String Me Along (Learning to Love Series), page 14
He took another step, until he was only a foot or two away, towering over me. “I could do it. I don’t use mine all that often anymore, but I have one.”
He picked up my notebook, avoiding me when I tried to snatch it first. He perused my lyrics, his face betraying nothing. “I also think it’d benefit from drawing out the last word of the chorus.”
I didn’t move, not liking the way he was stepping into my business and taking over my song like he knew it better than I did. Even as my fingers itched to try out his suggestion.
He tossed my notebook back down, nodding to himself, and reached toward me, motioning to my guitar.
“Here, I’ll show you what I mean.”
I lurched back, yanking it out of his reach and smacking my spine on the unforgiving metal of the bench. “Touch my guitar, and I swear I’ll jam it into your balls, Waters.”
He scoffed, placing his hands back on his hips and rolling his eyes to the sky. “Jesus, help me. I know how to handle a guitar, Davis. I’m not going to drop it.”
“I’m aware.”
“So?”
I raised my brows. Someone had his arrogance pants on today. “So, just because you know how to use one doesn’t mean I trust you with mine. And besides,” I snapped, “I don’t need you telling me how to play my own songs.”
His features changed at that, hardening into something sharp and guarded. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do anything, I was just offering advice. You know, like how we agreed to?”
Angry for reasons I didn’t quite understand, I shot up straight, darting out a hand to stop my guitar from sliding off my lap. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt like lashing out at him. All I knew was that I’d started getting a weird tightening in my chest the second he came into view, and I wanted it to go away.
I wanted to feel in control again, and being around Adrian was starting to make me feel like I no longer had any left at all.
“Correction, we agreed to accept advice from each other when it came to our shows, but since this song is one of my own and has nothing to do with you, I’m under no obligation to listen.”
Something flashed across his eyes before he blinked it away, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought it was hurt. But that couldn’t have been right, because in order for my words to hurt him, Adrian would have to care what I thought about him.
Shaking his head, he took several steps back toward the path. “Unbelievable.”
“What? The truth, or the fact that I pointed it out?”
He made an irritated noise in his throat and ran a hand over his head, brushing back the errant strands. “Do you even know how to let anyone in, or are you simply content to be your only source of company for the rest of your life?”
He shook his head again, and that feeling in my chest worsened. “I don’t know when you got it into your head that I’m out to get you, but I’m not.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, putting a finger to my chin and pretending to think, “was it when you ignored me to my face and accused me of trying to sleep with you?”
He flinched, but I kept going, flicking the same finger up in the air. “Oh, no, I got it. Maybe when you took money from my pocket without even having the backbone to talk to me first?”
I dropped my hand and smacked it on the body of my guitar, the echo ringing out like a curse. “Or maybe when you and my agent practically blackmailed me with losing even more income unless I agreed to play with you? Take your pick, Waters.”
His nostrils flared, and for a moment, I thought he might actually yell back at me. But he didn’t. “You know, for someone who doesn’t know everything, you sure enjoy acting like you do.”
I faltered for a moment. That was the second time he’d hinted that there’d been something going on that first night we met. Something that had set off all the other events.
But I was too worked up to listen. I didn’t want him to have a solid reason for everything that had happened between us because then I’d have to rethink what I thought I knew about him. And admit that maybe I was wrong.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “I know enough.”
He sucked on his front teeth and nodded, looking away from me. But I didn’t fail to catch the look of disappointment on his face as he did.
“Yeah, all right, Davis,” he said, walking the rest of the way onto the path and taking his earbuds back out. “See you around.” And then he was gone.
I watched him jog off, half expecting him to glance back over his shoulder at me. But he didn’t. And he didn’t come back around again either.
Later that evening, when I was curled up on my bed, staring blankly at my lyrics and playing the encounter out in my head over and over again, two things were abundantly clear to me.
The first was that my song did sound better with the drawn-out chorus. And the second was that I couldn’t wipe the disappointed look on his face out of my head.
And that maybe, just maybe, he might not deserve my hatred.
Chapter Fourteen
I stared at the plastic, golden crown nestled in navy tissue paper and then up at my friend, who was wearing an outrageously large grin.
“Is there any specific reason you’re giving me a bachelorette crown?” I asked, trying not to embed the plastic into my hands from how hard I was gripping it.
There’s no way Garrett already asked her to marry him, and if he did, no way she’d have been able to hide her giddiness from me a single day, let alone several, while she’d gone shopping for a crown.
If possible, her smile widened. “It’s not a bachelorette crown, you weirdo. It’s a birthday crown!” she said, giving me something like jazz fingers and laughing.
I glanced back down at it, relief filling my entire chest cavity at her answer. Thank God. As much as I knew a marriage was coming eventually, I couldn’t imagine either of them being ready to take that step this soon. Which was fine by me because I wasn’t even remotely close to being ready to find a new place yet.
Grabbing the crown by the little combs at the end, I lifted it from its bed of tissue, eyeing Madison over the gaudy top. “My deepest apologies. Is there a reason you’ve handed me a birthday crown?”
Her smile dropped into a mock glare, and she reached out and swiped the crown from my grasp, balancing it on top of my head. “I may not always remember what day of the week it is from lack of sleep, but I know when my best friend’s birthday is, woman.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure you can’t even remember your own name these days,” I said, dodging her responding slap and laughing. Then I laughed harder when she had no verbal argument against it.
She circled around the bar, into the kitchen, and grabbed an apple from the counter. “Thank you, Madison, I’m so glad to have a friend like you, Madison,” she singsonged, overexaggerating my voice.
I plopped onto the stool across from her, stealing the apple from her hand the second she’d finished washing it. She glared at me, but knowing Jamie was close enough to hear her curse, she made do with flipping me off and grabbing another.
“Anyway,” she said, coming back to lean against the bar next to me, “since I have no intention of staying out late on a Monday when your actual birthday is, I made plans for us tonight.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to chew quickly without biting a chunk out of my cheek in the process. “Tonight? But I thought you said you and Garrett were having a movie marathon tonight.”
“Yep, I know,” she said, popping the ‘p’ and grinning evilly at me. “I lied. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. Must be an age thing. Brain stops working as well once you get to a certain age.”
I gave her a deadpanned look which only earned me an unattractive snort as she cackled. “If that’s true, what does it say about you?”
“Why do you think I can’t remember my name anymore?” she said, taking a giant bite of her own apple and shoving away from the bar. Stepping over Rugpants, who was aimlessly following her in the hopes she’d drop her food, Madison headed toward the hallway, talking over her shoulder.
“Go get ready and make it quick. I’m going to drop off Jamie at my parents’, and then I’ll swing by to pick you up to meet everyone.”
Wait, what?
“Who’s everyone?” Now that she mentioned it, I realized Garrett hadn’t come over to see her yet like he usually did before he went home to shower. But even he was only one person.
She just moseyed into Jamie’s room, singing, “You’ll see,” in a way that had me more nervous than anything.
“Nope, not happening.”
She gaped at me; Jeep keys held aloft over her purse. “What do you mean? You always pick Jemmy’s.”
I fidgeted, ashamed to tell her that I was technically supposed to be playing at Jemmy’s tonight with Adrian, up until I’d canceled on him a few days ago.
I did it out of pure selfishness to avoid the inevitable embarrassment I’d feel at seeing him again after my snappy attitude at the park. I rarely regretted my harsh tongue, but there was something about the look he’d given me before he’d run off that had me simmering with regret.
Not that canceling helped at all, since I’d felt just as much embarrassment afterward when I thought of all the lectures I’d given him about taking gigs away from me.
Ugh. I put my face in my hands, hating myself just a little, and my godawful pride a lot.
“Layla?”
“Because Adrian’s performing here tonight,” I muttered into my palms, sliding them down to cup my chin and stare out the windshield to the parking lot. I didn’t even know what kind of car Adrian drove. I hadn’t even thought about glancing outside my house to see the day he’d come over for practice.
For some reason I pictured him as a motorcycle type of man. Or maybe a Mini Cooper. I huffed a laugh at the image of him tucking his long-ass legs into one like a praying mantis in a nutshell.
Madison dropped her keys inside her purse and pulled out her phone, all the while looking at me like I’d lost one too many marbles. “Okay, so Adrian’s playing tonight. And…”
“And he kind of hates me now,” I finished for her, knowing she wouldn’t understand why. I’d opted not to tell her about the park, nor of the singular “k” Adrian had sent in reply to my cancelation text.
Because let’s face it, everyone knew that “k” was the texting equivalence to when a woman said she was “fine.” Adrian was, in fact, not fine with me canceling.
The last thing I needed was Adrian seeing me strut my ass into the bar after that. Rule number one when playing hooky was to make sure you didn’t get caught playing said hooky. If he could recognize me in a ballcap, squeezed between drunk people, there was no way I’d be able to hide from him looking like a fucking snack in my silver, sequin dress.
Madison twisted in her seat, fully facing me and cocking an eyebrow in a what the hell haven’t you told me way. “I thought you two were getting along and working together now?”
I cringed. Getting along might have been a stretch, but whatever we’d been, I doubted we were still there now. “We had a fight.” I paused and sighed. “That’s not true. I ran into him at the park and I was kind of…”
“Kind of what?” she asked, her eyes wide and brows high, like she was nervous of whatever I was about to say. As if she thought he’d caught me running around butt-ass naked or something.
“A bitch.”
“Oh.”
I narrowed my eyes. She’d said “oh” like I’d just told her I’d been kind of sitting, or breathing, or something else normal. Like being bitchy was just part of who I was.
She continued staring at me, her eyes asking, “Have you met you?” I shrugged. Touché.
“Let’s just go somewhere else, Mads.”
She glanced over my shoulder, out the window, worrying her bottom lip. “I would, but…”
Banging against my window had me nearly peeing myself, and I twisted sharply, ready to verbally destroy someone for whacking their door against Madison’s Jeep. But instead of a car door, or random stranger, I saw none other than Garrett’s sister-in-law, Sarah, waving her hands.
I looked back at Madison, to see her still biting the shit out of her lip, and caved. There was no part of me that wanted to see Adrian tonight, but it was my own damn fault. Both for being a bitch to him, and for not telling my best friend about it. A friend who had gone out of her way to try to plan a surprise for my birthday.
Was I dreading the evening with every fiber of my being? Absolutely. But I had no one to blame but myself. Consequences of my own actions and all that.
I sighed and picked up my purse, yanking on the handle to open my door and step out. Sarah backed out of the way, her smile looking near painful as she pulled me into a hug the moment I shut the door.
“Happy birthday! I made Harry and Garrett save our table so I could watch for you guys. Hey, Madison!” She pulled Madison into a similar tight hug and then beamed at us, leading the way toward the door.
“When Madison told me this place serves dollar drinks on Fridays, I was already down, but just wait until you see the hunk of a man on stage tonight. Oof.” She fanned her face, “I’d pay five dollars a drink just to look at that eye candy all evening.”
Madison screeched to a stop at the doorway, snagging me by the arm and looking seconds from crying. “I’m sorry, Layla, I didn’t know it’d be a problem. We don’t have to go in. It’s your birthday. I can go tell everyone we’re going somewhere else.”
I smiled at her, thankful to have a friend who loved me as much as she did. “It’s fine, Mads. I’ll live. I’ll just ignore him, I’m quite good at it.” Lie. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been able to ignore Adrian Waters.
Sarah frowned, pulling open the door and letting Madison and me in first. “Who are we avoiding?”
Madison flashed her ID at the check-in, and I nodded at Tony, pointedly not looking toward the stage as Sarah led us past him and through the bar. “The eye candy.”
I knew the second his gaze landed on me. I swore every hair along my entire body stood on end as his eyes tracked me all the way to the table. But still, I didn’t look over at him. Even when his voice and music practically begged me to. I held firm.
I straightened my spine and adjusted the golden crown atop my head. I wasn’t here for him, nor to perform. I was here for my birthday, and I was going to enjoy it.
Garrett and Harry both stood as we approached, the first giving me a half smile and wishing me a happy birthday, while the latter stuck with a quiet nod. I smiled back and took a seat, cringing internally when the act made the deep cut of my dress bare my entire thigh toward the stage.
A line of seven pink shots, each with a puff of whipped cream on top, took up the center of the table, and I eyed them curiously, wondering who the extra shots were for. Because if they expected me to take three shots right off the bat with no food, tonight was about to go south real quick.
I circled my hand in the air over them, crossing my legs and trying in vain to cover a little more of my leg. “So, what’s all this? A drinking game of some kind?”
I aimed my question at Sarah, knowing she’d be the one behind all things alcohol related. Neither Madison nor Garrett were very big drinkers.
“Not yet,” she said, sliding a shot glass in front of each chair, including the two empty ones. “First, a birthday shot. Fran—whom I’ve decided I’m leaving Harry for—said it was cake flavored.”
I grabbed the shot she pushed in front of me and took a sniff. It smelled more like vodka than anything else, but Fran knew their way around a bar and had yet to steer me wrong.
“Who are the other two shots for?” I asked, my mind flipping through the people I knew like a very short, sad stack of cards. There was no way Madison would’ve invited Ken, and her parents currently had Jamie. So, who did that leave?
“Are you cheating on me?”
The yelled accusation carried over Adrian’s music, and I turned, shot glass still in hand, expecting to see some marital spat occurring in the center of the bar. And although there was a ridiculously attractive man stomping through the bar with a heavy glare on his face, he was beelining for our table.
He looked extremely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I knew him from. Another musician I’d seen in passing at a party, maybe?
He had clean-shaven, sharp features and jet-black hair that was slicked back, nearly matching the black jacket he had dangling from one fist. Tattoos covered every inch of his arms down to his wrists, and his green eyes were bright and zeroed in on none other than Madison.
Reaching our table, he pointed at her shot glass and sucked on his front teeth so that they made a loud hissing sound. “And out in public too. Who knew you had it in you, Curly.”
Slowly setting my own glass back on the table, I uncrossed my legs, ready to jump up between them, if necessary. Madison, however, didn’t seem fazed in the least by his accusation.
She tossed her curls over her shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes. “I take my pleasure where I can find it.” Then she ran her tongue over the dollop of whipped cream and tipped her glass back, downing her shot. Her eyelashes continued to flutter, now more to blink back tears from the burn than flirting.
I glanced at Garrett, worried we were about to have a dead body on the floor, but he hadn’t moved from his place beside her. Except to place his hand very, very high up on her thigh as he watched her lick a smear of whipped cream from her lip.
O-kay then.
The newcomer slapped a hand to his chest, feigning hurt rather than anger now. “I’ll remember that the next time you want a drink after work.” Madison only winked at him and laughed. And then those green eyes popped over to me. “I hear a happy birthday is in order, Blue.”
I pressed my lips together and gave him several exaggerated blinks. The man was hot, but I wasn’t much of a fan of nicknames from random men in bars. “Should I know you?” I finally asked, drumming my fingers across the tabletop in a way that reminded me of Adrian, who was currently singing a slow ballad. I was tempted to look up on stage, but somehow refrained.
