Page 76 of A Tragic Melody

“Thanks. I kind of want to get lucky tonight, so keep her busy for the next hour or so, okay?” Quinn grins.

“You? Get lucky?” David laughs. “I’d pay to see that.”

“I get lucky often—I just don’t brag about it like the rest of you.”

“Sure.” David laughs. “I’ll believe it when I see it. The only person who I think probably gets lucky but doesn’t talk about it, is Wyatt.” He glances over at me.

“I haven’t gotten lucky in months.” I shrug.

“Seriously?” David laughs. “Your poor hand.”

“Don’t do much of that, either.” I shrug, grabbing my bag. “I’ll babysit Tuesday tonight. You go have fun.” I nod at Quinn. “See you guys later.”

When I walk out to the common area, I find Tuesday is sipping from a bottle of vodka. She’s sitting beside Michael playing with his hair aimlessly.

“How does it feel to hear me sing songs you sung?” she asks, slurring slightly.

“It’s kind of hot.” Michael laughs as his hand rests on her thigh. I should let him seal his fate by fucking her. There is no way she wouldn’t tell Hendricks about that and end his career. She would do that for me if I asked, and probably just cause.

“Only kind of?” Tuesday laughs. Her eyes droop as she takes another sip from the bottle. I take a seat on the couch across from them. “Wyatt, what do you think?” She eyes me. “Is hearing me sing your songs kind of hot?”

Michael eyes me, fury in his eyes. I know he isn’t happy about it. He might say it’s hot to Tuesday’s face, but that’s only because he wants to fuck her. The truth is he isn’t happy about it, but what can he do? Tuesday is the headliner, and I’m sure if he went to the label, they would laugh at him.

“I think you sing my songs much better than him,” I reply. “And everyone knows it.”

She grins, leaning her head against his arm. “He isn’t wrong,” she says. “But it’s okay. Unlike him, I might let you fuck me.”

“Has he said no?” Michael laughs. “I’m not surprised. Wyatt is extremely boring.” His hand slides higher up her thigh.

“Are you going to take that, Wyatt?” She giggles.

“He can call me boring all he wants. His opinion matters very little to me.”

“And if I fuck him?” she asks, still staring at me. “How would you feel about that?”

“I’d tell you to use a condom so I can make you come after he fails to do so.”

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Michael snaps.

“Sure,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “Come on, Tues, let’s get you to the bus before you pass out.”

“She is fine where she is.” Michael glares. “If you want to be a stick in the mud, you go back to the bus. She’d rather hang out with me anyways, right?”

“Nope.” Tuesday laughs, sliding away from him. She pushes to her feet, nearly toppling over. I reach forward to steady her, and she leans into my touch. “I’m so sleepy, Wyatt.” She clings to my arm. “Take me away from this second-rate loser,” she slurs.

“Whatever,” Michael mutters. “She’s just a dumb slut anyways.”

“Shut up,” I snap as Tuesday leans against me. “You were just trying to fuck her, and now that you realize she never wanted you, now she’s a slut? Go fuck yourself, dick.”

“How are you going to feel when this tour ends and you never get to play your songs again?” Michael smirks. “She might be able to get away with it now, but it won’t last. Whores never do.”

Sighing, I drop Tuesday on the couch I was just sitting on. She looks up at me through half-closed eyes, confusion on her face.

“Do you want to get your ass kicked?” I stand in front of him. “I have no problem doing it right here.”

“And risk your guitar-playing hand?” Michael laughs. “I’d love to watch that happen.” He pushes to his feet. “Do you really want to do this over that dumb bitch?” He nods to her.

I swing before I can even think about it. My fist connects with his cheek.