Page 30 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
I force another laugh. I roll my eyes, then I raise the hand with the alcohol wristband...that I got with my fake ID. I wave it around as if it’s proof enough, then add, “I can show you my ID if you don’t believe me.”
He hums and I feel his eyes on me. I wait for him to call me out. To catch me in the lie. But then I see him nod again, and I slowly release a sigh of relief.
“That second one for a...friend?”
The change of subject calms my nerves, and he draws out the word friend suggestively. Searching for a particular piece of information, I realize, and for a reason I don’t want to admit, I nod.
“Yep. For a friend.”
Not a pseudo-boyfriend. Not a guy I was planning on sleeping with tonight. Just afriend.
Torren hums and takes a sip from his drink. His head tilts downward slightly, and my nipples pebble as if I can feel his eyes caressing my skin. I would give anything to be able to see his eyes now.
Then he’s leaning toward me, closer and closer, until I involuntarily hold my breath. His lips are inches from my ear when he finally speaks.
“I hope you and yourfriendenjoy the show. See you later, Firebird.”
He leans back, and I suck in a harsh breath. He’s grinning, obviously enjoying how he’s unsettled me. Then he takes a few steps backward before finally turning around and giving me his back.
“Hey,” I say loudly. He stops walking and glances over his shoulder. “It’s my natural color.”
He smirks, then disappears into the crowd, leaving me bereft and dazedly staring after him.
Someone bumps into me, jostling me and sloshing Becket’s beer onto my hand. They apologize, but I don’t acknowledge them. I’m grateful, actually. It’s brought me back to reality.
Because...what the actual fuck was that?
The more I run the encounter with Torren through my head, the more I’m convinced it was a figment of my imagination. Far too bizarre to be reality.
I mentally berate myself as I head to the soda can guitar.
Did I really saydoes the carpet match the drapesto Torren fucking King? Way to make it awkward. He was probably just trying to compliment me, and I had to go and make it weird. My hair colorisunusual. It’s not uncommon for strangers to comment on it. Usually, old ladies at the supermarket or drunk girls in bar bathrooms. Definitelynothot rock stars I’m obsessed with. But still.
What the fuck.
By the time I make it back to the guitar statue, it takes Becket taking his beer from my hand before I finally pull myself out of my fanatical spiral.
“What took you so long?” Becket asks, and my cheeks heat with guilt I don’t deserve to feel. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t even flirt. It was just a casual conversation with a guy I’ve masturbated to. Nothing at all to feel guilty about.
“The drink line was long.” I look away and take a sip of my own beer. “What food did you get?”
He holds out a triangular cardboard box, and I groan.
“I said no pizza, Beck. I’m sick of pizza.”
He laughs. “We’ll get you your kababs tomorrow. This pizza smelled too good to pass up.”
I roll my eyes and take the slice, mumbling a half-hearted thanks as he throws his arm around my shoulder and steers me toward the main stage.
“Ezra,” I say with a laugh as soon as my eyes land on him. “What in the hell are you wearing? It’s ninety degrees!”
Ezra grins and spins with his arms spread wide to show off a shiny black fur coat that falls to mid-shin.
“Fire, right? It’sfaux.”
“Fire as in you gotta be sweatin’ your ass off,” Rocky says with a laugh. “You’re gonna reek, bro. Gonna smell like an old shag carpet soaked in beer and BO.”
Ezra grabs Rocky in a headlock before wrapping them both in the ridiculousfauxfur coat. Rocky gags, Ezra grunts and hunches over, then Rock falls to the ground, spitting profanities at Ezra before scrambling back toward him. I shake my head with a sigh. They’re idiots. Pike, Becket, and I continue on our way to find a spot in front of the main stage and leave the other two to brawl in the dirt behind us.
