Page 48 of The Twisted Beats

“Thanks, mate. And take your time. I’m sure I can find plenty to do.” I stride toward the kitchen.

My stomach growls. I rummage through the fridge for a drink and something to eat.

It’s not unusual for Mr. and Mrs. Hemings to leave their kids alone for a night or two, so I’m not surprised they’re out of town. I’m astonished that they left right as Lily and I started dating.

A house manager stops by to check on Bren and Livianna, but he never comes by after dinner. Maybe their parents don’t know that part. That, or they must trust us alone together.

I wouldn’t if I were them, but I’m not gonna call them and tell them to come back because there’s a possibility I might try something with their daughter once she gets home. That’s just idiotic.

I blare rock music through the stereo speakers in the kitchen as I make myself a sandwich and sip on a beer. I’m pumped Bren and I settled on our band’s name.

Having a name makes it real. And when Bren can actually visualize something, he works his ass off to hit the goal.

Mayhem.

Fuck, it’s perfect. I nod as a smile grows. This is the beginning of something great.

I sit at the counter and listen to the riffs and melodies in the different songs pouring out. I don’t like to pay attention to the lyrics, though.

No, those come frommysoul. I don’t need to hear something someone else put together.

My songs are a piece of me. They have meaning. Every single one of them, and I have thousands written in a notebook. Nobody has ever heard them, but that’s about to change.

Once I’m finished eating, I grab my drink and retreat to the basement. I have some ideas swirling in my mind that I wanna test out on the instruments.

I mess around on the piano, then go to the guitar, trying to create a new sound. Nothing hits me hard like it has to be done, but I scribble down any arrangements that have potential.

I get lost in the art and lose track of time. I stare at a bunch of random words and notes I have before me on a stray song sheet I found.

A hand runs over my shoulders. “What are you working on?”

Lily’s seductive voice takes me out of the moment of deep focus. I twist on the stool to face her, pulling her between my thighs when she’s standing before me.

I gaze into her eyes. “We did it, Lily.”

Her grin lights up. “What did you do?”

“We created Mayhem today.”

“Mayhem?” Her expression drops. “If you pulled Bren into some kind of trouble, my dad will have your head. That won’t go over well for?—”

“Mayhem is the name of our rock band.”

She pulls her head back. “What are you talking about?”

“Bren and I skipped out on our recording session and did some brainstorming.” I run my fingertips up her naked thighs.

She’s wearing a bright pink, white, and black plaid schoolgirl-type skirt with white knee-high socks. Her white button-down shirt is tied at the waist and open, exposing her pink bra.

Other than her jet-black hair, she looks like she walked out of Britney Spears’ “Baby One More Time” video.

In a flash, I forget everything as my dick hardens. “Lily, you’re doing it again.”

She narrows her eyes. “What?”

“Killing me with your…sexiness.”

Her cheeks blush. “I thought you only liked rocker chicks.”