I gradually lose myself to people-watching while I sip on my drink and wait for Dee to tire herself out. The group beside me at the bar all look like college kids. They seem nice, and it makes me hopeful that I’ll make at least a few new friends on Monday. Next to them is a girl dressed even sluttier than I am, surrounded by three guys who are all shamelessly hitting on her. I wonder if the guys are friends with each other, and I’m curious to see which will win the little competition they’ve got going on. The one with the blond faux-hawk is pretty damn cute; my money would be on him.
His eyes lift to catch me staring, and he smiles at me. I look away before he gets the wrong impression and decides to come over.
Next to him is a guy with his back to me, talking to a girl with bright purple eye shadow. She’s gorgeous, with rich brown hair styled in a long bob. She laughs at something he says, and he places his hand on her forearm, caressing it tenderly with his thumb, giving her all the right signals. She’s leaning slightly toward him, batting her lashes and brushing her fingers through her hair. I’m still staring when the guy turns toward the bar to order another drink.
And my heart shatters into a million jagged pieces.
Brady.
I blink, for a second believing that I can’t trust my vision. I rub my eyes and stare harder, but it’s definitely him. What the fuck is he doing here?
Maybe he came here to meet me. I scramble to check my phone.
No missed texts. No missed calls. I look from him to my phone and back again, remembering that Dee had mistakenly told me that we were going to a different club across town and that’s what I told Brady. He didn’t expect me to be here. With my eyes on my phone, I type another text.
Are you still working?
I watch as he pulls his phone from his shirt pocket, checks it, and then tucks it away. The girl he’s with says something, and he leans in close to her ear, then kisses her cheek.
Maybe they’re just friends. Please be just friends.
I watch as they laugh, as they talk, and then as Brady leans in and kisses her. And it isn’t a friend kiss. He doesn’t even come up for air, and I can’t remember the last time he kissed me like that. I’m practically falling off of my stool before I know it, scrambling to find an exit door before I turn into a blubbering mess right there in front of everyone. I can barely see through the cloud of tears in my eyes as my hands push past people who stare at me or throw curses my way. Finally, I slam into a big metal door and fly outside just as a sob bubbles out of my throat.
I brace my hands on the cold stair railing and struggle to breathe. I suck in air, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure. How could he? How could he?!
Three years. Three fucking years. He asked me to move in with him! We live together, for God’s sake. I have never done anything to deserve this. I wouldn’t even dance with those perfectly nice guys inside!
My knees feel like they’re going to fail me, so I sit down on the top cement stair and curl my arms around my legs. It’s gotten chilly, but that’s the least of my problems. What am I going to do? I can’t sleep under the same roof as him tomorrow night. I can’t. I just can’t.
It’s pitch-dark except for a single light hanging above the door and some overhead lights across the parking lot. Bugs swarm in the spotlight above me, and normally I’d be paranoid about being so close to them since I’m allergic to pretty much all insect bites known to man, but right now, I don’t care. They can eat me alive; hopefully they finish the job.
I reach my hand up to wipe the tears from my cheeks, realizing for the first time that I’ve been crying. God, what am I going to do? Should I go back in there? Should I tell Dee? She’ll kill him.
I bury my face in my knees and let myself really cry then, sobs racking my body. I loved him. I loved him with every piece of me. I would’ve given him forever. My whole future . . .
When the door opens behind me, I sit up straight and hurriedly sniff in my tears as I wipe my shaking fingers across my slippery cheeks. I hear the flick of a lighter, and then someone sits down next to me on the stairs, puffing a cigarette. When I look over at him, I nearly choke.
He gazes back at me, starting at my hot-pink heels and then raking his way up, and then he chuckles. “Are they letting people in yet?”
Adam. He’s ditched the shades and cap, and now his dark brown hair is framing his gorgeous face, stretching almost to his chin. I look away quickly, hoping he can’t tell I’ve been crying.
“Sorry about that,” I say. And I hear the hoarse sadness in my voice, but I couldn’t keep it out.
When he reaches over and brushes my tangled hair away from my eyes, I tense.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, and I half laugh. No, everything is not okay.
“Everything’s fine.”
“Then why have you been crying?”
“No reason.”
“You get all dolled up to sit outside of rock shows crying by yourself?”
I lift my gaze to stare into his eyes, and something in them makes me believe he really cares. Or maybe that’s just what I want to see, but I suddenly need to tell someone. “My boyfriend’s in there.”
“And?”
“With another girl. I just caught him cheating.”
Adam takes a deep puff of his cigarette, nodding as he sighs it back out. “Want me to fuck him up?”
I laugh, and he smiles at me. “Would you?”
“If you want me to.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Because I offered.”