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I point to the guy in front, fiddling with a microphone stand. He’s wearing shorts tonight with an old Nirvana T-shirt.
Oakley’s eyebrows arch. “He’s cute.”
“He is,” I agree.
I glance around until my gaze lands a few feet away, where Ollie is standing with Charlie, Ben, and Chase. They’re all laughing at something Charlie just said. But my eyes are glued on the three women approaching them. Dallas is in the middle of the attractive trio, flanked by two beautiful blondes.
What are the odds of us running into people we know in a crowd this size?
All three are stunningly gorgeous and scantily clad. Dallas is wearing a tank top and cutoff shorts that hug her willowy frame. Her clothes cling to her body like a second skin. She’s flawless. Tan skin, long legs, big breasts, beautiful face … I’m not normally the kind of girl to be intimidated by other females, but for some reason, there’s a knot in my throat that I can’t swallow past right now. All I can picture is Ollie exploring her body with the callous hands that were touching me earlier. The bitterness grows and tastes like poison inside my mouth as I can’t pull my eyes away.
Is this where caring gets people? This irrational jealousy. I don’t like it. At. All.
Dallas is focused solely on Ollie. He stops talking mid-sentence when she steps directly in front of him. His expression is blank as his gaze dips to hers. She places a hand on his chest to anchor her balance as she lifts on her toes to place a presumptuous kiss on his lips. He turns his head, and her full lips land on the corner of his mouth instead. But I feel her touch on his skin like a deep ache inside my chest.
Ollie has always attracted plenty of female attention, so this is nothing new. And rationally, I know Ollie doesn’t want her. I’ve heard the words directly from his mouth. But that doesn’t erase the fact that he’s been with her before. They’ve touched. They’ve kissed. I saw them leave together from Cheerz. I remember exactly what he was wearing and the seductive look in his eyes as he led her by the hand out the front door of the bar. I can picture him back at her place. He’s caressing her face and weaving his fingers into her thick hair. He’s stripping her bare. Their sweaty, naked skin is pressed together. He’s ravaging her mouth and drugging her with his taste. He’s spinning his magic web until she can’t see any man but him. He’s teasing her, whispering sexy things into her ear until she’s crazy with want. The same possessive things he’s whispered to me. His touch has her screaming his name.
And the jealousy burns and swirls in my chest along with the ache until I can barely stand it.
Dallas has had a part of him that I haven’t. And suddenly, the gray area that Ollie and I are stuck in seems blacker and whiter.
I care that he’s been with her recently.
It makes me crazy that she’s touching him, kissing him now.
I hate that I care.
I have this insane need to stake my claim. I want everyone here to know that he’s with me and that I’m with him. I don’t want to play games anymore, no matter what consequences come.
I force myself to look away and take a longer drink of my beer as my thoughts collide and spin like a runaway train. The ale is cold as it slides down my throat, but it doesn’t calm me or douse the fire raging within. On the outside, I hope I look unaffected, but inside … I’m a complete mess.
“Can he sing?” Oakley asks from beside me.
“Huh?” I respond distractedly.
“Johnny … does he have a good voice?”
I sigh. Johnny is the furthest from my thoughts at the moment.
“He has an amazing voice,” I finally answer.
“Testing, testing …” Johnny purrs into the microphone.
A high-pitched squeal emerges from the sound system, and someone quickly adjusts the volume until it disappears.
Johnny chuckles. “Sorry.”
A few catcalls and loud screams erupt from the crowd that’s gathered around the stage.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?”
My eyes travel back over to the group we arrived with. Dallas is still standing too close to Ollie. Charlie and Ben seem to be entertaining her friends. Chase walks over to us and pulls Oakley into his arms with her back plastered against his chest. He sways them both as the drummer starts banging out a beat.
My gaze collides with Ollie’s. His expression is unreadable. I can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling, and I desperately want to know.
Johnny’s voice comes through the speakers, loud and strong, as I pull my attention back to the stage. But I can’t focus. My mind is still over there with the group. With Ollie. I tip my cup until it’s empty.
“I’m going to grab another beer,” I announce suddenly. I spin and start walking alone back to the concession area, throwing the empty cup into the trash can that I pass.
