Page 4 of Whiskey Promises
"Stupid hot guitarist and his stupid hot smirk," I mutter to myself.
"Where are we going?" Nadia asks.
Away from your guitarist before I accidentally climb him like a tree.
"There's a shot of vodka over there with my name on it. We need to go get it before someone else does." My logic is sound.
"This is a nightclub, Zoya. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to run out of vodka."
"They might. You never know." See? Logical. I peek over my shoulder to find Jareth staring at my ass. Another squeak spills from my lips without my permission. "Walk faster."
Nadia glances back at Jareth, a slow smile spreading across her face. "You like my guitarist."
"What? No!"
"Oh my gosh. You do!"
"Filthy lies." The problem with fair skin is that it tells the truth even when you don't. I feel my cheeks flaming, telling Nadia plainly that I'm a dirty, dirty liar.
"Great show!" a pretty blonde says as we pass.
"Thank you," my sister calls before refocusing on me. "You do like him."
"Do not," I mumble, avoiding her gaze. "He's annoying. And smirky. And he won't stop staring at me."
"He's a good guy. Very interesting."
I huff as we slide onto two barstools at the far edge of the bar, away from most of the crowd. The bartender immediately heads in our direction, wiping his hands on a towel.
"He's not interesting. He's Satan," I mutter, peeking over my shoulder again. Jareth is breaking down equipment on stage, moving with a cool confidence that's fascinating. He's completely ignoring the women at the side of the stage who are still trying to get his attention.
Because he thinks he's taking me home tonight? Maybe.
Wait. What does Nadia mean by interesting?
"Two shots of Stoli, please," she orders for us. "Better make hers a double."
"Got it," the bartender says and then spins to take care of it.
"Interesting, how?" I finally ask.
"He has a twin, for starters."
I turn wide eyes on my sister. There are two of them? "Seriously?"
"Identical."
"Holy crap." God really doesn't play fair, does he?
"And he owns a vineyard."
"He owns a vineyard?" I gape at my sister, trying to wrap my head around that. I guess the body makes sense now. Jesus. Jareth Grayson owns a freaking vineyard. My friends own student loans and bad decisions. "Your friends are not like my friends, Nadia."
She laughs quietly. "Hollywood is a whole different world."
"No kidding. I thought Nashville was glitz and glam when you were first starting out, but this place is…" I shake my head, glancing around the nightclub with wide eyes. It's posh as hell, with tasteful décor and luxurious seating. Considering most of the bars back home stick to the tried-and-true western motif, this place really is a whole new world. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."
It's weird enough knowing that my sister is famous now. But her world is so different from the way we grew up. I guess maybe that's the point, isn't it? She needed something new and different to heal.
