Page 111 of Dirty Like Seth
In the morning, Flynn drove Elle and I to Left Coast Studios, where she’d booked time for us. It was one of Vancouver’s most well-known recording studios, but I’d never beeninside.
The engineer who greeted us, Elle told me, was an old friend of Dirty’s. His name was Cody, kind of a big, beefy teddy bear of a guy, and surprisingly young. He welcomed me in, showing usaround.
The space was huge, even larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, and state-of-the-art. Pictures of dozens of famous musicians and bands who’d recorded here adorned the walls of the front offices, gold and platinum records decorating the walls of the luxurylounge.
I wasn’t sure how Elle had managed to wrangle us studio time of this calibre on such short notice, but then again, she was Elle. Cody seemed more than happy to have herhere.
When we walked into the studio we’d be using, a few guys were setting up for us, a massive drum kit already in place in the drum room for Dylan. Dylan was there, behind the kit, making some adjustments and talking drum shop with the studiostaff.
This was really fuckinghappening…
Dylan came to greet us, hugging Elle and offering me a hand, which I shook in silence. I was in too much awe to speak. I was afraid if I did, I might break the spell and wake up from thisdream.
We talked for a while with Cody, about the songs, about why we were here today. Apparently, Dylan had been up half the night with the recordings we’d given him, playing around with somebeats.
But it was a solid few hours of playing through the songs with Dirty’s drummer before it all really sank in… That I was here, playing with Elle and Dylan, and we were recordingmusic.
It was just for fun, Elle had told Cody. Just tinkering around with some fresh material to see how it all sounded. But as the day progressed, I knew it was far more thanthat.
I got the feeling we were documenting our case, something formal to present to the rest of Dirty. Elle and Dylan hadn’t said so, but I was pretty sure if Dylan knew about this, it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the band did. Elle probably felt she had something to prove to them when they came knocking and accusing, and maybe this was her way of doing it. Her way of saying,Here you go, take a listen and judge, if youdare.
I wasn’t sure that was the best way to go about it, but I went along withit.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help wondering when this was all gonna fall apart,though.
I wondered, too, at what point Dylan would notice one of the lingering looks Elle and I kept giving each other as we played. The private smiles and stolen glances. I was more aware of them than ever, with him in the room, and Cody watching through the window from the controlroom.
But if he noticed, Dylan didn’t say a thing aboutit.
It wasn’t until halfway through the afternoon, as he strolled back into the studio bearing coffees that Joanie had picked up for us, and found Elle in my arms, that I knew we’d beencaught.
It was an innocent hug. I’d already finished groping her and kissing the fuck out of her. Actually, I’d already dragged her off to the bathroom to fuck her. Not the classiest move I’d ever made, but as soon as Dylan had walked out, Elle had cupped my cock and given me that storm-about-to-break look of hers, and it was either drag her off to the women’s room or fuck her right here, in front ofCody.
What else was I gonna do? Turn herdown?
Not fuckinglikely.
We’d fully recomposed ourselves, and I was pretty sure all our clothes were back on properly, but Dylan stopped in his tracks to stare at us. And it was clear, as Elle drew away from me, that it was too late. Our mutual post-sex satisfaction was written all over ourfaces.
Dylan took his coffee and handed the tray with the others toElle.
“So,” he said as he watched Elle hand me my coffee, “what’s really going on between youtwo?”
“Is it that obvious?” Elle asked, tooinnocently.
“It is to me,” Dylansaid.
Elle sipped her coffee. “We’re friends.” She held my gaze, and the look she gave me was far more thanfriendly.
“Uh-huh,” Dylan said, but that wasit.
* * *
On daytwo at Left Coast, Joanie poked her head into the studio, a frazzled, apologetic look on her freckled face, while we were recording. Seconds later, Dirty’s lead singer swaggered in, all blond fauxhawk, ice-blue eyes and killerconfidence.
Zane’s presence instantly changed the vibe in theroom.
I felt it, the second he walked in. Like the electric current that buzzed between us as we played together had been shut down, and everyone kindafroze.
