“She’s not moving in, but she’s convenient pussy,” I explain. “She doesn’t mind us sharing her, and she’s not looking for anything but sex.”
“If you truly believe that, you’re an idiot. That slut has gold digger written all over her.”
“Hey now. You were the one who gave me a big fucking lecture about not referring to women who sleep around as sluts.”
“That’s different.” She empties the box and begins flattening it. “I was talking about equality. Girls like Aoife have an agenda. They use sex for manipulation and self-gain. Those girls are sluts in my opinion. Girls who have regular consensual sex, with one or more guys, for pleasure’s sake, are not sluts. They’re embracing their sexuality and exploring it in a safe way with no ill intent. They’re no different to you or Jamie or Conor.” Her face pales. “Or Ro, I guess. Ugh.” She rubs at her chest. “I still can’t believe our little brother is having sex. I used to watch him getting his nappy changed and feed him his bottles. It feels so wrong.”
A chuckle rumbles from my chest. “If it’s any consolation, the groupie scene is not really his scene.” I’ve never had a girlfriend, but my little brother has been in regular relationships since he was fourteen. He’s a right little Casanova. He’s had a few one-night stands too, but I’m not telling Ash he’s reaping the benefits of being in the band. She’s already traumatized enough.
“Fact. He’s a total charmer, and the girls only love him for it.” She folds her arms and leans back against the fridge. “Keep Aoifeaway from him, Dil. I don’t trust her, and Ronan is still only seventeen.”
He’s almost eighteen and way more mature than I was at that age, but I know Ash’s concern comes from a good place. “I don’t think he’s interested anyway, but I’ll make sure she stays away from him.”
“Happy birthday, birthday boy!” My bed bounces as Ash jumps on it waking me from a deep sleep.
I don’t know what time it is, but I bet it’s way too early. It was after five before I crashed, and I had plans to sleep most of the day away. “Go away.” I pull the covers over my head, but my sister is not to be deterred.
She yanks the covers back down. “No. We’re going out to celebrate your birthday whether you like it or not.”
“Hard pass.” I scrub at my eyes and turn flat on my back. “You know I don’t give a crap about my birthday, and it’s not like this is a special one.”
“You’re twenty, Dil. You’re no longer a teenager. That makes it special. Besides, you wouldn’t let me do anything last year, so you owe me.”
“It’s my birthday, but somehow, I owe you? Fuck my life.” I scrub my hands down my face.
“Open your present.” She places a gift-wrapped parcel on my chest.
“Ash. I said no presents.” I know she doesn’t have much spare cash, and I’m not lying when I say I don’t want to acknowledge my birthday. It’s not anything to celebrate. All it does is make me think of that self-serving, smug prick of a twin. He’s Hollywood’s current golden boy, and I can’t open upthe internet, turn on the TV, or walk past a newsstand without seeing his annoying face.
Simon still texts me threats, but they are less frequent. His precious son is a big star now, and his rejected one hasn’t outed the secret, so he’s probably not too concerned anymore. Which is just the way I want it to be. Lull him into a false sense of security, and when he least expects it, I’ll drop the bomb and ruin them both. I still haven’t worked out the how, but they say patience is rewarded, so I’ll bide my time.
“It’s your birthday, Dil. Everyone deserves presents on their birthday.” I don’t tell her the threesome I had with two busty redheads last night is all the present I need because I can imagine how that news would go down.
Ash is proper into Toxic Gods again, and she comes to all our shows, which means she has a front row seat to Groupieville and Depravity Land. To say she’s unhappy is an understatement. She’s been nagging me to find a girl outside the scene to settle down with, but it’ll never happen. I’m happy with the way things are and see no reason to change it.
Sitting up against the headboard, I tear the paper open, grinning as I examine the small bag of branded guitar picks. “These are cool.” I tip the custom picks into my hand and examine them in more detail. They’re red and black, and the skull design has a serpent crawling through the eyes and the words TOXIC GODS scrawled over the emblem. “Thanks, sis. I love the design.”
“It’s still not right, but I saw a shop on Etsy that did custom picks, and I couldn’t resist ordering you some.” She pulls her legs up onto the bed. “I got more picks for the others. I knew the assholes would only steal yours if I didn’t.”
“That was thoughtful. They’ll love them.”
“I still think you should’ve changed your name. You guys are really fucking good, and I have a real good feeling about the band.”
She’s starting to sound like Ro, and I wonder if he’s asked her to put some pressure on me. He’s so hyper and already planning world domination. I’d be happy if we could produce our own albums and sell them within Ireland and maybe play gigs up and down the country. We’d make a comfortable living, and it’s achievable with a little effort. “I don’t think Toxic Gods does you justice,” she adds.
“You sound like a nagging wife,” I joke as I slip my finger under the sealing on the envelope which was the other item in the gift. “And our fans love the name.” I eyeball her. “It’s staying.”
Ash watches me remove the item from the envelope with barely contained excitement. “No way, Ash.” My eyes are out on stalks as I look at the Longitude ticket. It’s a massive event staged every summer in Marley Park, featuring a ton of bands and some big names. “This is too much. How’d you even afford it?”
“You know I worked a few extra shifts over Christmas and New Year’s, so I had extra money.”
“You should be keeping that for yourself.” I lean in and hug her. “Thanks, Ash.”
“Ugh. Get off.” She pushes me away. “You smell like beer, tacky perfume, and regret.”
I chuckle as I set my gifts on the bedside locker. “Trust me, I have no regrets.” I flash her a wide-lipped grin. “Tania and Rosanna were the perfect way to say goodbye to my teens.”
“Gross. It’s like you’re incapable of sleeping with just one woman.”
