Smolder (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Skyler

I rested the sticks on the snare and grabbed the towel I’d tossed on the riser where Regal’s massive kit was assembled, patting off the drenching sweat I’d worked up. We’d been practicing and working out the kinks in my arrangement all morning. We’d played it through five times, adjusting after each run, and finally, Ace had decided to record it so we could get feedback from the band.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was riding a high after playing the song with the full band. JD, River, and I had been working on disjointed parts of the song for several days, and we all agreed we needed a keyboard to round out the sound. When River mentioned it to Regal, he brought in Arlo, a cool guy two years older than River.

Arlo brought a buddy of his, and dang, that guy could belt out a song with the best of them. His name was Golden Robbins, Goldie for short. He and Arlo had grown up together. They were decent guys and added to the sound I’d hoped to create for the new iteration of the song.

I stood, stepping off the riser and bending over to stretch out the knots from sitting on the stool for so long. I grabbed my T-shirt and slid it on before I walked around the kit and gave everyone a hug. We had played hard and done a great job, but we still had a lot of work to do.

We walked into the booth where the band and Marshall were waiting, and I saw Sandy with a big smile. He even winked.

“Thoughts? Criticisms?” I eyed each of the band’s original members, knowing my father couldn’t keep his mouth shut. No one said a word, so Ace hit the playback, and we listened for a moment before they finally started speaking.

“The intro needs to go slower. I can’t play that fast anymore.” Dusty looked at me, so I nodded. When I was composing the guitar score for the intro, I wasn’t sure Dusty could play at the tempo we set, but we could slow the intro down for him.

Ace stopped the playback. “Regal, man, you can’t sing that high.”

“We can lower it,” I told my dad as he stared at Goldie.

I glanced at Ripper, who laughed. “I think what you created is perfect, Sky. I just know us old farts can’t play or sing it like you boys just did.”

“Wait, guys. If you’re not happy with what Skyler created, we can have someone else take a crack at it. This isn’t the only iteration of the song, okay?” Marsh glanced around, his face filled with panic.

Ace hit the button to continue the song, and nobody said anything until the end. I glanced over to see my father looking down at his fingers, tapping a beat on the couch cushion between his legs. I wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

When Ace lowered the fader controlling the song and shifted another up, I held my breath. It was the score I’d roughed out for the soundtrack that I hadn’t known was being recorded. “When did you get that?”

Regal chuckled. “I snuck in here the other day to record you guys so we old men had some idea of what you’d come up with.”

There was no word from anyone regarding what they’d heard. My frustration bubbled over, and I walked out the studio door to the paddock where the miniature donkey was still roaming around, now with a cat friend on his back.

I walked to the fence and banged my head against the top fence rail. Obviously, it was a mess. “Fuck.”

That deep chuckle had me turning my head. “I knew a bad boy was in there somewhere. I don’t know what the problem is with the band, but I thought it was amazing. You wanna go commit a sin or two?”

I turned and rested my forehead against Sandy’s broad chest as though it was natural. Surprisingly, his strong arms wrapped around me like steel bands. He kissed the top of my head, and the tears came, which I couldn’t stop.

“Let’s go get drunk, teach.” Without waiting for another word, Sandy picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, causing me to giggle, which I hadn’t done since I was a kid.

He carried me out to his SUV, opened the door, and plopped my butt in the passenger seat before he opened the console and pulled out a box of tissues. After buckling my seatbelt, he lifted my chin with his index finger, plucking two tissues from the box and patting my eyes. “Beautiful, you did an exemplary job, and if those folks are too dumb or old to hear it, then fuck them.” He kissed my forehead and closed the door, amazing me again.

Sandy backed out of the parking spot, spun the wheel like an Indy car driver, and once he made a right onto the blacktop, he took my left hand and placed it on his right thigh, covering it with his.

“We need to talk, Sky. We both have some decisions to make and maybe if we talk them out together, we can help each other come to some conclusions. What do you say?”

“Okay.” That was all that would come out without more tears following.

Sandy chuckled again, driving back to San Jose and pulling into the parking lot of a place called Cash Bar. “Is this your spot?”

Sandy turned to me. “I’ve been here a time or two. This place has pool and an old-school tavern feel. I think you’ll like it if you give it a chance, teach.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt, blew my nose, and exited the SUV. Sandy caught up to me and put his hand on my neck as he guided me toward the door. The guy was incredible, and I fell for him just a little harder.

We ordered drinks—me a lemon drop cocktail with a sugar and salt rim, and Sandy got a Greyhound. I wasn’t a goodie-goodie. I’d gone to bars with the folks on my softball team, and we teachers had a Friday night out twice a year—before the Christmas break and the end of the school year. I’d missed the last happy hour to come waste my time in Cupertino, and I’d almost regret it if I wasn’t sitting in a booth across from a gorgeous former football player.

“What’s on your mind?”

The server delivered our drinks and a basket of popcorn. Sandy stared at me as he took a sip of his drink.

He put it on the table and cleared his throat. “The other day, I thought going back into football as a coach was exactly what I wanted. When I got fired from Chicago, I was willing to be the fucking towel boy just to stay in the game. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity for a goddamn year, and I’m done with it.”

I took a sip of my drink as he spoke. It was delicious, and I couldn’t really taste the alcohol, which was likely bad news because it would hit me like a ton of bricks when I least expected it.

“So, you’re not going to the minicamp?”

“No, I’m going because I want to get a feel for the team. I’ll be accompanying you guys on the road, and I’ll decide after the tour what I want to do. That’s the deal I’m gonna present to Kathleen, anyway. She can take it or leave it. Now, you.”

“Me?” I sipped my drink, slipping my tongue out to catch the sugar and salt on my lips.

“Hmm. God, that kills me.” His eyes grew heavy-lidded, though I wasn’t sure why.

“Huh?”

The server returned, and Sandy ordered another round of drinks and an order of jumbo corn nuts. “They only serve snacks here, but I’ve got a place in mind for us to eat. So, what do you need to decide? Are you going to freak out because you don’t think they liked your rewrite of ‘Bury Me’? I think it’s a huge upgrade, but what do I know?”

That was a great question. “I went on the road with my dad and the band a couple of times, and every night of their tours, they played the same set. No changes. No new jokes or banter. No variations whatsoever, not even when they had a high-energy crowd. That’s why they got tired of touring and making music. They got complacent and started fighting. They actually broke up at one point, though they didn’t announce anything because I guess they didn’t think anybody cared.”

As I kid, I didn’t see why they fought all the time, but as an adult looking back, it was plain as day. One of the guys would suggest something—mixing up the playlist, changing an intro to a song, or playing a cover of someone else’s song—and the rest of the band would pick it apart until the idea was abandoned completely.

“Would you ever consider giving up teaching to pursue performing and composing?” Sandy picked up some popcorn and sifted it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. He was so bleeping sexy I had to push my palm into my dick to try to get control of it before I embarrassed myself.

“That’s a hard question. I really enjoyed what we did today. I think it’s the critique from the band or the fans that I hate. When my kids perform at competitions, I dread them having to listen to the judges’ remarks. I want them to enjoy the mere act of performing, but to keep the funding coming, we’re required to participate in competitions. The school district pours all its extra money into the sports teams, so we have to get our money from donations. I wish we didn’t have to compete because it’s a killer to the kids’ motivation if the critique is harsh.”

Sandy’s face spread into a kind smile. “You love those kids, don’t you?”

I drained my cocktail as the server brought the next round and our jumbo corn nuts sprinkled with chili powder and cumin. They were warm and tasted delicious.

“I love my kids. They’re all so excited to learn, and when I see one of them get it , I throw a little parade in my head. It’s like a reward for me.”

I’d never said those things to anyone, not even my mother. With the rock ’n roll lifestyle she lived with Regal, I wasn’t sure she’d understand, and I knew Regal wouldn’t get it at all. They already thought I was odd because I was gay. I was careful not to share such personal details for their judgment.

Sandy’s phone rang, which reminded me I’d left mine at the studio behind the drum kit. For once, I didn’t give a crap.

Sandy picked up his phone and checked the screen, chuckling to himself before he sent the call to voicemail. He glanced up and grinned. “I hope there are more teachers like you out there. I remember back in high school, I had a coach like that. He was great. He expected a lot from us, but he was diligent about giving us our props and telling us he was proud of us.” Sandy slipped into a memory right there before my eyes. His sweet smile made me want to kiss him and hold him in my arms—more than usual.

I nodded. “I wish to heck Coach Sutter at West Peoria was that way. I hear him yelling at the team all the time, and it’s never in praise. I want to give them all a hug, though they’d probably beat me to a pulp.” We both laughed before we finished our drinks.

Sandy tossed money on the table and reached for my hand. “Let’s go eat before we go home. How’d you get to your mother’s place this morning?”

I’d returned the rental car Marshall had left because I wasn’t using it every day, so the money was being wasted. I’d been fortunate that JD didn’t live far from the rental company and was willing to pick me up and give me a ride to Cupertino.

“I returned the rental your brother left. JD lives a few miles from the rental place, so he met me there and gave me a ride out.”

We walked out of the bar and got into the SUV. Sandy touched my thigh, sending hot sparks directly to my crotch. “You can use one of my cars. No need to fuck around with the rental.”

He pulled onto a side street and turned around, parking the SUV in the parking lot of a steakhouse called Prime. I chuckled. “Why’d you move it?”

“I hate parking on the street, but that place doesn’t have a parking lot because it’s in a zoned residential neighborhood. We were in a two-hour zone, and I think it’ll take us longer than forty-five minutes to eat.”

We got out, and Sandy put his left hand on the back of my neck again, guiding me to the entrance. The smell when he opened the large wooden door nearly knocked me over. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until that moment.

We ordered the twenty-ounce porterhouse steak to share, along with sides, and we feasted. I hadn’t laughed so hard as I did through dinner as we swapped stories from our various experiences, him in football and me in teaching.

Sandy ordered a piece of chocolate cake for us to share, and we both ordered coffee. We’d switched to iced tea with the meal, so we were sober by the time we finished eating.

We got into an arm-wrestling contest at the table for the check, and finally, Sandy let me pay. The meal was delicious and the company better, so it was definitely worth the tab.

Sandy opened the door for me and waited for me to step out before he followed very closely. “We didn’t really talk about what I had in mind.”

We walked around the side of the building, and when we stepped into a dark spot on the way to the parking lot, Sandy spun me against the building and caged me in with his arms. “Hmm. What I wanted to talk about was us . What’s this draw between us? Do you know, because I can’t get you out of my head.”

Without waiting for him to say another word, I pushed my body into his and kissed him, tasting the chocolate and coffee that we’d just enjoyed. Sandy pushed me against the building again and pressed his body to mine, lips to toes.

Our tongues battled in his mouth, then mine, as my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders for balance. It wasn’t just our first kiss. It was the most amazing kiss I’d ever had.