I lift my chin a bit, obeying my subconscious.
“Sal, answer the man.”
“Huh?” I shift my weight to look at Kat and wince.
Nate shifts closer to me and bends down so he doesn’t have to yell. “Should you be up on your foot?”
“It-it’s fine,” I say.
Nate shakes his head, then snaps it to the right at the sound of Evan’s voice. “All right, Sally. Follow me.”
Nate backs up and straightens to what I know is not, but definitely feels like, nine feet tall.
“Oh. Uh, hey man,” Evan says to Nate with a polite smile.
“Hey.” It’s just a one syllable word but somehow sounds like he just told Evan to eff off and die. Or maybe that’s what my very active subconscious hopes it heard.
“Nate, Evan. Evan, Nate. Lead the way, dude,” Kat says to Evan, beaming.
“Right.” He looks over his shoulder, where a couple more guys stand, waiting. “Jason and Cam wanted to see the show, too.”
“Hel-lo, Jason and Cam,” Kat says playfully.
They are good looking, like Evan. I recognize them as staff, as well. They all have that shaggy suntanned vibe. I wonder if they surf in the summers. I bet they do. Why do surfers have shaggy hair? Why is that a thing?
“Does the alcohol make this worse?” Janie asks Kat, as the two of them smirk at me.
My brows pull together. “Make what worse?” Nate’s chuckle vibrates against my back as my gaze bounces between my two friends.
“Nah, she’s only had two drinks, that’s just her big, beautiful brain buzzin' up there.” Kat swirls a finger by my temple, and the supercomputer that is my brain comes back online. They’re teasing me.
Janie bumps a shoulder into me. “Where’d you put your crutch?”
“Crutch? Did you get hurt?” Evan asks, inching closer.
I imagine Nate’s entire body tensing behind me. I assume it’s my imagination, because we aren’t touching, so how could I feel such a thing?
“Well, you’d better climb on then. It’s a trek to the wine lounge.” Evan is kneeling down in front of me before I can respond. His arms out at his sides, waiting to give me a piggy back ride.
Kat is giddy. “Yeah, cuz. Better climb on.”
I look to Nate, who I hope is seething with jealousy. I expect him to touch my arm or at least clear his throat. But he’s doing that eye-room-scan thing.
I sigh and Evan looks back at me. I climb on.
“Here’s your cru—Okay, then.” Janie redirects as our little group starts to move.
“C’mon, Nate. You don’t want to miss this,” Kat calls to him.
I can’t look back to see. Is he not going to come? Is he angry I am riding another guy? If he is, why didn’t he stop me?
Why didn’t I get that ibuprofen earlier?
Luckily, it’s not actually a trek to the wine lounge none of us knew existed.
“We’ve arrived at your destination,” Evan jokes before stopping in front of the piano bench. He may have been drinking when Lance called him, because he plops me down as if forgetting why he was carrying me in the first place.
I hop a little bit, trying to keep my weight off my left side. Then the vice grip is back, steadying me.