The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(229)

I spotted Montana standing at the bar and rushed in his direction. It was a battle getting myself through the crowd. People were everywhere, grooving, shimmying, and gyrating. It boggled my mind that anyone could move so much at such a fast pace. Montana was leaning over the counter as I got closer. A female bartender giggled in front of him as she handed him a beer. He tucked a tip into her cleavage and she licked her lips, grinning and winking before he turned around.

“Montana!” I yelled after him before he could get away. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing until he caught sight of me. He paused in his tracks, scanning me with his eyes from head to toe, making me more and more self-conscious.

“Hi,” I breathed out as I met up with him.

“Hot damn, Eliza. Look at you,” he said, still drinking me in.

I fidgeted before him but kept my chin up. “I’m looking for the VIP section. Just got here and would love to sit down. My feet are killing me.”

He laughed, looking down at my heels. “I bet. Come on.” Draping an arm across my shoulders, he turned around and made his way through the crowd.

“Oh my God, it’s Montana Delray!” a girl squealed to her friend. I looked up and Montana winked, but he didn’t stop to speak.

“This must make you feel important,” I said over the music.

“Nah.” He shrugged as we neared double glass doors. “It’s not as exciting as it used to be.”

I nodded as if I understood, and he grabbed the silver handle of the door to swing it open. The VIP room was nice. There were white leather couches against the wall, a table already set up with drinks in the middle, and the same music from the dance floor flowed out separate speakers.

“Welcome to the VIP room,” Montana said. He grabbed the door handle again and stepped back out. “Help yourself to the drinks. I’ve got some fun to have.”

I watched him walk away and then turned to look ahead. No one was inside except Deed P. and a girl sitting on his lap. I don’t know why I worried about Gage’s whereabouts, but I was hoping to actually see him—just to admire him from a distance.

The music grew louder from behind me as I took a step forward. A soft breeze brushed across my bare legs and a warm hand pressed against the small of my back, and that’s when I figured out why it had gotten so loud.

Gage Grendel was stepping into the VIP room, his hazel eyes mellow and a warm smirk on his lips. His hair seemed sort of different and I couldn’t figure out why. It was hotter—still messy, but hotter. As the door shut behind him, his lips stretched even more. “What brings you here? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who likes to get down and party,” Gage said, his eyes slightly confused.

I sighed. “I… uh… yeah… this isn’t what I was up for tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously in need of a better response. “Ben forced me to come out,” I explained. “I’m not really a party person.”

“Well, maybe we can change that for tonight.”

“How?”

“We can start with a drink,” he said, lifting his hand and gesturing to the table. “We have beer, margaritas… or if you like the hard stuff, some whiskey, tequila, and vodka.”

My lips pressed into a line. “I don’t drink.”

“Damn. Sucks. You should definitely make an exception.” He leaned forward, his teeth glistening from the dim lighting above. His cologne filled my lungs and was even more alluring than before. He had on a completely different outfit from earlier—a horizontally striped blue-and-white muscle T-shirt, dark-blue jeans that weren’t too skinny, and his usual black-and-white Chuck Taylor’s on his feet.

I took a step back, realizing how close he was, and then looked at the table. I never drank before, but maybe Ben was right. I wanted to have fun while on the tour and try new things. Why not let loose a little with someone like Gage Grendel? I knew I would never go too far with him, so I simply nodded and faced him.

“What would you have?” I asked.

With a grin, he pressed his hand against the small of my back and my skin tingled beneath the warmth. The hairs on my back pricked and my skin crawled in the most delightful way. He led the way toward the table and grabbed a shot glass of clear liquid.

“It’s not about me,” he said. “For you, I suggest a shot of vodka.” He handed the glass to me and I took it. “That is, if you’re really looking for fun.” Gage then grabbed another shot glass for himself and a part of me was relieved because I didn’t want to drink alone. “Let’s see. What should we make a toast to?” he asked.

“Um… for a rockin’ tour?” I asked, slightly wincing at how corny I sounded.

“That could work,” he said, nodding as his lips pressed to form a smile. “We could also give it up to getting acquainted, becoming great friends, and for two months full of diehard fun?”

I giggled as his eyes softened. Who knew Gage could be just as charming as he is sexy? “That sounds great.”

“All right, to a rockin’ tour… and all that other shit I said before.” He smiled, we clinked glasses, and then I swallowed it down, and right after I pulled the shot glass from my lips, my throat burned. I was desperate to get something to cool it down with. With wide eyes, I looked from Gage to the table and picked up the tall glass of water on the edge. I took huge swallows while Gage and Deed laughed.

“You’ve got an amateur on your hands!” Deed yelled, still chuckling. “Sure about this one, Gage?”

I ignored Deed’s comment, licking my lips and turning to face Gage, who was already looking at me. “Why is it so strong?” I gasped.

He laughed. “How else will you feel it?”

I shrugged, placing my shot glass down. As I looked up, Gage was still watching me, his head cocked to the side. His eyes were lax as he surveyed me from head to toe. “Have you ever danced before?” he asked, licking his lips.

As I fixed my mouth to tell him no, someone pulled open the glass door of the VIP room and stepped in. Her legs were the first thing I took in—long, tanned, glossy, toned… way better looking than my pale limbs could have ever been. Her red dress fit to every curve of her body. Glossy red lipstick was on her full lips and her hair was a deep brown, curly, and styled nicely against her shoulders. Her heels were a fierce red with a black tip. She put me to shame as she stepped forward with a warm smirk on her lips. I was even more humiliated as she hooked her arm around Gage’s waist and he looked down at her.

Something seemed to crack inside me then. I didn’t like how she’d come out of nowhere and put her hands all over him. It was rude, especially while we were talking. I should have expected it from the lead singer of a band, but when he didn’t pull away—when he smiled back at her—I backed off and took a step away, grabbing another shot glass.

“Who’s your friend?” the girl asked. Great, even her voice sounded like harmonious bells.

“This,” Gage said, pulling the girl in tighter, “is Ellie.”

“Eliza,” I corrected.

Gage’s eyes broadened. “Eliza,” he whispered. “Smith.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Eliza,” the girl said. “I’m Penelope Binds, Gage’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? If it were possible for the DJ to feel my emotions, the music would have scratched to a stop in the background.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, reaching a hand out to her. I couldn’t be immature. I didn’t even know why I expected Gage to be single. He was hot; of course there was going to be someone glued to his hip.

“Gage, I wanna dance,” Penelope whined, poking out her bottom lip. I rolled my eyes and turned around. It was worse than I thought.

“Let’s go, then. Oh, and Ellie,” Gage called. I turned slowly, my eyebrows elevated. “Have fun tonight.” He winked, taking Penelope’s hand in his. My eyes followed them as they pushed out the glass door and disappeared within the crowd. A few girls squealed at the sight of Gage, but security guards stepped in the way, making sure they didn’t get too close to him.

I sighed deeply because that just made my night even worse. Staring down at the shot of vodka in my hand, I finally decided to down it and grab another. I didn’t drink, but I wanted to have fun. I wanted to forget about what I’d just seen. My mom always told me drinking gets rid of the problems, but she was part of the reason I never wanted to touch alcohol in my life. Ben would offer wine, but I never took it. This was the night to be different, though. I had to find out if what my mom always said was true, even though she was a terrible influence.

I looked at the door and in came Roy Sykes. He’d changed into a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the stretch of ink on his masculine arms and hands. His shaggy hair hung in his dark-brown eyes, and his jeans were black as well. His arms were just as pale as mine and covered with ink, but it fit Roy. He was really hot… just weird as hell.

As he spotted me, he came to a screeching halt, gripping the door handle a little too firmly, his knuckles turning pale. His eyes stretched and then he took a step back. He took a few more steps back and I stared at him, completely lost. What was he so afraid of? Was he still upset about earlier?