be all alone, and it’s no fun all alone,” he whined.

“Miles is going to let you do this?” I asked, shocked.

“It’s in the unofficial contract,” Killian said as he puffed on his joint.

I looked at Derek in bewilderment.

He shrugged. “That’s Killian’s term for stuff Miles can’t say shit about. One is trying to stop Killian from smoking weed – ”

“Forbidden to even mention it,” Killian said seriously.

“ – and the other is Joshua Tree.”

“You actually scheduled your concerts so he could do this?!”

Derek and Ryan both nodded in resignation.

“Please, Kaitlyn,” Killian said, putting his free hand – the one not fingering chords on the guitar – on my arm. “It’ll be grand. It’ll be like… Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas.”

He paused upon seeing my alarmed expression.

“Except in Joshua Tree,” he added hastily. “And no fear, no loathing. Just… love. And enlightenment.”

“And a shitload of shrooms,” Derek chimed in.

I remembered Hunter S. Thompson coming up in Derek’s and my first conversation, back in my dorm room in Athens four years ago. I remembered Derek talking about him being a great journalist for the ‘greatest music criticism magazine in the world.’

Which I now represented, too.

I didn’t know if I should take that for a sign or not.

And then something happened that made me have to take it for a sign.

“I’ll give you a proper interview,” Killian pleaded. “With long, expansive answers. Details galore.”

Oh God.

I just knew I was going to regret this.

“…okay?...” I said nervously.

“Yes!” he crowed, and wheeled around and did a victorious windmill swipe at his guitar, just like Pete Townsend in The Who.

“Oh God,” Ryan said, and put his head in one hand.

I looked at Derek fearfully. “Be honest: is this a really, really bad idea?”

He grinned. “It’ll be memorable, I can guarantee you that. But it’s your call.”

I chewed on my lower lip, then closed my eyes. “Okay.”

“Then I’m going, too,” Ryan announced. He didn’t sound happy about it.

Derek did a double-take. “What? Really?”

Ryan sighed, rolled his eyes, and nodded.

“YES!” Killian howled, doing two Pete Townsend windmill swipes at his guitar.

Other than when he was up on stage and totally in the moment, it was a hundred times more emotion than I’d seen him display over the last three days, combined.

“Why?” I asked Ryan.

“Yeah, why?” Derek asked, sounding just a tiny bit suspicious.

“You think I’m going to let Kaitlyn go wandering out there in the desert with you two while you’re high on shrooms?” Ryan said disapprovingly.

“Trippin’ our balls off!” Killian said happily, and continued doing his Pete Townsend imitation.

Ryan glanced at Killian, then turned back to Derek. “Yeah. Think again.”

“So you’re going to do shrooms with us?”

“HELL no. Somebody has to babysit you people.”

“…babysit?” I whimpered.

“What’d she say?!” Riley shouted across the room.

“She said yes!” Killian called out happily as he kept windmilling away at his guitar.

Riley cackled. “Your funeral, Blondie!”

Now I was considering changing my mind.

“You should stay here instead and fuck me!” Riley hooted.

Okay, that decided it.

I was absolutely, positively going to the desert and doing shrooms.

58

When Derek and I got back to the room, I was freaking out over what I had agreed to do.

“I don’t know if I should,” I fretted.

Derek stepped up behind me and wrapped me in his arms. “It’ll be fine.”

“But it’s illegal.”

“So is speeding. You ever speed?”

“No! Wait – are you talking about the drug, or…?”

He laughed and kissed my neck. “I’m talking about doing 70 in a 55 mile per hour zone, dummy.”

That irked me a little. I don’t like being called a dummy.

But I did feel a little stupid.

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, then. You were doing something illegal.”

“They only fine you for that, they don’t throw you in jail!”

He kissed his way up my neck and nibbled my ear. “You worry way too much, do you know that?”

In spite of my nervousness over the Joshua Tree situation, my body responded the way Derek knew it would.

Unnnhhhh.

I melted a little in his arms as he continued to kiss my neck… but then the merry-go-round of thoughts started spinning again.

“I need to be able to do my job.”

“You will. That’s why you’re going.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“We won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I break the law all the time, and I haven’t been caught yet.”

“Yeah, you probably go 140 in a 55 mile per hour zone.”

“That sounds like fun – but no, I’ve never done that.”

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“Kaitlyn?”

“What.”

“You talk too much,” he whispered, and switched to nibbling on my other ear.

Unnnnhhhhhh.

“I… I…” I murmured, my eyes closed.

“You just need to relax,” he whispered into my ear.

“Relax…?”

He guided me over to the bed and made me lie down. Then he took off my heels, hiked up my skirt, and hooked my panties in his fingers.

A wild romp wasn’t really what I had in mind right now.

“Derek – ”

“Shhhh,” he whispered. He pulled off my panties and tossed them on the floor. “Relax.”

I readied myself, trying to quiet the voices in my mind. Despite being stressed out, I was looking forward to seeing him strip down, watching his body in the dim light –

But he didn’t do that.

He sank down on the bed between my legs and softly pushed them apart.

“What are you doing?” I asked, though it was pretty damn obvious what he was doing.

“Shhhh… relax,” he said, and then he started kissing me.

First it was my stomach… then the inside of my right thigh, then the left… his lips brushing over my skin… tickling me…

All the while, my mind was churning.

What if I get caught?

What will Rolling Stone say?

What will my parents say?

What if I go to jail?

But the thoughts became much, much slower… and much harder to formulate… the more he kissed.

What if… something… goes wrong?

What if… Miles… gets… mad… at…

Unnnnhhhhh…

“…Derek…”

“…relax…” he whispered back, right before he began to kiss my pussy.

And I’m not speaking metaphorically. Little kisses, his lips on mine, softly, sweetly. Then he would brush his lips over my skin, and I could feel myself getting wetter, my wetness on his lips as he kept kissing me, him using my own juices to slide over me, to make my skin pull slightly against his mouth with the barest amount of slippery friction.

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