Page 76 of Filthy Beautiful
If there was any chance I was gonna end up in a band with her, this was fucking imperative.
Tonight seemed like a great time to do it, anyway, because I knew Ash wouldn’t be here. When I’d messaged him to see if he was coming, he said he was down in Seattle tonight with his girlfriend, for a concert.
Just as well.
Gave me a chance to scope out what Summer Sorenson was all about on my own. I’d met her before, and I’d been to parties where she was doing the DJ thing, but I hadn’t been to any of her club shows.
I found her backstage. The girl was pretty hard to miss in any room. Long, dark hair. Great body. She wore a vibrant blue jumpsuit thing with a matching headband, and platform heels that put her almost at my height. She wasn’t tall, but the heels were.
She gave me a hug and a kiss and introduced me around as “this hot drummer” while she held my hand. The girl was a major flirt, but flirting, for her, seemed like a form of currency or something. A business transaction.
I didn’t think she was actually into women, but she flirted with everyone in the room just about the same.
I didn’t take it personally.
I hung out with her for a while, backstage, and then headed out to the VIP area with some of her posse—the girl had an extensive posse of cute chicks, I’d give her that—to get comfortable while she got ready to take the stage.
DJ Summer definitely knew how to treat a guy like a VIP.
While she was busy, she had one of her girls introducing me around to everyone I didn’t know, and bringing me drinks. I pretty much stuck to a gin and juice—or two—then switched to water. I was driving home later, and tonight was more of a business thing than a pleasure thing.
Another point to Summer’s credit: her guest list was shit-hot. Some pretty impressive VIPs from the local music scene—besides myself—had come out to the show. Including her good friend Elle Delacroix, Dirty’s bassist.
Elle arrived shortly after I did, with a few of her girlfriends, flanked by a couple of security guys from Dirty’s team.
I made a point of talking to her for a while. I’d known Elle for a long time. And even though she was pregnant last winter while I’d toured with Dirty and she wasn’t playing any live shows, she was on that tour. I’d gotten to know her pretty well. I’d hung out with her and her man, Seth—Dirty’s rhythm guitarist—a lot on the road.
Seth wasn’t here tonight, so I made sure to send him a pic of me hugging Elle in her tight little gold dress and smiling my face off.
I was thoughtful like that.
Then I settled in with Jordan and some girls she’d invited to meet us here, friends of hers.
One of them, a curvy brunette who sat right next to me, seemed to be totally into me. She put her hand on my thigh as we talked.
Leaned back against the nearby wall, Lucas raised an eyebrow at me, like,You need me over there?
I shook my head.
He smirked and stayed where he was.
And obviously, it occurred to me that I could hook up with this chick. She was sending me all the right vibes.
I bought her a couple of drinks, even though I wasn’t drinking, as I started to seriously consider it…
Because maybe this was just what I needed?
Sex.
Casual sex.
With someone who wasn’t Courteney Clarke.
Maybe then I’d remind myself how fucking awesome sex was—you know, when I was actually having it—and get over this fucked-up preoccupation with a girl I couldn’t have sex with.
I’d almost managed to convince myself that this nightshouldend with this curvy brunette riding my dick—when Courteney walked in.
And my whole night ground to a halt.
