Yeah, man, you are well and truly fucked.
“And… I… uh… I haven’t had a chance to talk to Tony yet.” Matt could feel his face growing warm at the admission. He’d been meaning to go see him, and he almost went to Rossi’s last night to do just that, but he ended up calling Gina instead.
“What the hell, dude? That’s fucked up.” Kit set his fork down and picked up his beer, taking a healthy swig. “He should hear it from you, and the sooner the better. What if he sees her here with you tonight?”
“I know, man.” His gaze shifted to Sloan, who had taken a seat next to Kit, then back again. “I’m going to, all right?”
“It’s your funeral, my friend,” Sloan quipped, lips curling into a smirk. His shoulder-length, streaked hair was slicked back at his nape—fucker was always changing it. No shirt. Skin oiled. Tight, threadbare jeans torn in all the places guaranteed to make the girls lose their ever-loving minds.
Leaning forward, Kit glanced up at him. “Is she really worth it?”
“C’mon now.” His smirk turning into a grin, Sloan rubbed at the oil on his abs. “You know our boy here better than anyone. Look at him. He’s salivating at the thought of stuffing that dick of his into sweet, young virgin pussy.”
“How about I stuff it down your throat?” His nostrils flaring, Matt bared his teeth.
Kit snorted. “Might shut him up.”
“It’s not like that,” Matt said, softening his voice. Then he straddled a chair across the table from his bandmates. “See, I don’t wanna just fuck her.”
“Wait, you really care for this girl?” Kit asked.
And with a nod, he smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
“Don’t look so butthurt about it.” Observing Kit’s reaction, Sloan chuckled, then he turned his attention back to him and said with a shrug, “I think he might be jealous.”
“Get the fuck outta here, Sloan.”
“Suck my dick.” And with a lift of his chin, he squeezed the denim between his legs. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, baby.”
“What’s CJ doing here?” Maybe he shouldn’t have been, but Matt was surprised to see him waltz in as if he still belonged here. He didn’t. As agreed, they paid him a nice bonus in lieu of renewing his contract.
“One of two things.” Sloan held his beer poised at his lips. “To start some shit or to try and get his job back.”
“Fat chance of that.” With a toss of his mane, Kit sniggered. “He’s got some balls, man.”
“Nah.” Matt picked up his beer and winked. “He lost those a long time ago.”
“Yeah, well, you better hope he’s gone before your girl gets here,” Sloan whispered a warning, pointing his finger at him. “The fucker would love nothing more than to run to Tony.”
“Or sell you out toTMZ,” Kit added.
It wouldn’t be the first time CJ had pulled something like that. He always had a reason—publicity, image, or some such shit. And they let it slide, until Taylor got married, anyway. After that, when they left the label, his intrusive ploys only got worse.
“Hell, he’d do both.” His blue eyes narrowing, Sloan stabbed at a piece of prime rib. “Right after trying to get his stubby little fingers into Gina’s pretty white panties.”
Like no-nuts tried to with Ava? Over my dead fucking body.
“I’ll fucking kill him if he so much as breathes near her.”
“Think he wouldn’t know that?” Sloan steepled his fingers beneath his chin, and tilting his head, he grinned. “Fuck’s sake, Matt, he’d be counting on it.”
Right. CJ would get a story for the media, no matter what. He couldn’t let that happen. Matt would not subject Gina to his bullshit, and needing to know how much time he had left to get him out of here, he sent her a text.
Matt: How much longer until I see your gorgeous face, bunny?
Gina: Lina showed up late, but I’ll be leaving my house in about fifteen minutes.
Matt: Hurry, I need your lips on mine. Be safe on your way over.
