The Fiery Boys (A Sample)

"What about the rest of you? Have you had a tumble with the hot Inferna?"

Gabe shook his head. "Not me. I'm eternally amused by her outfits, but I'd never drop my pants anywhere near her." Aha! A rocker who was concerned about sexually transmitted diseases. How downright sensible.

Buck emerged from the back with a six-pack of beer and some bottles of soda. He set some of the drinks on the table while he dealt out the rest: beer for himself, another for me, and a soda for Gabe.

I took a sip. "What about you, Buck? Have you jumped the angry Inferna?" I wondered whether two angry people would make a good couple, or just a recipe for pain.

He winced and shook his head. "Not a chance." Make that two sensible rockers. Buck focused his attention on the bottle of beer and quickly finished it off.

As he opened his next bottle, I tried another approach. "I loved your music for 'Seattle Summer.'" That movie had been quite popular a few years ago, and I was surprised when I realized that he had written the music.

Buck raised an expressionless face at me and stared for a few seconds. Finally, he dropped his head and muttered, "Thanks." Still too much fan girl? This guy really hated praise.

Soon, River came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. I felt a sliver of excitement seeing my favorite musician nearly naked and standing so close. I wanted to give him a hug and maybe something else. Instead, I held back and tried to treat him normally. "You really love those drums, River." I didn't want to hear what he thought of Inferna.

River pulled up a chair and sat at the table, giving me a nod. "Yep." This rocker really didn't have much to say.

Buck handed him a bottle of soda water and started to work on his third beer. Gabe got up and headed for the shower.

I decided to venture back into conversation with the silent member of the band. "Soda water, River? I thought you were a beer drinker." Years ago, he did a series of beer ads. One particularly memorable picture showed him with a bottle in each hand, eyeing them thirstily. That's why they called him the hard-drinking drummer.

River shook his head with a partial grin. "I'm trying to cut back." He picked up the water bottle and swallowed a huge gulp.

I turned back to Buck. "When do you get to take a shower?" I may have wiggled an eyebrow at the notion of Buck in a shower. But as soon as I'd done it, I realized it was exactly the sort of groupie-level thing he hated.