AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not like she should be.
“Well, good for you,” I stumble over my words a little bit and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. I wave my hands in front of my body in a super awkward way and shake my head. “No, really,” I insist, “whatever makes you happy. Love is love and all that shit.”
She barks out a laugh and shakes her head, but the small little smile on her lips tells me I’ve offended her. I’m not even sure why that bothers me or matters. It shouldn’t.
I won’t ever see this woman again. Fuck, I’m not entirely sure where I am.
Before I can try and sweet talk her into another drink, she slides a soda across the bar to me. “I’ll be back to check on you,” there’s a promise in her voice along with some concern and compassion.
Why the fuck does that make my throat tighten? When was the last time anyone showed genuine care for me? Clearly, it’s been far too long.
I run my hand over my face and then push my fingers back through my hair before deflating, my shoulders slumping over the bar as my eyes land on the soda in front of me. I should stand up and head back to my hotel room. At least there I have a bottle to entertain me.
I won’t get another drink out of the bartender here, I know it. So why am I still here?
The thought of being alone in my hotel room has my gut tightening. When I’m alone, the memories surface. They invade every thought, every fucking breath, I take.
Lately, I’ve been haunted by the first time I stepped onto a big stage, as headliners, with Conley. There was a glint in his eyes when our gazes locked as fans cheered for us. For us. It blew our fucking minds.
All those people, just beyond the lights, were there for us. They were screaming for our band. As we played, they were singing along to our songs.
That night changed something in me, in us. We might have been able to appreciate what we had in that moment, but we also wanted more.
More fame.
More people screaming for us.
More fun.
More money.
We wanted it all.
It got more difficult to appreciate what we had as we wanted more and got it. Because the meaning behind what we gained was all surface level. It became all glitz, glam, and over the top moments while the music got lost along the way.
“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath, “I need a damn drink.”
“Do you?”
The voice coming from next to me surprises me and I startle, almost falling off the stool in the process. “Woah,” comes from the other side of me and I whip my head back and forth between the men who have taken up space on either side of me.
As I blink a few times, it’s difficult to focus on either man. Or maybe it’s because of the liquor sloshing around in my stomach and the ringing in my ears as I turn my head left and right.
“What the fuck? Shit,” I groan, “maybe I’ve had too much to drink. I swear you’re Cole Howard,” I point toward the first guy who spoke before pointing toward the second guy, “and you’re Booker Holland.”
“They are,” a woman’s voice says from behind me, and I spin around so fast Booker—apparently—grabs me to keep me on the stool.
I’ve spent plenty of time around other famous rock stars, it’s kind of a hazard of the job and all that shit, but I’ve never spent much time with the guys of Suburban Outcasts. I think we’ve been at the same awards shows or something, but that’s about it.
“Well shit,” I drawl, getting my shit together as the room stops spinning slightly as I look at the woman in front of me, “and who are you?”
I look over the tall, blonde woman standing in front of me. She’s gorgeous, but there’s something serious and severe about her. Like she’ll take no fucking prisoners.
She arches an eyebrow, a challenge flashing in her eyes. “I’m married,” there’s no nonsense in her tone as she holds up her hand and flashes the ring on her finger, “and very happy with my former military husband who could kill you without even breaking a sweat.”
My eyes snap up to hers and find ice in her gaze. I hold my hands up in front of me in surrender as the guys on either side of me chuckle under their breath. “Sorry, ma’am. I meant no harm,” I try and soothe her.
She makes a humming sound before nodding toward an empty booth in the corner of the dive bar. It’s been the perfect place for me tonight because if anyone recognized me, they didn’t make a big deal out of it. I’ve been able to try to find numbness, even if I couldn’t, in relative peace.
