Page 44 of The Logic of Loyalty

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” The urgency she’s using, pushing me away, is a strange one-eighty from only minutes ago, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The opening chords of Savage Sixty8’s “Cake Eater” reverberate around the room. A smooth mix of bass and drums thumps around the room, and the already crazy bar goes absolutely batshit.

Nick’s low, raspy voice fills the room as he begins to sing.

“Lying here, in my post-orgasmic bliss.”

A cacophony of shrill screams fills the air, every single woman losing her shit for his rock star sex appeal.

“I wonder what could be better than this.”

The drums come back in, and as the bar surges forward, I get the heck out of here. I head backstage and look for someone to tell them I’m heading home, when a man’s voice calls out over the deafening cheering and music behind me. “Hey, man. You Nick’s friend?” A man dressed in a familiar, quality suit stands there, his expression bored.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” I hold my hand out for an introduction. “My name’s Trevor,” I shout back, expecting his handshake as another riff comes from the musicians on stage.

A cell phone lands in the palm of my hand. “Make it quick. I have shit to do.” I blink at the phone in my hand, already open to the keypad, and make quick work of dialing Paige’s number. It rings once before it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, baby. It’s me. I’m wanting to talk to you about tonight and this week. I miss you. Call me back on this number. I’ll be home soon.” I hang up and stare at the phone. When the man tries to take it, I pull it back. “Wait a second.” I dial again, and the same thing happens. I try one more time, and still nothing. She’s ignoring me.

When I hand over the phone to who I’m guessing is Kyle, I startle when the smooth feel of glass replaces it in my hand. I nearly drop the bottle he places there. Lifting it up, I read the label. “Whiskey?” Expensive whiskey.

“It’s on the house. Have a good Independence Day.” Before he can walk away, I grab him by the arm.

“If you get a phone call or text message from a random number, you let me know.”

“Sure, sure. See ya around.”

I stare at the bottle of whiskey and check the time on my watch. The fireworks are definitely over, and Paige wouldn’t answer the phone. If she wasn’t mad at me before, she’ll be furious now. Turning back to the stage, I’m amazed by the energy of the band and the crowd. On one hand, I have a bottle of delicious alcohol and a backstage pass to one of the most popular bands in America. On the other hand, there is going back to the real world and dealing with all of the real-world consequences. I’ve never had nights like this. It’s always been work, school, and family.

“Lying here in my post-orgasmic haze,

Yet all I’m thinking about is those better days.

I shoulda known, nothing good comes from being a cake eater,

Just a delicious way to say I’m a fucking cheater.”

A cart by the exit catches my eye. Cans of Coke and red Solo cups. Perfect.

The concert was incredible, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My mind kept drifting back to Paige—the way I left her at the house, how incredible she looked in her little summer dress. All of those people were there, and I left. Why is it my job to take care of Krista? Would it have been so bad if I just left it alone and let Bobby take her? Bethany is a big girl. I could have just told her and washed my hands of the whole situation. Besides, it’s not like they can’t fuck around any other time and any other day.

A brief vision of her face only hours ago makes the pit in my stomach grow. I don’t even know what the right thing is anymore.

I take another small sip of my second Coke-mixed drink, this one far heavier on the Coke. The alcohol is delicious, but potent, especially considering it’s been ages since I’ve had any alcohol. I might be avoiding real life, but I’m not fucking stupid. As the slight burn slides down my throat, I recognize I’m stalling. Paige has likely been in bed for hours, and the concert is coming to an end. I peer out in the crowd, but I can’t see Krista anywhere. I left her sober. She’s an adult. I don’t have to play protector. It’s only made a mess of the day anyway.

The final notes fade into the roar of the bar. Every single person here is likely more than aware that they just received a treat, listening to these guys in such a small venue. I have no idea how Krista knew they’d be here tonight. Nick and his band love to just show up to places and randomly to play. Their band is known for it.

Nick, Dex, the bass guitarist, and AJ, the drummer, come strolling back from the stage, drenched in sweat and grinning ear to ear. The clamoring, cheering, and screaming follow them. Their energy is infectious. Nick slaps the back of AJ’s neck, laughing at something the drummer said. Their camaraderie is clear, and I’m glad he found these people. He deserves good people in his life. He looks up and meets my eyes, taking in my expression, and his grin grows impossibly bigger.

“You wanna see how we spend our nights, Whitaker?”

I shake my head but can’t help the grin as it overtakes my face. I’m high on the energy radiating from the band, the crowd, the whole night. Plus, I want to be positive that I’m completely sober before I ride back.

“Yeah. Why not?” I pause and consider the fact that I’m talking to literal rock stars. “Wait. No women.”

A slow drip of sweat trickles from my temple to my chin, my breathing ragged. Out of everything I thought I’d spend my night doing … this was not it. I clench my fingers into fists, my thighs burning as I hold my position, waiting. Tension skates down my spine, anticipation sizzling along every one of my nerve endings.

“I thought you said you could go all night,” a mocking voice whispers in my ear, and my jaw goes taut.

“Just check the ball, you cocky fucking rock star.” I shove Nick away as he laughs.