“Thanks for the whiplash,” he mumbled.
What the…I spun around. My hair whipped around and I shoved it back to get a good look at him while I laid it on him. “Me? Really? Have you met you? I don’t know when you decided to play the role of brooding male, but—”
“I’m not brooding. I’m…”
“You’re what? Enlighten me, please, because I have no idea what you want right now.”
“I want to listen to some music, hang out with the guys, and have a good time.”
So what? Was it my fault he wasn’t having a good time? “If you didn’t want me here, why did you bring us? We would’ve had our own car. We didn’t have to be your responsibility.” I didn’t wait for a response as I stepped through the doors and let the noise of the bar swallow me. Unfortunately it wasn’t loud enough.
“Wait, that’s not—Isla. Hang on.”
I pretended not to hear and picked up the pace, getting lost before he could find me. If he even wanted to.
Knowing I needed a break from Colby, I headed to the bar. Landon hadn’t made it back inside yet, but that didn’t stop me from planting myself on a stool. After all, where else could I go?
The one bartender on duty was thankfully too busy to even notice me, so I slunk back onto my chair and pulled out my phone and began constructing a lengthy text to Felicity asking her for some guidance. About halfway through, the stool next to me slid out.
“Are you angry at your phone?”
I glanced up and stared at wannabe rock star Gabe. “Huh?”
“You’re furiously prodding at it. Thought maybe it had pissed you off.”
“Oh. No, just texting a friend.”
“You mad at them?”
“Nope. Not mad at anyone.” I forced a smile and slid my phone into my pocket.
“Hmm, okay.” He held up two fingers and the bartender nodded, grabbed two bottles, popped the caps off and slid them onto the counter in front of us. Gabe placed one in front of me. “Cheers.” He lifted his bottle and tapped mine.
I stared at the brown bottle in front of me, deciding whether to be offended by his gesture or just roll with it. Considering I was more cranky than not at the moment, maybe one drink wouldn’t be the worst thing.
“So.” Gabe looked at me as if waiting for me to start the conversation. “Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yeah, what I heard of it.” With my fake smile still plastered on, I raised my beer bottle to my lips, mostly to get out of the small talk since I really hadn’t decided until that very moment if I would actually drink it.
“Oh, did you leave or something?”
“I was outside talking with a friend for a while.”
His expression sank and then it hit me. I’d been so preoccupied with the Colby situation I’d missed what Gabe had been hinting at. He wanted to know if I heard his song. Or should I have said my song? Unless he brought it up directly, I planned to play dumb on the matter.
I smiled again. “So do you play a lot of shows around here?”
As expected, that question got him talking, and soon enough it didn’t matter if I was mentally present or not. He seemed to enjoy talking about himself. Not much of a surprise there. I smiled. Nodded. Said the occasional yeah or how fun and it kept things moving.
Before long, my beer was nearing the bottom of the bottle, which meant I could politely excuse myself.
But then I saw Colby. He was rubbing at his jeans where a beer had been splashed on him. Landon tossed him a towel, and as he raised his head to catch it, his gaze drifted to me, then to Gabe, then back to me. As wrong as it probably was, I liked that hint of jealousy I picked up on, so when Gabe leaned toward me and asked if I wanted another one, I nodded. No way was I going to let Colby think I’d run to him just because he was there.
As I slowly rolled the bottom of my practically empty beer bottle against the wooden bar top, I watched Colby. He stared in return. It was a stupid game we were playing but as always, some attention from him was better than nothing and in that moment, I needed him to realize that if he didn’t want me, there’d always be someone else.
Gabe motioned for two more and Landon reached into a large cooler then pulled the silver opener from his back pocket. He flipped the metal caps off, letting them clink to the ground, then glanced at Colby.
The two made eye contact, silently communicating. Then Colby planted his ass in the bar stool right next to mine. So neither brother seemed to be a Gabe fan. I wasn’t really either but it served its purpose for the time being.
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I told Colby, “I have a ride.” Which I didn’t, but I was stuck in my stubborn little game.