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Corbus: I’m going to drive, you dipshit.
Caspar: Excited to see you later, Mykie!
Blaine: Why was I added to this?
Corbus: I thought you would want to be included!
Renly: I’ll come.
Renly: I can be the designated driver.
Corbus: Tonight’s going to be a good time!
Renly: I’ll pay for the first round of drinks, too.
Corbus: Awesome! Why can’t you be like Ren, Blaine?
Blaine: I didn’t ask to be included. But I’ll come.
Blaine: I’m only coming for the free drinks.
Blaine:Seriously.
It was the message sent to her outside of the private chat that had her almost rethinking the night, however.
Renly: Can we talk tonight? Alone?
She hadn’t answered him. What was she supposed to say to that? No, he was right. They needed to talk in person. If she tried to answer his text, she’d want to explain herself instead of facing him. The last thing she told him was to keep a gun near him, and then she never said anything to him again.
She was a fool if she ever saw one.
It didn’t take long for the bar to get packed, but there were no signs of the boys from where she was stationed. It wasn’t until nearly eleven that she was able to leave from behind the bar and search for the boys. If they had come, they had to be on the first floor due to Caspar’s injury.
It was when she was maneuvering back over to the bar after glancing over the tables in a quick search of their heads that she noticed someone at the bar.
“I’m looking for Mykie! Is she here somewhere tonight?” Renly yelled over the loud voices to one of the barmen he must have waved over.
The barman pointed his chin in the direction over Renly’s right shoulder and he turned, just in time to bump into her, spilling his drink over the front of her.
She jumped back and gasped. Another outfit ruined.
"Mykie," he breathed. Even though it had only been a few days, he looked different to her. His eyes didn't have that lightness to them anymore. Instead, his gaze shifted around, as if he was on the lookout for something. His hair wasn't as tousled as she remembered it, either. Instead of that I-just-woke-up-like-this look, he actually looked like he just had. It was at that moment that she could see the vast differences between the brothers.
“Are you okay?” Mykie said, setting a hand on the side of his right arm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He shook his head, tousling his hair slightly in the process. “I should be asking you that. Can we talk? I know you’re working, but I feel like if we don’t talk about this now, you’re going to disappear without contact again.”
“I don’t know if we should right now. It’s too loud in here to talk—”
“Come on, then.” He grabbed her wrist and began to pull her through the crowd near the bar. Too shocked, she allowed herself to be pulled out the door of Pearl’s. It wasn’t until the cooler air hit her face and they made it almost past Pearl’s that she yanked her wrist out of his grasp.
“Excuse me! What are you doing?” she barked, taking a step back from him and rubbing her wrist. He didn’t hurt her, but his forcefulness was unexpected.
He turned on his heels and stared back at her. “Are you in danger?”
“What?”
"You know," he said, reaching up and brushing a group of hair out of his eye. "I looked you up after you told me to go home. I know who you are now."
