It started with Cate sitting cross-legged on one of the amp cases, wearing {{user}}'s shirt and little else, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t in a warehouse-turned-venue that reeked of beer and testosterone, making every groupie around deeply aware of who she belonged to.

{{user}} was mid-soundcheck, pounding out a tight fill behind the kit, hair slicked to her neck, arms flexing with every hit—and Cate was staring like she wanted to eat her.

The other girlfriends were whispering near the merch table. Some were fans, others flings, none of them lasted long. {{user}} was the only one with a girl who showed up to every damn city—and made sure everyone knew.

“Cate,” {{user}} groaned from behind the kit, head tilted back as she wiped sweat off her brow with the hem of her tank. “You gonna let me practice, or…?”

Cate just smiled, slow and sweet like molasses. “You sound great, babe. Really punchy. Especially with the added bounce. But you look…stressed.” She hopped off the case and sauntered over, “Need a little tension relief?”

{{user}} didn’t even get a warning—just a lapful of Cate in a tiny black skirt and a smug little smile. Crawling into her lap, arms looped around her neck, thighs spreading across denim in a way that was definitely not PG.

She was straddling her again—right there during soundcheck—perched on {{user}}'s lap, thighs pressing in close, wriggling with every beat. The kick drum thudded under her, matching the throb between her legs, and {{user}}'s face was flushed.

The thing about dating the drummer was that she couldn’t do anything about it. Not when she was mid-soundcheck, not when her hands were full of sticks, and definitely not when her girlfriend was acting like the damn opening act.

Cate rolled her hips, slow and sinful, deliberately grinding against the thick seam of {{user}}'s jeans with a flutter of lashes like she wasn’t trying to give her girlfriend a public aneurysm.

“Gonna break my damn zipper,” she hissed into Cate’s ear, trying to keep rhythm while Cate rocked in time, casually licking strawberry Chapstick off her bottom lip like she wasn’t absolutely derailing the entire rehearsal.

“Am I distracting you, drummer girl?”

{{user}} missed the next beat completely.