Perfect Distraction | James Hetfield

Chapter 8

The air in the bar was stuffy, just like outside. There's been a storm brewing in L.A. since we left the studio, and the humidity was starting to become too heavy. We all walked in and found the only empty booth, the group of us fitting into it with some squishing. I'd managed to squeeze onto the end, giving myself enough room to avoid touching Lars' leg next to mine.

"Squeeze closer sweetheart," Lars made a kissy face and winked, "I don't bite...hard."

Laughter burst out my chest, I was just tipsy enough to find that kind of talk from him funny. And I knew Lars was tipsy by his overuse of his favourite pet name for me.

Sweetheart.

He meant nothing by it, he was blessed to be a naturally flirty person, and it was fun to play along sometimes. But tonight it was getting a bit heated admittedly.

This was the fourth bar we'd gone to, and by far it was the smallest. People were pushed up against each other trying to get served, the music was blaring out the speakers and the light was non-existent. It was the perfect dive bar for celebrating the boys finally being free of Lars and his drum tracking.

Bob was stood at the end of table, refusing to squeeze himself next to Jason and Vinnie, checking his watch over and over.

"You know what guys?" he rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, "Don't bother coming in tomorrow. None of you are gonna be in the right mood for tracking after tonight."

"What do you mean, man? Sometimes hangovers improve my solos!" Kirk was beyond tipsy as he demonstrated his air guitar skills and best Gene Simmons impression.

Bob said nothing, blinked, and then let out a heavy tired sigh. He was clearly done for the evening and ready to leave.

"Listen, remember to tell James not to come in tomorrow whenever he comes back with the drinks." He pointed a finger at all of us, then fought his way out of the crowded bar.

I cursed myself for looking through the crowd for James, who'd gone up to get the round in. The excitement for our car ride home was keeping me on edge. The promise of ecstasy dangled in front of me, just out of reach.

"Man, it feels like forever since we've been in here so late!" Kirk sarcastically started the conversation.

I caught Jason's eye and we both stifled a laugh. Luckily the music was loud enough to cover whatever came out of us.

"You all should be thanking me." Lars gestured around the table, "I've been paying for every round tonight and providing you all with delicious liquor, whenever James gets back from talking to that hot-ass chick."

I almost gave myself whiplash from looking over to the bar to find him. Lars wasn't playing, there really was a hot-ass chick over there with James.

I thought my first feeling would be pure jealousy, but I couldn't fault James for talking to her for a few reasons. The first being that this mystery woman was all kinds of beautiful. Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, figure hugging jeans that showed off her curves and a smile that would dazzle any man, or woman in this case.

The second being that I had no say in what he got up to. There was nothing official between us, hell, we hadn't even talked about it outrightly to each other. We were tiptoeing around the subject to avoid any awkwardness. We both knew it was unprofessional and that Bob would be disappointed, so we brushed it under the rug until it became a bigger problem.

But there was a pang of hurt through my chest remembering how he'd been the whole evening. He'd been watching me with hunger, and it got more intense with every drink he consumed. He'd always be walking beside me and bringing my knuckles to his soft lips whenever we found ourselves at the back of the group. If we were sat next to each other, he'd brush his fingers against my thigh under the table. He'd gotten drunk way quicker than the rest of us so he was getting cocky with his hands, and apparently not just with me.