That’d be the most preferable outcome. “Or it might mean, I’m doomed to forever screw up halfway through every song.”
Xane shrugged. “We’ll write super short songs.”
Dumb suggestion, which nevertheless made him smile. The only way that would work was if they revolutionised the whole music industry and convinced everyone that one minute thirty was the ideal song length. The prog rockers would be doomed. It was a miracle if any of those buggers managed less than twelve minutes. Long winded bastards.
“How long do you reckon the average fuck takes?” Xane’s brow knotted thoughtfully. “Start to finish including the foreplay and the clean up?”
“What’s average anything?”
“Well, you’re average length.”
“Fuck you.” Ash jerked two fingers up at his friend. “What do you even want to know for? Are you frightened you’re under par?”
“Hardly. I thought I’d try and hit the play time on the new album to exactly the right length, and play around with the pacing of the tracks a bit to get the pounding and the release and such like synched.”
“That’s a pissing awful idea.”
Xane crunched upwards and wrapped an arm around Ash’s torso. His hot breath whispered against the side of Ash’s neck and the top of his shoulder. “So is holding on to a guitarist who can’t play because he’s your mate. But, sometimes we do these things ’cause it feels right. We need you, Ash. The band won’t survive without you, so do whatever the hell it takes to get yourself fixed, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” He’d give it his best. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing precisely that already.
Having spoken, Xane flipped onto his feet. He was already padding away by the time Ash turned his head. “Where are you going?”
Xane’s hair whipped around him as he turned his head, then settled against his back. The ends of the black strands reached past his waist. “To see if I can patch things up with Dani. If you have any sense, you’ll do the same. That woman of yours stuck by you when plenty would have flown. That means she’s worth the effort.”
Actually, he and Ginny hadn’t rowed. They’d merely disagreed over whether he was up to shagging her. Which, he totally was, whether she realised it or not. Either way, he no longer felt there was anything to be gained by sitting out here freezing his tits off, so having collected up the rubbish and brushed the spilled tortillas into the lake—maybe the fish would appreciate them—he followed Xane back to the house.
Soft light still bathed their guestroom. Ginny rolled over in bed when he entered and gave him a tense smile. She didn’t speak, but she drew back the covers so there was a space for him.
Ash shed his shorts and climbed in.
“Jeez, you’re cold. Did you go back outside?”
She spooned herself around him, which didn’t entirely work as he was by far the taller of the pair of them, but he appreciated her efforts to rub some heat back into his limbs. “You should’ve put something on if you wanted a walkabout. Your arse is like an icicle.”
Maybe, but every place she put her hands instantly thawed. “There’s a pretty thick icicle right here that’d appreciate some warming.” He shifted her hand so that it covered his cock.
“Ain’t happening, buster.” She kissed the side of his head. “Time to sleep.”
Ash glowered into the darkness, but he wasn’t nearly as irate over the lack of action as he’d been before his walk. He’d coax her ’round to the idea. She had to be gagging for a good long shag as much as he was, and Ginny was a woman who liked sex. She wouldn’t hold out forever…probably. Tomorrow when she saw he was okay—the hand issues were just something, not the whole of him—then she’d be her normal happy-to-tango-with-him self.
“I don’t actually know if I’ll sleep,” he said, making one last ditch attempt to engage her in something. “It’s so quiet.”
“Blessedly so.” He felt her yawn, heard the near silent bay of it too. “I’m fucking knackered. Sweet dreams, Ashley.”
Maybe the problem here wasn’t so much a matter of his health or possible concerns over his prowess, but that his Ginny Bear was totally cream-crackered. He guessed she hadn’t enjoyed many peaceful nights in recent weeks. A lot of nights, she hadn’t even had a bed, but had stayed beside him propped up in the chair. Therefore, he’d better stop being selfish and let her sleep. Then, maybe he could persuade her to spend a long lazy day in bed with him tomorrow.
