Sin With Me

27

Marcus shakes my hand. It’s like trying to shake hands with a catcher’s mitt. We give each other a manly, serious nod.

I try really hard not to puff out my chest the way my inner toddler is demanding I do.

“And I’m Nico. Nice to meet you, man.”

Nico and Marcus shake hands, too, and then Grace introduces Kat.

“And this is one of my best friends, Kat. Don’t let her size fool you, she’s savage in reverse proportion to her height.”

I watch Kat’s hand disappear into the monster that is Marcus’s hand. He says to her, “It’s a pleasure, Kat. I would say I’ve heard all about you, but . . .” He throws an easy smile at Grace. “That’d be a lie.”

Grace smiles back at him and shrugs.

My heart leaps. What does that mean? Why wouldn’t Grace have told him anything about her best friend? Does Grace not tell him anything about anything? Does Grace not really like him that much?

Don’t get too excited, bonehead. Just look at the size of his shoes and calm the f**k down.

“Amazing place you’ve got here, man.” Marcus addresses me, his voice sincere. “Used to be Spielberg’s if I’m not mistaken?”

“Yeah. That’s right. Thanks.”

“I’m really digging the open-plan living room with the peg-and-groove hardwood floors.”

I have no idea what peg-and-groove hardwood floors are. I only know that the floors are brown and made of dead trees. “Oh. Yeah. The peg and groove. Right.”

Grace c***s a brow at me. She obviously knows I have no idea what Marcus is talking about, but she doesn’t give me away. She turns the conversation to another topic before he can really do a number on what’s left of my shredded manhood and ask me what the roof is made of, to which I’d have to respond, “Roof stuff?”

“Are we early? I thought you said four o’clock, but it looks like we’re the first ones here. The valet guys were barely even awake out front.”

“Nope, you’re right on time.”

Grace looks confused. “Then where is everyone?”

Nico and I chuckle. I say, “The sun’s still up.”

“So . . . your friends only come out after dark? You close with a bunch of vampires or something?”

I shrug. “Musicians aren’t exactly known for their love of daylight and exemplary timeliness. I figure most people will start to show around six, which is when I wanted them here, which is why I told everyone four.”

Grace looks appalled. She turns to Marcus. “Are actors like that, too?”

He says, “Only the addicts. Most actors are so anal-retentive they show up two hours early.”

Grace pronounces, “Then I like actors better than musicians,” and I think my head will explode.

Nico glances at my face, tries not to smirk, fails miserably, and coughs into his hand again to hide his laugh.

Marcus gestures at the stage to our right. “You guys doing a private show tonight?”

“We were, but A.J. bailed so we don’t have a drummer, so I think we’ll probably just end up—”

“I can play drums,” says Marcus, full of confidence. “Been playing since I was a little kid. Had a music scholarship for college, too, but I took the football scholarship instead.”

When no one says anything because we’re all too mind-f****d over this new piece of news, he adds, “I mean, it’s cool if you don’t want me to. I’m actually really good, but no worries. I get it, band cohesiveness and everything. And no one could ever fill A.J.’s shoes anyway.”

Kat looks at Marcus’s feet, looks at me, and then pulls her lips between her teeth because she’s trying not to laugh.

“Would you all excuse me for a moment?” I say, smiling. “I just have to go inside and hang myself.”

Grace finds me in the kitchen just as I’m about to down my third shot of tequila.

“Hey, Kong,” she says casually, gliding in with that ballerina’s walk of hers. “That was a pretty fast exit you made back there.”

“Yeah, well, it was either run away or fling myself facedown in the sand and throw a tantrum, so I decided to go with running away. Plus, there’s tequila in here.”

“Oh? Needed something to steady your nerves?” “Ha. No, your boyfriend ate my nerves for lunch. This is just to get me through the next few hours until I can pass out at a respectable time. Hopefully black out so I won’t have to relive the joyous moment when I was completely emasculated in front of this girl that I’ve kinda sorta had a huge crush on since the dawn of time.”

I raise the shot glass in a toast to her, and then swallow its contents.

Smiling, she moves closer to where I’m standing at the sink. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

My eyes bulge. “If you say, ‘He’s just a stud that services me sexually with his enormous talent,’ you’ll have to deal with a grown man sobbing at your feet.”

She leans her hip against the counter, folds her arms over her chest, and levels me with her eyes.