Manaconda 2: The Second Coming(26)
“I doubt the 911 situation has anything to do with my dick. What’s up?”
“Scroll through your messages every once in awhile, huh?”
“Can’t do that right now, I’m talking to your idiot ass.”
“We got Fallon.”
“What?” My smile slid away. “You’re messing with me.”
Noah’s eyebrow quirked.
“Nope. Monday night. Of course they tape in the day. So, you can see why we have been texting you like crazy.”
“Yeah. No, totally.” I paced the length of my kitchen. “What time?”
“Rehearsal is at one, so we have a six o’clock flight.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. Since you weren’t around we talked it over and decided to do ‘Cathedrals’ and ‘Rusted Armor’ for the bonus content on their site.”
“Sure. That sounds good.” We’d been playing “Rusted Armor” the last few acoustic shows. It was one of our biggest hits from our first album, and people seemed to like the stripped down version.
“Holy fuck.”
Wyatt laughed. “I know, man. We’ve been dreaming about going to The Tonight Show. All that’s left is Saturday Night Live.”
“Dude. Don’t even joke.”
“Rest up. Give the Manaconda a break, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
Wyatt just laughed and hung up.
Noah gave me an expectant look. When I just grinned back at him he shook his head. “What?”
“Hunter?”
I turned to Kenny’s voice. She was wearing my shirt and those damn shorts. “Get over here.”
She yawned and gathered her hair up, putting it up with the hair tie she always seemed to have on her wrist. “What’s up? Midnight snack run?”
I held out my arm. “Much better.”
She curled in against my side. “You’re in an exceptionally good mood. Hi, Noah.”
Noah nodded. “Kenny.”
“That was Wyatt. They’ve been trying to get a hold of me all day.”
“Uh oh. I told you we shouldn’t have turned off our phones.”
I rolled my eyes. “Between you checking social media for you one billion clients, and my band who doesn’t know how to leave me alone, we never get any peace.”
She shrugged. “That’s our life, pal.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. Well, as usual, turning off the world, I missed out on something.”
She slid away from me and opened the fridge. “Good or bad?”
“Skip the juice,” Noah said.
“Ass.”
“Backwash.”
Kenny scrunched up her nose and pulled out a bottle of water.
I grabbed her and swung her around before depositing her on the counter. She gripped my forearms. “Whoa. What the heck happened while we were…busy?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Before I get gray here, huh?”
“Too late.”
“Blond hair, asshole. Not gray.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Noah frowned and touched his temples. “Blond,” he said firmly.
I snorted. “We got The Tonight Show.”
Kenny’s face lit up. “Oh, my God. That’s amazing.” She dragged me closer and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Wow. How? When?”
“We leave tomorrow morning.”
“Try today, bud. It’s already one in the morning.”
“Yeah. Six o’clock flight. Can you two come?”
Noah shrugged. “I’ll have someone cover my shift.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Night.” Kenny waved at my brother.
“Can you come?”
She nodded. “I’ll work it out with Carter.”
“Thank God. I want you there with me.” Excitement bubbled under my skin. We’d had one shot at going on The Tonight show back when it had been Jay Leno, but we’d been bumped for Robert Downey Jr. during the Iron Man craze.
Things never seemed to line up after that. Between tours and the fluctuation of our level of fame over the years, it never happened again. Now, for the first time, that stupid magazine had done something for us as a band.
I wrapped her legs around my waist. “Since we have to get up three hours, I suppose I should take you back to bed.”
“That would be the prudent thing to do.”
My cock hardened as the seam of her cutoffs rubbed against me. “Three hours of sleep isn’t really worth mentioning is it?”
She bit my lower lip. “We can sleep on the plane.”
“I love the way you think.” I hiked her up higher, tossed her over my shoulder, then took the stairs.
“Hunter!”
I brought my hand down on her ass. “Don’t wiggle.”