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Pres was silent as she climbed into the Beast. He closed the door softly behind her before walking around to the driver’s side of the cab. She buckled herself in, wondering what he and Marley had been talking about.
By the way they kept looking over, it was either her or Alex, and she was pretty sure neither of them were that interested in the bassist.
The parking lot was dark, almost empty of cars and trucks now. The lights to the bar had been switched off, only the owner and a couple of staff members were inside the locked building, cleaning up after tonight’s full house.
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and saw Alex’s name on the screen.
Is he kidnapping you? – Alex
“What’s got you smiling?” Presley asked as he pulled the driver’s door shut. He started the engine up.
Pink Floyd blasted out of the speakers.
“Alex thinks you’re kidnapping me,” she said, tapping out a reply.
Yes. He’s asking for a reward of one bass guitar and two Big Macs. Leave them by the trash can in the town square. – Cassie
“You messaging him now?” Presley asked. He didn’t sound too pleased about it.
“Yes. Are you jealous?” she replied. Part of her hoped he’d say yes.
“Nope.”
“That’s good. Because we have a little wager. If we get famous I’ve promised to go on a date with him.”
Presley frowned. “Why the hell would you do that?”
To get a rise out of you.
“Because I can’t resist a gamble. And because he’s going to lose.” She smiled. “But don’t worry, my lips won’t be going anywhere near his.”
“Glad to hear it,” he muttered. “You deserve better than Alex.”
Well this was going somewhere unexpected. “Do I?”
His lips twitched at the teasing tone of her voice. “Yes.”
“Who would be better,” she said, touching her fingertip to her mouth. “Hmm, let’s see. There’s one guy in the band who’s completely hot and every time I look at him I blush at the things he could do to me.”
Presley pulled onto the road, shaking his head.
“Don’t you want to know his name?” she asked.
“Surprise me.”
“Marley.” She grinned. “The guy is hot as hell.”
“He’s my identical fucking twin.”
She started to laugh because teasing Presley was way more enjoyable than she’d ever expected. He actually looked grumpy as he took a left and headed back to Hartson’s Creek.
“But can you play the drums like him?” she asked.
“Actually, I can. We both learned, much to my mom’s distress.”
“You did? Why didn’t I know that?” It gave her a weird thrill that he’d volunteered something to her. He wasn’t always this talkative.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” They’d reached a stoplight. The red reflected through the windshield, onto his face.
