Time And I

Thirty-Nine

What were you supposed to get your eighteen-year-old girlfriend as a gift to say 'Good luck at your first concert with your new band'? Alcohol was not a viable option; it shouldn't have even been on the table. Yet I was holding a paper canister of four craft beers from World Market as Devon smiled cheekily at me.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You know I can't drink this for three years, right?"

"Why not?" He smacked his forehead. "It's root beer. Not actual beer. They wouldn't sell a minor beer."

I inspected one of the bottles. "No, this is actual beer."

"What?" He snatched one of the bottles, read the label, and groaned. "The dude said this was root beer."

I slid the bottles back into the canister and placed it on the coffee table. "It doesn't matter. It's the thought that counts, and I am very grateful for any gift from you." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him softly. "Thank you, hot stuff."

He snickered. "I love how you can say that so genuinely."

"Why would I say if it's not genuine?" I asked, pulling away before slapping his ass. "I find you to be quite attractive."

Devon smirked as he slid up to me. "I find you to be the real hot stuff in that outfit." Leather leggings, a short leather jacket, white crop top, and combat boots. He wasn't wrong.

"Oh please. I'm sexy, and you know it."

"When are you not?"

"Are you two done?" Jeanie asked as she walked into the room.

"Not so much fun to hear the words compared to saying them, huh?"

"Shut up," she muttered. Stretching her arms beside herself, she asked, "How do I look? Will I fit in at the club?"

"You look beautiful no matter what you wear," I promised.

"I'm surprised you're going," Devon said. "I thought you didn't want people to know you're related until after Mel moves out?"

"We don't, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a nice concert with a local band. Doesn't mean my new coworkers and I can't go out and see a live band. Doesn't mean I can't live stream the concert to my fans and subtly promote my little sister's work," she cooed, cupping her own cheeks and giggling.

"Do that, and I'll kill you," I deadpanned.

"Why not get some promotional work?"

"Because then my classmates will swarm me about how you were at my concert and ask a million questions about whether I know you or got to meet you, and then people will do more digging and eventually find out we're related." I glared at her. "I don't want death threats because I'm related to you. I want death threats because people are jealous of my incredible drumming and popularity."

"I don't think you should be wanting death threats to begin with," Devon stated. He wrapped his arms around me. "If someone finds out, I'll be there to protect you."

I smirked and snuggled deeper into his arms. "Ooh, like my own bodyguard, huh?"

"Don't go making it kinky," Jeanie demanded.

I dramatically sighed and made a scene of rolling my eyes. "But, Jeanie."

"Shut up," she laughed before facing Devon. "I'm sorry you aren't able to come with."

"It's okay. Brody is going to be recording most of it anyway, so I'm going to see the clips tomorrow at my next meeting."

"Or," Jeanie smirked, "you can see it live via my live stream-"