Lazy Valentines (Lazy Days)

his cheeks and neck as he forced himself to face the owner of the voice.
    He found a thirty-something woman with bright red hair and a baseball cap pulled low on her forehead. "Just ignore these morons. They're still struggling to outgrow their childhood or maybe slipping back into it." She snorted when she was finished and Scott's immediate thoughts were that she was very endearing… and familiar.
    "I've met you somewhere before, haven't I?"
    "Yeah, at one of the gigs backstage. You weren't having such a great day. I'm Charlene, Wolfie's wife."
    Recognition dawned inside Scott's brain along with an extra flash of blush to his cheeks. Oh, that day. The panic attack. "Yes. I never got to thank you for helping me. I was a mess but I remember your kindness." He reached out and patted her arm, surprising even himself with the act of personal contact. Devon squeezed his shoulder in encouragement or support or something that just felt really good.
    "You guys gonna come sit?" Wolfie asked, sliding an arm around Charlene's waist only to have it smacked away. He dipped his head and grunted.
    Devon urged Scott forward. "You in the doghouse again, Wolf?"
    Charlene pushed herself in front of Wolfie. "Bastard was supposed to be at Charley's ballet recital yesterday but he never made it."
    "I was at the studio. You know how I get lost when I'm writing."
    "Tell that to your five year-old daughter, dumbass."
    Scott liked Charlene more and more. "You have kids?"
    "Yeah, Charley and one on the way."
    "But you don't look—"
    "Only a couple months along, too early to show. Don't think we even told the guys yet."
    "Well, congratulations."
    "Thanks. Hey, Dev. Cat got your tongue or are you reconsidering letting us play with Scott?"
    Scott wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. He forced his voice to stay even and controlled. "Play?"
    "That's just how she talks," Wolfie said. "You'll get used to it. He is pretty quiet though. You okay, Dev?"
    Devon's smile was lazy and real. "Just taking it all in, guys."
    Scott shifted his head to look into his eyes. He could go along with the fun and it was surprisingly kind of fun… so far. "You ready to share your toys, Devastation?"
    Devon laughed and Scott felt the soft press of lips to the base of his skull. "Only if I get to take you home after."
    "Always," Scott whispered as Wolfie looked uncomfortably away and Charlene took one of his hands in hers.
    "Come on. Let me introduce you to the others." She smirked behind her shoulder. "You can come too, Dev."
    Scott thought she was just about perfect.
    *****
    Devastation, Wolfie, Shadow, Bull and Slide.
    Scott didn't know where Smoky Grey had come up with their nicknames but they were over-the-top strange yet fairly easy to remember. Of course he hadn't actually met Shadow but he assumed he was the man sitting by the wall with the cellphone attached to his ear. Devon had spoken about going to Shadow's wife's funeral and Scott really wished he could have helped Devon through it since he knew they'd been friends for a long time. Scott had seen the compassion in Devon's face when he'd hugged Shadow that night after the concert, pain and empathy written all over his face as he tried to comfort his best friend.
    He couldn't imagine losing someone he loved at such a young age and as far as he could tell Devon had been the main person trying to help get Shadow through his grief. Shadow had also been the one Devon had been hugging when Scott peeked into the dressing room, just before he'd jumped to the totally wrong conclusion and swung hard into a panic attack. Thinking back to the things Devon had hidden and the over-reactions Scott had come up with, it was really a wonder they'd ever got back together. And from what Devon had said, Shadow had a lot to do with that.
    Scott liked Devon's friends, his band. The only non-member was Charlene and she fit in just like one of the boys—the types of boys, men, Scott usually feared being around. He'd been bullied a lot when he was growing up, and sometimes when he was older as well. Unfortunately, the types of guys most likely to have given him a hard time were exactly the sort he was now having coffee and breakfast with on his first Valentine's Day. And yet, he was relaxed.
    He'd always tried not to give in to prejudices but just as he'd been judged for his geeky manner and boring job—not to mention his quirky habits and practices—he'd always judged tougher-looking, rock and roll guys with their long hair