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Long ago, I’d ditched the glowing drink special and switched to beer. I had to hold on to it or else it, too, disappeared into the darkness.
Carrie was friends with the girl that was currently writhing on top of Noah. That was all that I knew about her. The music was too loud to do any talking. People were either dancing, drinking, or groping each other in the dark. I was probably the only one in the entire place not rolling on MDMA. A little molly would probably help me relax, but I didn’t trust the capsule that Noah had pressed into my hand. I had real responsibilities now and even if the drugs were legit, I didn’t want to chance a molly comedown when I was taking care of Kody tomorrow.
Noah was back in L.A. with his band, Burnt Crimson, preparing to record their second album. I’d jumped at the chance to go out with him when he texted. I hadn’t been out in weeks. If I’d known his drummer, Dean Coswell, was coming out, I would have passed. While Noah was generally good-natured and fun to party with, his bandmate was a supreme asshole. Not a grumpy, brooding asshole, but a rude and abrasive prick with a giant ego and loud mouth who would slide a shiv in your side for simply looking at him the wrong way. I’d been around his type long enough in this business; I didn’t need to endure it in my free time.
Apparently, Carrie wasn’t getting enough attention from me because she swiveled on the couch and was now pawing at Dean, even though he was already occupied with another female.
I thought about texting Sid to make sure Kody was okay, but a glance at my phone showed it was after midnight. Sid had texted me hours ago to let me know that Kody had gone to bed with no trouble. He hadn’t stayed overnight with Sid and Kaylie in almost a year, since well before she had the twins.
I knew Sid missed hanging out with him. A pang of guilt stabbed me in the gut. Sid had bonded with Kody when he was an infant — the time I should have been bonding with him. Thank God my best friend was a hell of a lot smarter than me.
Carrie turned back to me, almost jostling my phone out of my hand. She began rubbing up against me and trying to aim her tongue down my throat. I turned my head in time, so instead, she was stabbing at my jaw and neck with wet pokes of her tongue. I had to palm her face with my hand to get her to stop.
Undeterred, her hand slithered down to my crotch while she pressed up against me. I’d seen junkyard dogs who humped with more discrimination. For a brief second, I wondered if I should let her give me a blowjob. I hadn’t had action, outside of my hand, for over a month. Ever since I’d gotten fucking married.
A few weeks ago, I’d gone out with Knox and Ryder. I’d met a gorgeous woman — a fashion model — and after my friends took off, we decided to head back to her place. Sometime during the cab ride, while we were kissing, I realized that I couldn’t do it. I asked the driver to pull over, threw some tip money at him, and then jumped out of the cab, all the while apologizing to the bewildered girl.
Tonight wouldn’t be any better. I’d been determined to have fun and get over my dry spell, but the downside of not being on drugs was to see everything around you with clear eyes. Carrie would hump anything or anyone in sight, and it disgusted me. I didn’t want her to touch me. My hand would be much more appealing.
The random bursts of pulsating strobe lights were maddening. Carrie’s clawing hands were worse. I stood up, leaving her an upended heap on the cushions, needing to get out of there.
I’d go back to Sid and Kaylie’s place; it was only a ten-minute ride away. That way, I could wake up and have breakfast with Kody and visit for a bit with my nephews.
Noah turned his head to the side when I tapped his shoulder. I told him I was taking off. He either didn’t hear me or didn’t care and turned his attention back to the girl on top of him. I texted him the same message on the way out in case he wondered later and then I ordered a cab.
I pushed open the exit door and breathed in the cold night air. Silence buzzed in my ears after leaving behind the loud techno music. I was equally happy to leave behind the frantic strobe lighting, but this area of town was sketchy, so I hoped the cab would show up quickly.
The night had been disappointing. I was beginning to think that something was wrong with me. Had I lost my mojo? No, that wasn’t it. I still attracted beautiful women; I just didn’t want them. The fuck?
Having Kody had slowed down my man-whorish ways a lot, but I’d still always wanted to have sex even if it wasn’t always practical. This new, troubling problem — actively turning down sex with attractive and willing women — all started with that stupid marriage fiasco in Las Vegas. It had been some kind of drunken caper that had gone wrong.
Something about being married, even if it wasn’t real, was blocking me. It wasn’t fair. Lacey was probably out having sex all the time. We’d never promised to be faithful to each other. Except in those vows. Those fucking vows.
Jesus Christ, I’d secretly watched that wedding video more times than I wanted to admit. At first, I needed to see it without Lacey being there, so I could process it all and maybe make sense of what I saw.
Watching it over and over didn’t clear up anything for me. What I saw was troubling. Uncomfortable. I’d always had a little crush on Lacey whether I’d admitted it to myself before. When I met her, she was full of life and loved to party, kind of like the female version of myself. There was no doubt how sexy she was, and then Lacey, Sid, and I had that amazing threesome. My harmless crush was strangled by jealousy when she hooked up with Sidney after that. I began to avoid her. Somehow I knew that she was trouble for me.
And then, Vegas. I’d been too drunk to shield myself. Who knows how or why we ended up married, but I suspected it was probably some joke we concocted while plastered. I watched that video where she told me she loved me and made a comment about making babies. I’d studied my responses and it sure as shit looked like I was really in love with her. It hadn’t been a joke to me and I didn’t know what to do with that.
Now, I was acting like the marriage was real. I couldn’t hook up with anyone; I was keeping my vows. It was ridiculous. I had to end this nonsense. She may have thought it was all fun and games, but this joke of a marriage was affecting my life. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. How could she pull this stunt and just walk away? None of this sat well with me.
My anger was really brewing by the time the cab pulled up to the curb. I hopped in and slammed the door shut. Without thinking twice, I leaned forward and gave the driver Lacey’s address.
I cooled my jets in the lobby of her apartment building while the doorman called Lacey. I hadn’t really thought this through; she was probably still out.
The doorman hung up the phone and then approached me. “If you’ll follow me to the elevator, sir, I’ll key you in.”
He ushered me inside an elevator and before I could ask him any questions, the door slid shut. Great, I didn’t even know her apartment number; I’d have to text her. The elevator started ascending, even though I didn’t see any indication of what floor it’d be stopping on.
I was too busy trying to figure out what I was going to tell Lacey my reason for being there was that I didn’t even notice when the elevator stopped on the 35th floor, the very top floor, until the doors slid open.
She lived in a penthouse. Currently, the lighting was dimmed, but a quick glance around revealed the opulence. The place was open and airy with 12-foot high coffered ceilings and a wall of glass that looked out over downtown. White and modern furniture and tons of fresh flowers brightened the space. I remembered how my polyamorous blind date hated flowers. Clearly, Lacey didn’t share that attribute.
“Where are you coming from?”
I glanced to the left where her voice had sounded from. She was in the kitchen, pulling something out of a large refrigerator.
“I was out with Noah Radner. He’s the guitarist for Burnt Crimson.”
