Page 33 of Spark

RUBY

“ L a la la la la . . Laila ! Laila !”

I’m singing the famous hook from our global hit, “Hate Sex High,” alongside my two friends, Laila and Miranda.

But I’m not onstage from behind my keyboard, as usual.

No, this time, I’m bouncing around joyfully on a packed dance floor, as a group of top-tier, famous musicians, none of them members of my band, bang out this party favorite and make it their own.

It's the raucous after-party at Reed Rivers’ house.

As he always does when he throws one of his famous parties, he’s got a stage set up in the massive main room of his mansion where all the A-list musicians in attendance can climb onstage, at their pleasure, with a random assortment of musicians and perform for the rowdy, mostly inebriated crowd.

As always, the performances tonight have been nothing short of epic.

All night long, amazing River Records musicians, whether they’re in a band or known as a solo artist, have mixed and matched in random, impossible-to-predict combinations and brought us surprise covers of party favorites.

The only rule of Reed’s game? Whatever the random group selects to perform, it can’t be a song anyone onstage performs in their day job.

Yes, occasionally, I’ve seen musicians at Reed’s parties break this cardinal rule.

For instance, when the raucous crowd demands it in no uncertain terms. But normally, what we get is exactly the kind of once-in-a-lifetime performance the partygoers are experiencing now: a breathtaking assemblage of musicians, including the legendary drummer, C-Bomb, of Red Card Riot, brilliantly performing another artist’s song.

Currently, the band onstage is barreling toward one of the most famous lines from “Hate Sex High”: the one Savage deadpans in a smug, spoken voice: “ You came three times .” And the dance floor is buzzing with anticipation, ready to sing along when Dean Masterson, the lead singer of Red Card Riot, delivers the iconic line.

But much to the thrill of the audience rocking out and watching with anticipation, when the time comes, Dean throws it over to C-Bomb, which then causes everyone in the entire party to lose their minds in a whole new way.

I mean, come on. C-Bomb delivered “You came three times”? Somebody pinch me.

After C-Bomb says the famous words, I high-five Laila, since that line was written about her.

I can’t even imagine how electrifying it must feel to be the person who inspired a song.

A nice one, anyway, unlike what Cooper wrote about me.

And then to have that song go on to become a global sensation, an iconic song that will be played at parties for decades to come, now that certain lines from it have reached singalong status.

But on top of all that, Laila now gets to hear one of the sexiest, burliest, biggest bad boys in all of music perform the line written for her, while her husband can only look on helplessly from wherever he is at this party and watch his wife get aurally fucked by another man? If it were me, I’d need the crash cart.

After high-fiving lucky Laila, I high-five, Miranda, since she’s C-Bomb’s little sister, and I can easily see she’s loving this wickedly fun moment for her big brother.

From there, I look around for Savage and Kendrick, since I know they’re probably partying together, and I’m dying to see their reactions.

When I locate them, I’m surprised to find them standing at the side of the raised stage.

Not surprisingly, both men look thrilled with the performance of our song.

But even better than that, at least for me, is the fact that Savage and Kendrick are standing next to two musicians from two other bands, which can only mean one thing in the context of a Reed Rivers party: Our Fugitive Summer boys are waiting in the wings to climb onto that stage to perform some random song that’s decidedly not in our band’s catalog.

I swat Laila’s arm like a maniac and excitedly direct her attention to Kendrick and Savage, and Laila instantly screams and jumps up and down at the sight of them. In a frenzy, we both direct Miranda’s attention to the same spot, and our friend immediately shares our over-the-top reaction.

Miranda shouts something to Laila I can’t make out, thanks to the loud music, but I’m able to guess the gist of the comment when Laila shouts in reply, “I had no idea!” With a cackle of delight, Laila turns to me and bats my arm.

“That man is definitely getting fucked tonight!” When I snicker with her, Laila shocks me by adding: “ And so is Savage !”

As I gasp at her implication, Laila throws back her head and laughs from the depths of her soul. It’s not the first time Laila’s dropped a little hint about Kendrick and me getting together. All day long, she’s been making suggestive comments like that.

Why? That’s the question. Is she merely referring to the fake relationship we play-acted during the press conference?

Or is she dead serious—as in, she can tell I’ve become increasingly Kendrick-curious over the past week?

As in, perhaps she sees something I can’t see myself about Kendrick’s possible sexual interest in me?

At this point, I’m fervently hoping that last option is the thing that’s been egging her on.

But I can’t tell for sure, and I’ve been too afraid to ask.

Till now, that is.

Thanks to liquid courage, perhaps, and maybe also combined with the natural high of all this dancing and singing we’re doing, and maybe even thanks to C-Bomb making my panties damp with his delivery of the famous line from our song, I’m suddenly feeling empowered to throw caution to the wind and ask Laila why the hell she’s been brazenly shipping Kendrick and me today.

I pull Laila’s ear to my mouth. “Why do you keep joking about Kendrick and me getting together? Do you know something I don’t?”

Laila opens and closes her mouth, her expression like a kid caught with cookie crumbs all over her lips. But after a beat, Laila taps her ear and makes an “I can’t hear you!” face, right before abruptly turning toward the stage to glory in the remainder of the epic performance.

Well, that was interesting. Laila’s facial expression practically screamed “Guilty as charged!” So, I don’t buy for a second she couldn’t hear my question.

Hmm .

I’m deeply tempted to pull on a lock of Laila’s famous blonde hair—gently, of course; I’m not that a big a monster—and force her to answer me.

But then again, the band onstage is reaching their final chorus, which means someone on that stage is about to perform Savage’s famous, spoken last words of the song: “Did he make you come three times? Yeah, didn’t think so .

” And I couldn’t possibly make Laila miss that historic moment.

Heck, I don’t want to miss it, either. It’s a massively famous line.

One I crack up hearing every time we perform the song, even to this day, simply because Savage delivers it with such snark and glee, every single time.

Plus, Dean Masterson, the lead singer of Red Card Riot who’s singing our song, is one hell of a walking thirst trap.

So, whether he’s going to speak the line or throw it back to C-Bomb again, I know the moment is going to make my panties wet again, and probably also make every person at this party, gay, straight, queer or otherwise, experience a similar reaction.

The moment is upon us now.

The song is almost there.

But to my surprise and delight, right before the cue comes, Dean Masterson looks to his left, to where Kendrick and Savage are standing with those two other guys, and he shouts into his mic, “Kendrick fucking Cook! Get your hot ass up here and close this shit out for us, KC!”

The scream that involuntarily hurtles from my throat makes the top of my head feel like it’s popping off. And when Kendrick immediately answers the call by bounding onto the stage like the athlete he is, my screams, along with those around me, become even louder and more head-popping.

Oh my god. Kendrick is center stage now, in all his swaggy, smiling, muscular glory, pumping his fist and shaking his hot ass to the dirty beat supplied by C-Bomb, while Dean Masterson takes a step back to let Kendrick own the moment.

Dean makes a hand signal to the musicians onstage—the universal symbol for “one more time around”—and off they go, playing the lead-up to Kendrick’s cue, one more time, while Kendrick dances around and looks like a golden god up there.

The crowd is going wild with anticipation, not to mention at the sight of Kendrick letting loose.

Surely they’re all very much appreciating Kendrick’s beautiful physique and charisma as he dances around up there at center stage.

Especially because it’s not something we normally get to see during a show, since he’s always sitting behind a drumkit .

Holy shit.

Here we go.

The band has now cycled through the lead-up for a second time. The cue for Kendrick’s line is imminent.

But no.

This time, it’s Kendrick who makes the “one more time around” signal to the band, which causes the entire crowd to explode even more, especially when Kendrick starts using the extra time to remove some of his pesky clothes while gyrating sexually, like a seasoned male stripper, at center stage.

Off goes Kendrick’s jacket first.

And then, the shirt that made his muscles look mouthwatering.

Until, finally, he’s standing before the rabid crowd, shirtless, his tattoos and muscles on full display, his smile wide and wicked.