Page 59 of Whiskey Sour
“Skylar, we’ve talked about this,” he says gently, pushing me back just a bit. “I’m happy where I’m at. I don’t need to be famous to feel fulfilled with my life and with my music.”
“I know, but?—”
“No, Skylar.” There’s a touch of firmness to his voice that I’ve never heard before, something rough and angry. When he sees my wide eyes, he curses and corrects himself. “I love you for caring, but I don’t want to talk to any producers.”
I nibble on my bottom lip and nod, disappointed. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do.” Suddenly, a wolfish grin curves his lips. “We still have time before work, you know?”
My mouth waters and I squeak as he steps closer. Not too close to be indecent, considering where we are, but close enough that I can feel the pure need pouring out of him. Dumbly, I nod. “Uh-huh.”
He chuckles and laces his hand with mine. Slinging his guitar over his shoulder, he snatches his case, and we make our way back to the main room. We bid a quick goodbye to the kids and Sadie and rush home, taking the soccer mom van since hestillwon’t let me ride his motorcycle.
But the entire drive, I keep thinking about his voice. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime gift he’s been given. It’d be a shame to keep it hidden in the walls of XO. I know he said he wasn’t interested, but my phone—filled with DM requests—burns a hole in my pocket.
What’s the harm in just hearing one of them out?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Skylar
This is…weird.
I mean, Elton isn’t exactly the most normal person on the planet, so it makes sense. But aliens? Really? That’s a stretch, even for me, and I supported hisGuac-You-Talking-AboutNight. Trust me, it was insanely hard to find how to make guacamole cocktails, hence the birth of I’m-Gonna-Guac-Your-World.
Still…aliens? I get that this is supposed to be anOut of This WorldNight, but come on. There has to be a limit, right?
There doesn’t seem to be, though, because people are absolutely eating it up. Rhys, Max, and I are busy working overtime to give people their Stellar Slushies and Probe Me, Daddies. I can’t even begin to tell you what the hell Cassius is playing, but the crowd loves it. Elton gave us a challenge this time around, and it looks like we’re delivering.
“Um, little dude!” Max shouts, eyes wide as saucers as he stares at the multiple people trying to get his attention. “I don’t think I can handle this!”
“You’ve got this, Max!” I yell back with a wide smile as I make three drinks at one time. “Just focus on one, and then move on to the other.”
“Okay, but what’s in a vodka soda?”
“Skylar,” Rhys growls, the vein in his neck throbbing as he hands someone their drink. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I wave away Rhys’s concern. “He’sfine.” Leaning around Rhys, I wave at Max. “Aren’t you?”
“Wait, do we even carry soda?”
“Skylar!”
“Fine, fine! I’ve got it!” Jeez, you think this place could run for one second without me. I hand over the drinks I was making and hip check Rhys out of the way so I can help Max. After I show him that, yes, we do carry soda, and yes, a vodka soda really is as simple as it sounds, everything is smooth sailing. Rhys can just get too grumpy for his own good sometimes.
I spot Elton and Knox heading to the bar and shoo away a customer blocking them. They stop in front of me, and I already know what Elton’s going to say before he opens his mouth.
“I’ll get you a Blue Nipple,” I tell him with a wink. Turning to Knox, I have to hold back my snort. “How much sex did it take to get you to wear those?”
Knox snarls, but how intimidating can he look with an antenna on his head? He turns to Elton and growls, “I fucking hate you.”
“Oh, but you look so handsome,” Elton coos, rubbing Knox’s tense shoulder. “It’s the least you could do since you wouldn’t wear the suit.”
If the suit Elton’s referring to is the same one he’s wearing—bedazzled with blue and white crystals made to look like stars—I can understand why Knox said a firmfuck no. I make them their drinks happily and smile when Elton tells me he likes my costume. While Rhys is wearing a regular XO shirt, and Max is just shirtless and covered in sparkles, I actually put effort into my look tonight. It tookagesto find the right color fishnet shirtthat I’m wearing, paired with the sequined shorts that Cassius and I had to make by hand, so this outfit took some time.
“Thank you,” I say, a light blush coating my sparkled cheeks. “Cass helped me pick it out.”
To this, Knox scoffs, his hand that rests on the bar top, balling into a fist. “Wonderful.”
