Fill Me
By Michelle Hazen
“Then I guess you should have built me a drum riser because nobody’s going to be able to see me behind my cymbals.”
Both men ignore me. Jax smacks Danny, knocking his black beanie askew. “Dude. Shirt.”
“What shirt?” Danny pulls off his knit hat, black hair in wild chaos before he tugs the cap back on.
“It was on the list I gave you when I left you my truck so you could load while I was at work.”
Danny wrinkles his nose. “List?”
Jax pales, his blue eyes flaring brighter as he stares down our bassist. “The list with all our equipment on it. Including my good shirt.” He flaps the offending uniform top at Danny, while I stifle a laugh into my fist.
He shrugs. “Play in what you’ve got.”
Jax chucks it in Danny’s face instead. “Nobody sees a brown UPS polo shirt and thinks, ‘Step aside, panties, there’s a rock star in the house.’”
“If you need a shirt to drop panties, man, you better hightail it back to that gym you’re always trying to drag me to,” Danny drawls.
Jax’s jaw twitches and he straightens to his full height, carefully cultivated muscles bunching.
Danny looks bored, his lean body looking just plain skinny beneath the black hoodie and old jeans he threw on before we loaded Jax’s truck.
I step between them because they like a friendly fight a little too much, and last time Jax’s mouth ended up so swollen and bloody he couldn’t sing. No matter how many times I explain it to him, Danny doesn’t get the concept of pulling his punches.
“He’s screwing with you, Jax,” I say. “We have everything on the list, and your shirt is on the front seat. I’ll get it for you if you want to make a little refreshments run.” I nod toward the bar, my eyes flickering past it to the entrance.
Still nothing.
Jax’s hand lands on my arm, squeezing gently. “Was Andy supposed to be here?”
“Nope.” I force a smile, though I can’t wrench my gaze higher than the tribal swirls of the electric guitar tattoo on Jax’s forearm. Somehow, seeing Danny’s artwork settles some of the fizzing in my stomach. “He couldn’t make it.”
“Oh, was Douchefest 2012 tonight?” Danny asks. “Too bad. I know he couldn’t possibly miss that.”
Genre: Romance Books
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Michelle Hazen
Biography.
Michelle Hazen is a nomad with a writing problem. Years ago, she and her husband ducked out of the 9 to 5 world and moved into their truck to become desert tortoise biologists. She found her voice with the support of the online fanfiction community, and once she started typing, she never looked back.
As a result, she has written most of her books in odd places, including a bus in Thailand, an off-the-grid cabin in the Sawtooth Mountains, a golf cart in a sandstorm, a rental car during a heat wave in the Mohave Desert, and a beach in Honduras.
These days, she works as a freelance editor and writing coach with Sanctuary Editorial mostly based out of Idaho, but thanks to the wonders of Wi-Fi, she and her husband are still soaking up inspiration while they travel the country and work along the way.
She’s currently addicted to Shadow and Bone, rock climbing, and Tillamook cheese.
Michelle Hazen
