Twenty-Two

VELAA, THE MALDIVES

DYLAN

Warming up for our first impromptu jam session, you’d think we were a high school band, because some of us are tuning up our instruments, while others of us are playing snippets of various songs. The din is enough to give a person with good hearing an immediate hearing impairment, or a killer headache.

It’s louder than it would be with just the four of us, because Sky’s band is also here, minus her drummer for now, and some of our plus ones are in the room, as well. Alyssa and her date are sitting at the keyboard, where she is playing one of her songs, and singing low, while the guy is looking at her as if she hung the fucking moon.

Thankfully Brody, with Sky at his side, finishes tuning his guitar and calls us all to attention.

“Hey guys. Welcome to the first of several jam sessions we’re hoping to have while we’re at Velaa. Sky and I figured this beautiful location among friends might inspire those of us who are musically inclined to collaborate and create some music together. And of course those of you who aren’t musically inclined might serve as our muses, or perhaps help you to excel in whatever art form you create. If you’re only in the mood to listen to us play, well, we like having an audience.” He laughs and the room bursts into cheers.

“Since we have what amounts to two bands. I thought we might split up next time, but today, let’s all jam!” Sky says.

Brody plays the guitar intro to a song we all know well enough to play in our sleep. It’s our very first hit, so both bands fall in, no problem, and when Alyssa realizes what we’re playing, she falls in on the keyboard. Without Stephen, we would’ve been without the fullness of our original sound, but she plays it beautifully providing the missing element we would certainly have been without if she didn’t have our backs.

When Brody sings, his signature Savage Saban raspy growl gives me chills. When I glance at Finn and George, they’re grinning like they’ve gone to heaven and Brody is the saint who holds the key to the gate. When we finish that first song, we launch into another of our hits and then I realize Brody is taking us through our final concert set list, song for song.

Sky sings back-up and provides a comparable voice where Kimberly Heart’s signature sound used to be. Her voice is mellower than Kim’s and she doesn’t growl like a rocker, but it works. Alyssa is really holding her own on the keyboard. This gives me some ammunition to convince the guys that she could be a viable addition to the group, adding a voice and a much-needed instrument to The Savages.

I know Finn and George are anxious to get something going again, so the timing is perfect. And while these jam sessions are nostalgic and a great way to break the ice since we haven’t played together for years, it isn’t a reunion. Brody is adamant that he isn’t interested in reprising his role as our front man, so I would be just as jazzed to have a front woman, and a chance to work with Alyssa on the daily. It would be a brilliant opportunity for us to revive The Savages with a new sound.

A half an hour later, Dani inquires by gesture, if I want something to drink, and I nod. She retrieves a couple of bottles of water from the drink and snack table the service staff has set up for us in the room. By the time she opens and takes a drink of her own bottle, we are finishing up the sixth song ending where our natural break was in the gig all those years ago. The room erupts, and not only are significant others and plus ones applauding, but the band is too. I use my sticks as noisemakers amid the clapping, wolf whistles and cat-calls until everyone quiets down and begin to talk almost all at once.

“That was amazing,” Dani says, as she hands me my bottle of water. “Being here in the midst of this music I used to play on a loop, is so surreal.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

She snuggles close to me. To the room it looks more intimate than it really is.

“You think you can run interference for me and Finn when the time comes?”

Her words have me doing a double take. “What? You couldn’t have talked to him more than five minutes last night.” This chick works fast. What did she do, promise him a blow job or something?

“It’s the quality, not the quantity of interaction that counts,” she says. “I talked to him about his favorite rock bands, because I overheard Chelsea say that rock music gives her a migraine. If you’ll notice, she’s the only one wearing those headphones kids wear to soften the music.”

I glance at Chelsea, who does look more uncomfortable than anyone in the room. She doesn’t even smile until Eric waves to her from the piano bench where Alyssa has abandoned him to go chat with Sky. Alyssa and Eric make a nice enough couple at face value, but there’s something that doesn’t quite vibe with them. Then there’s the fact that he’s waving at another chick like they’ve become best buds overnight, and how Alyssa looks at him like she’s slightly repulsed sometimes.

The PDA with them has been kind of over-the-top, too. The guy’s a fucking actor, so he’s putting forth his best performance. I don’t think he’s really as into Alyssa as he pretends. He’s on a date with her in a romantic locale, so if he’s not trying to score here he’s an imbecile, but Alyssa doesn’t need another heartbreak. I wish I hadn’t been the sponsor of her first one, but there’s nothing to be done about that now. I can, however, derail this one.

Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance to be alone with her over the next couple of days. As more guests show up, namely the dancers and their significant others and our numbers swell significantly on Velaa, our schedules don’t coincide very much.

Dani and I, especially Dani, are having fun hanging out with my band mates, and getting to know Sky and Alyssa’s band and dancers. Alyssa and I get glimpses of one another when we’re at the communal meals, but end up never getting a chance to do anything other than that. Meanwhile, Alyssa’s date is being a perfect gentleman and they seem to be getting along well, even though the PDA is a bit more subtle.

We are having another jam session when I catch a break. Alyssa comes alone this time and although Dani is with me, and is none too pleased with me ditching her, I take an opportunity to talk to Alyssa during a break. I catch her grabbing a juice bottle out of the drink cooler.

“Can I get one of those, too?” I ask innocently.

“Sure.” She hands me the one she’d just retrieved and reaches back in to get another one, and I get a glimpse of her amazing ass. I make sure to keep my gaze impassive when she stands upright.

I crack the seal on my juice bottle and set it on the table. “Here, I’ll open that for you.”

She hands hers over to me with a wry smile. “You know, I could’ve opened that. No problem.”

I grin back at her. “I’m sure you could have, but... gentleman.” I hand her juice back.

“Right. I’m sure the Castle charm has won a slew of dates for you guys over the years.” She does that cute little half eye-roll she sometimes does when she’s not annoyed, but the next word or gesture could put her firmly in that column.

I change the subject. “Hey, you know that first song you did during the concert?”

“Bulletproof?”

“Yeah. I was telling the guys about it and they’d like to hear it.”

Her face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah, and if that one doesn’t seal the deal to get them on board to give you a shot, I don’t know what will.”

“Dylan, you know we don’t have to do that if it’s going to be a source of contention between us down the road.”

“Why would it be?”

She gives me an ‘are you shitting me?’ look, and I sigh, shaking my head.

“I’m prepared to take whatever role in your life you want me to.”

“Oh. I thought we were firmly in the friend-zone, especially now that Dani’s in your life.” There’s the green-eyed monster.

“I recall us having a conversation in your car back in LA, where I put the ball squarely in your court.”

“My court?” She looks confused, then as she’s remembers. “Oh, if I remember correctly, that was a truce about our chemistry. A compromise about not acting on it unless...” Her face contorts again as she realizes the ball was most certainly in her court.

“Can I be totally honest with you?”

“Please.” She says, through barely concealed sarcasm.

I move closer to her speaking slightly above a whisper. “My mother did set me up with Dani, but we’re not interested in one another like that. She has a crush on Finn. Has for years.”

Alyssa gasps and her eyes widen. “Seriously?”

I grin sheepishly. “Seriously.”

She lowers her voice conspiratorially and says wryly, “In the spirit of full disclosure I found Eric through IYM.”

“That outfit that Brody was working for when he met Sky?”

She nods, chuckling. “Yes.”

When our eyes lock, we both descend into a fit of laughter. We’re laughing so hard, Dani narrows her eyes at us, and the rest of our friends in the room look askance at us, like we’ve suddenly lost our fucking minds.

Alyssa and I have always gotten one another, intuitively. We laugh at a lot of the same jokes, and my inherent chill is a perfect foil for her prickliness. Her prickly behavior comes from the enormous chip she wears on her shoulder to keep people from hurting her. Jacob Lawrence disappointed her so much in her life, then I come along and do it after she’s been vulnerable with me in a way that she hasn’t been with any other man. The only reason we’re not together now is because I fucked up, and the only reason she’s not giving me another chance is because she’s afraid I’ll fuck up. Again. My laughter dies an immediate death at that realization.

“Um, I think we’re drawing an audience,” I say, my hand going to her lower back as if I’ve earned that right again.

That move effectively kills her laughter, and she looks nervously around, then back up at me. She clears her throat. “Erm, yeah, and Dani is looking as if she and I were inmates, she’d shank me in my sleep.”

We both laugh again at that visual and the utter hilarity of the situation.

We don’t stop laughing this time until Brody calls us back to order. “Okay, guys. Let’s finish up this jam session before Alyssa and Dylan’s private joke fucks up our mojo,” and he says this with such obvious glee, Alyssa doesn’t even read him for it.

We just part as if we’re two errant youths in a high school class who’ve been called out by their stern teacher. I take my place behind the drums, and Alyssa goes back to the keyboard, adjusting the mic in preparation for the second half of our session.

I ignore the daggers Dani’s shooting my way, and I’m sure I’m going to get an earful when we’re alone, but at this point, I don’t care. Alyssa and I shared a moment where neither of us was manufacturing any moves trying to make the other jealous. We came clean, at least on that secret, and it feels invigorating.

Emboldened by either Finn and George’s request, or our moment of levity, Alyssa speaks up. “Hey Brody? Can we do Bulletproof?”

“Yeah. You got sheet music for the band?”

“Sure do.” She grabs a folder off the music stand and gives Finn and George each a copy, then extends the folder to me. “You good, Dylan?”

“I’m great,” I say with a smirk. I remember this song because number one, it’s hers, and number two, it’s a damn good rock anthem.

Alyssa grins and bites her bottom lip in that coy flirtatious way she does sometimes that slays me, and practically skips back to the piano bench. Dani catches the exchange between us, rolls her eyes, raises her hands in an “I give up,” motion and sits down. She may be pissed that I’m not following through on our devious plan for a minute, but she’ll get over it soon enough, especially if Finn gives her any play on this trip.

I am not under the illusion or delusion that all is forgiven by Alyssa because of a confession and bit of shared humor, but I do know her well enough to know that the ice is broken.

We give Finn and George a chance to run through the song without vocals, and then Alyssa joins us with her lyrics. The guys give Brody and me the same look that he and I shared when Alyssa did this song live at the concert. Her rocker growl totally channels Kim Heart, and when she finishes the final note holding it so long we can’t believe she isn’t out of breath, the guys end with a crescendo and immediately whoop for joy.

“Damn, Lawrence!” Finn says.

“Where’d you get those rocker pipes?” George says.

“That’s my best friend,” Sky says as if this somehow lends more credence to Alyssa’s performance.

Brody, looking like a proud papa says, “She sounds a lot like Kim on that song, doesn’t she?”

I just nod my head, as if to say, “I told you so.”

George and Finn surround Alyssa at the keyboard, chatting her up about the performance. I would be surprised if that song didn’t sell them on her.

Brody and Sky join me as I stand up and move away from the drum kit. “If the guys have bought it, I think we should get you all under contract pronto. Alyssa’s going on a press junket when Sky and I come back from our honeymoon, so it would be great to sew this up before we leave. That way you can all go with her.”

“A revival of The Savages with her as your lead singer can only make her album sales skyrocket, and any new music you make together is going to solidify you as a group, even without Savage Saban,” Sky says with a grin at Brody.

“I’m game,” I say.

“Of course you are,” Brody says with a sly smile. “Should we be celebrating another reunion?”

I frown. “Not yet. I’ve got a bit more groveling to do, but I’m up for the challenge.”

“I wouldn’t do it while she’s here with another guy but give her an African Violet. It was her mom’s favorite flower,” Sky offers. “We’re rooting for you two.”

Brody nods vigorously in assent. “Yeah, bro. Get your girl, so my bride won’t be worried about her on our honeymoon.”

“That’s the plan,” I say, as I turn to look at the woman in question. She’s grinning hard at whatever George and Finn are saying, and I can only assume it’s good, if the surreptitious wink she gives me is any indication.