I smiled at him, tight, so tight it felt strained as I tried to ease the tension out of my shoulders and the fluttering, nervous muscles of my abdomen.
His hair was wet and there was pink to his cheeks as he looked me over. A backpack hung from one of his hands. “Are you mad at me?” he asked in a lowered voice out of the blue.
I felt a stab of guilt at how I’d blatantly avoided him, because that was exactly what I’d done. Then I thought about him and the redhead on the couch and that gross feeling in my stomach flooded my insides once more. Yeah, the guilt didn’t last as long as it should have, but I needed to be an adult and deal with this head-on. It wasn’t his fault I had a crush on him, and he’d never been anything but kind to me. In a way, it was like being prejudiced against him for simply being a great person. He couldn’t help being likable even if I didn’t know how to handle it.
Clearing my throat, I shook my head and kept my focus on his eyes, my features even. “No. Why would I be?” Did that sound as convincing as I hoped?
“You haven’t talked to me at all. Every time I look at you, you look away,” he stated so matter-of-factly I almost reeled.
And, I felt guilty all over again.
I dug deep for those lying skills I’d used so much as a kid to save Eli’s ass and gave Sacha the most honest, remorseful smile possible. “I’m sorry. Everything is fine. I’m not mad at you at all.”
Which was true, technically. I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at myself.
“Are you sure? Because you don’t get mad very easily, and if I—”
Here he was, blaming himself. Good lord.
I’d never stood a chance, had I?
How could I not like Sacha? I wasn’t blind or deaf. He was unbelievably attractive, sweet and just plain goofy. Reminding myself why I liked him wasn’t helping the situation any.
Before he could carve a bigger chunk of attraction out of my soul, I shook my head. “You didn’t. We’re fine. I just wasn’t feeling well, and I was…” I hesitated for a split second before I figured “screw it.” Sacha said he had older sisters; it wasn’t like he didn’t know women had periods. “I was on my period.”
The fact he didn’t even blink at the p-word was impressive. All he did was nod before a small, unsure smile crossed his features. “Sure?”
I nodded.
His expression was only slightly wary. “I’m glad we’re okay, then.”
This stupid frog had crawled into my throat and all I could manage to do was nod.
Then he reached forward and tapped my elbow with his free hand, the corners of his mouth growing wider. “I’ve missed talking to you.”
Good gracious. I shook my head and in a slightly weird voice, said, “I missed talking to you too.”
“It’s been pretty boring without you,” Sacha added, the sentiment obvious by the creases at the corners of his eyes.
A small smile crossed my face, and I shrugged even as my insides went all wonky. I didn’t know why I felt so… hopeless, but I did. I wanted to absorb his words and take them to heart, but a larger part of me didn’t want that. What was the point? I filled a void as his friend. Keyword: friend.
As much as I wanted to be levelheaded about it and take what I could get, it wasn’t easy for me. My mom had always said that I took things to heart, that I felt too much. Once I got my mind set on something, if I couldn’t have it, then I didn’t want anything else to try and replace it.
Eli happened to yell my name from the living area right then, so I flashed Sacha a smile before making my way toward my twin. When I’d barely passed him, he grabbed ahold of my forearm to stop me.
“I really did miss talking to you.”
I nodded at him, not trusting the rusty, unsure words on the tip of my tongue. I needed to change the subject right then. I needed to try and be a better friend. “Let me know the next time you want to go for a run, okay?”
“You got it.”
Well, if there was one thing I knew how to be, it was someone’s friend. I could do it.
I could.
Chapter Twelve
Carter and I high-fived each other the moment we finished loading up our bins onto the dolly. Tonight had been the last show of the North American tour in Philadelphia, and we were all in a great mood. Ghost Orchid had sold close to five grand in merch, which meant I'd made five hundred dollars. I couldn’t believe it.
Something else I couldn’t wrap my head around: how much money Carter had possibly made, considering his line was usually twice as long as mine. It must have been enough that my quiet, pensive friend was grinning from ear to ear, and he’d given me three side-hugs in the time we’d torn down our setup.
Part One of the Rhythm & Chord Tour was over.
It didn't matter that I'd been tired and restless lately, and over the last few days hornier than a virgin reading erotica since I hadn't had any privacy; I was relieved and excited that this leg of touring was complete. And I had money. I'd spent so little over the last six weeks because we really never did much. If the venue didn't cater, the money I got from buy-outs was more than enough for me to buy lunch and groceries for breakfast and dinner.
We were going to have three days off between tonight and when we left for Australia.
Australia. I was finally going, and I was pretty damn excited.
"Do you want to go shower while I load up?" Carter asked as we passed by the back area where the dressing rooms were.
The venue was one of the few that had showers, and we'd all agreed to get cleaned up before we got on the bus. The Cloud Collision’s record label was stationed in Philadelphia and they were throwing an end-of -tour party/delayed CD release celebration at a club for them. I wasn't much of a partygoer, but everyone was going.
"Sure. Hurry and I'll save the shower for you," I told him, and he nodded in agreement.
I grabbed my backpack and ran over to the two separate bathrooms that each had a shower stall inside. Only one of the two doors was closed, so I darted through the empty doorway and stripped, showering and shaving as quickly as possible. I slipped on the dark purple dress I'd bought that afternoon after Eli so eloquently told me that I couldn't go out dressed like a hobo. I put on some make-up, twisted my wet hair over one shoulder, put all my stuff back into my bag, and peeped my head out of the bathroom to find that Carter was sitting on the floor right outside, with Julian and Isaiah standing about five feet away in the middle of a conversation.
"Your turn, bud," I told my newly bald friend.
He grinned at me, the piercing on his bottom lip winking at me as he jumped up, stealthy like a cat, and slid into the bathroom at the same time I slipped out. Julian had apparently still not forgiven me for the Brandon thing so I wasn’t surprised when he looked at me with zero emotion. Isaiah on the other hand.... I pulled my dress down even as I smiled at him. The material was riding up my legs so much when I walked that I wondered how slim my chances were that I wouldn't show off my green underwear at some point. The problem had been that I’d only had twenty minutes to shop before I had to head back to the venue, and the choices hadn’t been that great: too much cleavage or possible crotch-shots. Look like a hooker or look like a hooker.
I went with the latter.
The fourth person I saw on my way out was my brother, who was already dressed and typing on his phone. He happened to glance up, and glanced back down for a second before he looked up again.
"What the fuck, Flabby? You working the corner tonight, or what?" he cried, pointing at my dress.
"Shut your mouth," I groaned. He did this every single time I wore something that was more than two inches above my knee.
Eli glared at me a second longer before he rolled his eyes and went back to playing with his phone. Just as I started to walk away, he called out after me. "If you make any money tonight, I'm taking a cut!"
I flicked him off and got on the practically empty bus. The sound guy for TCC was inside and so was Miles. Things were still a little awkward
between us since the Pickle Dick incident. While we'd only spoken a handful of words since the tour started, he was still giving me funny faces on top of the silence. I understood he was friends with Brandon, but the dumb fuck had thought it would be a good idea to go to a concert where his ex-girlfriend's psychotic brother was playing. Really, he had it coming.
Wanting to avoid the weird looks, I made my way to the back room and planted myself on the long couch with a book I'd stashed in one of the cupboards.
Carter came in a few minutes later dressed in gray skinny jeans and a button-up white shirt that he’d picked up that afternoon too. He smiled at me and sat down in the seat to the right.
“You look nice,” I commented, earning a blush from him.
Mason came in next. His eyes were down, and his black pants and shirt were completely unbuttoned to the point I couldn't understand how his clothes were still on. "Hey man, can I borrow—.” My longtime friend looked up and stopped talking. He blinked those big, blue eyes at me.
My face flushed when he didn't say anything for too long. "What is it?"
Mason turned to glance at Carter. "Get out and lock the door."
I couldn't help but laugh, kicking my foot out at him. "Quit it."
"Seriously. Flabby," he said, staring at my legs, "when are we getting married?”
My face warmed up again, but all I did was groan in response.
He looked at me for a minute longer before shaking his head and asking Carter if he had an extra belt. I hung out with Carter in the back while the bus made its way to the club. In no time at all, it came to a stop and I could hear everyone in the front getting off. Slipping on the short, black wedge heels I had scored that afternoon as well, I followed after my buddy to see that we were stopped in the fire lane at some place called The Magic Carpet. There was a line of people standing outside; I spotted Eli and Gordo bypassing the line and making their way into the club. Following in their direction, the bouncer just waved Carter and me inside without checking our IDs.
The club wasn't at all what I was expecting. For one thing, bouncy eighties music was playing. Instead of some dark, dingy place that definitely had dry sperm contaminating every nook and cranny, the walls were dark red, the furniture a contemporary black and gray scattered about the edges of the floor. The bar had some neon lights lining the stools, the counter and the shelves where the bottles were placed. Then there was the dance floor, which was the coolest dance floor I had ever seen in my life. The atmosphere was fun and clean.
Carter elbowed me when “Eye of the Tiger” came over the speakers. He made a face and gestured toward the bar with his head. I nodded and followed after him. “What do you want to drink?” he half gestured, half yelled. It’d only been four days since Mase and I drank my bottle of wine, and apparently I’d forgotten my vow to never drink again.
“Long Island Iced Tea,” I mouthed back at him.
He nodded right before disappearing into the crush surrounding the bar.
I stood there, tapping my foot and humming along to the loud, ageless song playing through the speakers. Off to one corner were a few of The Cloud Collision’s guys already talking to a group of girls sitting at a table. But no Sacha. Not that I was looking. This whole playing it cool and getting over a crush was going okay. If I just sucked it up, smiled and reminded myself there were plenty of other men in the world to have crushes on, it went easily. Sacha and I had even gone for a run in Toronto with a silent, broody Julian, and had lunch the day before in New Jersey. Needless to say, I was proud of myself for trying to be a good friend.
I kept on looking around, putting the Russian out of my head. The two soul mates, Eli and Mase, were nowhere to be found. Carter was back before I knew it, with a small clear glass in one hand, and a larger glass in another, holding it out in my direction.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to him.
We stood there for a few minutes, and he walked around with me until we found a small, unoccupied table close the bathrooms. We sat there, sipping on our drinks for a couple of songs before I spotted Eli cutting through the mass of bodies on the LED dance floor and heading straight toward us.
He was holding his hands out in front of him, pretty much dangling his tongue out of his mouth while making the dumbest face I'd ever seen—his normal one. To top it off he was shimmying his shoulders.
I was already laughing by the time he made it to the table, and I slid off the seat, knowing it was pointless to fight with him. Turning to Carter, I held my hand out in his direction. “Come on!” I yelled with a big grin.
He shook his head.
“You sure?” I asked still practically screaming.
He gave me a thumbs-up with a smile.
Carter had already mentioned to me that he had an allergy to dancing, so I wasn’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to. I hated when people did that to me. I gave him an “if you say so” shrug and followed Eli’s big butt out to the floor.
Eliza started tutting—Egyptian-like dance moves—when we stopped in the middle of the floor with “Walk Like an Egyptian” blaring over the speakers. I mirrored his moves, laughing my ass off the entire time. One song turned into four while we danced in front of each other, our moves getting more and more outrageous as the eighties songs kept coming. The half of a drink I had guzzled probably helped.
I couldn't help but wonder why the hell TCC’s record label had brought them to an eighties club, but I didn't care. I loved dancing, but only when I could act like an uninhibited idiot without worrying about everyone judging me. The next thing I knew, Mason booty-bumped me from behind before backing his ass up into my stomach for a few songs.
I pushed Mason out of the way when he started trying to sandwich himself between me and some random brunette on the dance floor. A hand brushed my ass as I wiggled my way through the crowd, and I whacked it away the second it came in contact with me. I'd barely stepped off the floor when I saw Sacha in… oh merciful God. Of all the things in the world he had to wear… He had on suspenders—suspenders!—over a shirt that was somewhere between pink and purple, and slim black jeans. He stood a few feet away facing the dance floor, talking to a shorter man with glasses.
TCC’s singer smiled the second he realized I spotted him and waved me over. The thought of pretending I hadn’t seen him didn’t occur to me. We were friends and friends didn’t ignore each other, I told myself, even as his eyes swept across my frame as I walked toward him. Yeah, I tugged my dress down.
"Gaby," he breathed into my ear when I stopped next to him. His hand reached out to land on the small of my back, and I had to fight the urge to react.
Good lord, was I that starved for attention I was getting excited over having a hand on the small of my back?
Yes. Yes, I was.
"Hi," the smaller man spat out in a shout.
I waved at the stranger and held out my hand to him. "Hi, I'm Gaby."
“Dennis, beautiful!” He shook my hand for a second too long and smiled, all small, flat white teeth out to say hello.
I'd gone months without a single freaking compliment, but now I dressed like a prostitute and suddenly everyone was appreciative of me. Oh fucking well. I would take what I could get. "It’s nice to meet you!" I hollered with a big grin.
"Is this your girlfriend, Malykhin?” Dennis asked. At least that’s what I think he asked but all I could do was wonder if I’d heard him correctly or if I was imagining it.
Before I could process the question that had come out of the small man’s mouth, Sacha’s fingers curled over my hip. "Not yet! I'm going to take her out to dance. I’ll see you later, okay?" Sacha yelled at him, leaning forward.
Now, I could have freaked out. I could have. But I didn’t. Mostly because I’d done this dance a hundred other times with Mason and Gordo. Whether it was to get them out of some other girl’s—or in Gordo’s case, guy’s—clutches or to get them away from someone they didn’t want to talk to, I’d been a wing-man, a scapegoat and a
girlfriend without batting an eyelash. So, yeah. I knew my place in that moment. I was helping Sacha escape and I told myself it wasn’t a big deal.
Friends. Friends. Right. I moved on mentally.
The little man nodded before winking at me.
My friend's hand pressed into my back, leading me toward the dance floor. As soon as we were about ten feet away, he lowered his mouth next to my ear. "I don't know how to dance." His breath washed hot against my skin. "That was our record label owner. He’d been talking to me for the last hour and I couldn’t handle it anymore."
"I feel used, Sassy," I teased him, fighting back the disappointment stirring my gut. Scapegoat for the win. All right.
Sacha shook his head, the multi-colored strobe lights illuminating the sides of his short, short hair. "Never. If I pawn you off on him, then it’ll be a different story." He tipped his chin down with a sweet grin that went straight to me knees, confirming the fact that I was a weak and pathetic person with no backbone when it came to this singer. “But I wouldn’t do that.”
“I hope!” I grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the middle of the crowd where we could be away from anyone in our large group. “You really don’t know how to dance?” I had to go up on my tippy toes and he had to lean down for me to speak into his ear.
He confirmed it. “No!”
I shrugged at him. “Who cares! I’m not that good either. Just have fun.”
He smiled when the song suddenly switched to “Thriller.”
I made a face at him before starting my well-practiced dance moves. My mom had been a huge, huge, huge fan and when we were little, she'd play this record a hundred times, teaching Eli and I the dance moves. I'm pretty sure we could both do the entire song if we wanted, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was off on some random corner of the floor busting a move solo. Sacha stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and mimicked my moves pretty perfectly. I couldn't tell at all that he couldn't dance, but it also helped that we were both laughing uncontrollably throughout the entire song, and then continued through “I'm So Excited” when it came up next.
Rhythm, Chord & Malykhin Page 15
