Page 89 of Limbo

The lightness returns to his playing as he sings the chorus twice more before bringing down the tempo. He scans over the crowd, his lips curving into a smile as he holds the last chord.

I’ll always remain bound,

Bound to you.

His hands leave the keyboard, and a second of stillness precedes the crowd’s applause. He hops up and gives a proud bow while Mike grabs the microphone.

“Who needs a band with that kind of talent?” He pats Benji on the shoulder. “Next up, we have Dan Williams.”

On his way to our table, Benji smirks. “Better than a fucking ukulele?”

I’m already on my feet, waiting for him, and he picks me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him harder than I have anyone in my entire life, needing him to understand how much I mean it when I say, “Thank you, Benji. For everything.”

“Anytime. Any reason.” His grip on me tightens, and I know he means it as much as I do.

Setting me down, he grins at someone behind me. Someone almost always being Jordan. Sure enough, he steps beside me, his hand finding the small of my back.

“Hear that, man?” Benji asks him. “That’s what it sounds like when no one holds me back.”

“Yeah, just remember my writing credit after you make it big.” He tilts my chin to kiss me, showing no reservations about everyone in the bar seeing his lips on mine.

At that moment, I know Benji’s right. He’s just as much mine as I am his.

I sit down, and he claims the chair closest to me.

“Where’s Felicia?” I ask.

“She found a more attractive guy.”

Doubtful, but I jut out my lip to give him the pity he deserves anyway.

Suddenly, my seat relocates in the opposite direction.

Benji’s foot unhooks from my chair leg, a satisfied grin on his face. “My date.”

I laugh and shrug at an even more sullen Jordan. Our attention turns to the stage and Next-Up Dan Williams as he plucks away on his guitar. A few minutes into what sounds like a three-note song, Benji leans over. “Put him out of his misery.”

I wrinkle my nose at him and his smug expression.

Once Mike reappears, he announces a short break between singers and turns on music. The room quickly comes to life. I leave the boys at the table to get another beer, but with a crowd already formed around the bar, I stop in the restroom.

A girl reapplies her lipstick in the mirror while I wash my hands. She pulls her long blonde hair off to the side, and I notice she’s wearing one of those purposely torn T-shirts with an intricate braid weaving the pieces back together.

“I love your shirt,” I tell her.

She snorts and rolls her eyes at me in the mirror as she drops the lipstick in her purse. Not the expected response to a compliment but whatever. Bypassing the acquaintance stage completely, we proceed straight to best friends forever, and she gives me a once-over, followed by some serious side-eye on her way out.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say to the closing door.

Few people have weeded out from the bar, so I shamelessly flash a smile at the bartender to jump up on the priority list. He nods to let me know he’ll be with me after he finishes up a group of giggling girls. While waiting, I catch sight of Benji and Jordan deep in conversation at our table. Jordan smiles, not the heart-stopping one he seems to only give me but gorgeous nonetheless. My view is interrupted when my new restroom buddy enters the equation. She glances at me right before she makes herself comfortable on his lap.

Oh, fuck no.

I start in their direction with every intention of dragging her across the room by her chemically damaged, bleach-blonde hair. But when she trails a tacky, fake nail down his neck, Jordan jerks away from her touch, an irritated set to his jaw. His obvious disinterest brings back my logical, not crazy-jealous girlfriend side. A side until, seconds earlier, I didn’t even realize existed. Damn, this guy really has a hold on me.

The chances of me causing one hell of a scene have lowered to thirty percent by the time Jordan’s terrified gaze lands on me. Since the ideal lap is at maximum capacity, I drop onto Benji’s. His arm slips around me without hesitation, and I switch my focus from Jordan to Bathroom Blonde. She points her scowl in my direction, and damn do I find her annoyance with my arrival amusing.

I fight off a smile. “Jordan, who’s your friend?”