“You know who the bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers is?” Green asked me. The shock on his face made me smile.
“Yes, I do. Flea is one of the greats in my opinion. But Jon Paul Jones is my all-time favorite,” I replied.
Green slammed his still full shot glass on the table and some of it splashed over the side. “Holy shit! She knows the bassist for Led f**king Zeppelin!”
He shifted his awed look to Cage, “I’ll do anything man. Just let me have her, please?”
Cage’s arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me closer to his side. “Not happening. Back off.”
“Fuck man, do you know how many girls I’ve met that don’t even know what the hell a bassist is? NONE! Fucking NONE! Where’d you get her? I want one too.”
Cage chuckled beside me, “Sorry, man. It’s not happening.”
“You could maybe go to a music school and actually meet girls who know how to play the bass. Typically the ones you pick up in bars only know how to unzip your pants.” I informed him.
The entire table burst into laughter. Cage placed a kiss on the top of my head and squeezed my side.
“Okay, hell now I want one,” Krit chimed in.
“You are bringing her around more often Cage. I like this one,” Trisha said smiling at me.
“What do you mean by ‘this one’?” Green asked before draining his shot glass. “There ain’t ever been another one he kept more than a couple hours.”
“That’s enough you two. I’m not in the mood to keep your asses from being strung up by Cage tonight. If he decides to shut you up I’m gonna let him,” Rock spoke up for the first time.
“He knows we’re kidding,” Krit shot me a cocky grin and winked.
“Fuuuck, I ain’t kidding. I want her,” Green said before turning to take another shot glass from a waitress.
“MATTY!” Krit called out over the crowd. I noticed girls with too much makeup and not enough clothing hovering around us like vultures. Were they waiting on one of the band members to notice them?
A guy with long hair that stuck straight up in the air and really tight jeans sauntered up with a girl on each arm. Neither of them looked older than seventeen. I was more than positive they weren’t legal.
“Please tell me you checked ID,” Green moaned in annoyance.
“I trust them. They’re both eighteen, aren’t you girls?”
The girls bobbed their heads in unison.
“Sure they are,” Cage muttered beside me.
The new guy finally looked our way and his focus shifted from Cage to me back to Cage. “You already picked one for the night?”
Cage made an aggravated sound in his throat. “Eva, this is Matty the drummer. Matty, this is Eva, my date.” The warning look in Cage’s eyes wasn’t lost on me.
Matty’s surprised expression was something I was getting used to. If it was really this crazy for Cage to date just one girl then why was he out with me? If we slept together would that be it? Would he be done with me? Had I kidded myself into thinking he was a nice guy? Because I knew he wasn’t exactly a good guy.
“I’ll be damned,” was Matty’s reply.
“Yeah, we already knew you were damned. Even before you decided to have a go with two high school freshman.” Krit drawled in an amused tone.
“I told you they’re eighteen,” Matty insisted.
“We’re up in two,” Green interrupted them and took one last swallow from his newest shot glass. How many had he drunk during his five-minute break?
“Bring her back,” Green called out to Cage and then winked at me.
“Sorry about him. But you did unleash some stellar knowledge of famous bassists. That’s like p**n for Green,” Cage said with a smirk.