With a sharp glint in his eye, Shawn asks, “Her hair was kinda like Rowan’s, wasn’t it?”
I am going to MURDER him! My heart jackhammers in my chest when Adam glances in my direction, but he gives my hair only a cursory glance before dismissing the possibility that Peach’s hair was similar to what I currently have twisted up in my ultra-messy bun. “Yeah kinda, I guess. But lighter and wavier.”
My hair is always a little lighter in the summer, and Dee had worked her magic on my unruly waves.
“Maybe she’ll be at the concert tonight,” Shawn offers, his eyes sparking with trouble when I shoot him another warning look. It’s taking all of my self-control to not kick him under the table, but if he keeps this up, he’s going to learn what it feels like to have a kneecap lodged in his thigh.
Adam shrugs, and I interrupt the conversation by telling the guys I need to use the restroom. I tap Shawn’s shin with my toe and then dart my eyes to the front of the restaurant, hoping he’ll take the cue and follow. After Adam moves to let me scoot out of the booth, I walk around the corner to the front lobby and then stand there, waiting.
I can’t believe Adam told all the guys about me. I can’t believe he even remembered me.
When Shawn strolls around the corner, I practically steamroll him out the front doors so we can talk outside. He looks at me and starts laughing. “I knew I knew you!”
I sigh, worry settling on me like a blanket of ice. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Why? Why didn’t you tell Adam?”
I tug on a loose strand of hair escaping from my bun. “I didn’t want him to know.” I frown at Shawn, who looks as confused as he does amused. I use my hands to indicate my plain tank top, my jeans, my sandals. “I’m not that girl, Shawn.”
“But you are that girl . . .”
“But I’m not. I’m not interested in being one of Adam’s groupies.”
“He knows that, though.”
“And that’s all he needs to know.”
Shawn stares at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t put together. “Why did you really come along on this trip?”
I sigh again, rubbing the center of my forehead. “Our professor was threatening to fail him out of the class. I wanted to help, so I stepped in.”
“But why? Why did you do it?”
“The night you and Adam met me . . . I had just broken up with my boyfriend,” I confide. “I caught him cheating at that show, and Adam was really sweet to me. Honestly, that night would’ve been the worst night of my life if it weren’t for him. I felt like I owed him.”
Shawn stands there for a long time, thinking. Then he shakes his head. “I can’t believe he doesn’t recognize you.”
“I looked a lot different that night, and he had been drinking . . .”
“Yeah, but he like obsessed about you for weeks.”
“He obsessed about me?”
“Yeah. He talked about you a lot, and he always listed you on the backstage list, and he’d give you a shout-out every time we performed at Mayhem to see if you’d meet up with him afterward.”
I don’t even know how to process that, much less respond to it. I end up just standing there staring at Shawn, who still looks mildly stunned.
“So you’re never going to tell him?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, and I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t either . . .”
Shawn studies my worried expression for a long moment, and then he sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. BUT, for the record, I really think you should.”
“Nothing good would come of it, Shawn. He doesn’t need to know.”
He shrugs. “I still think you should.”
When we walk back inside, I make a bee-line to the restroom to pull myself together. Adam obsessed over me? I find that hard to believe, since he definitely didn’t recognize me when I saved him from Dr. Pullman, and he had sauntered quite happily into class with all of those sluts hanging all over him less than two days after we made out. But then again, it seems like most of the guys have heard about me—about Adam’s “Peach”—so he must have told them about me . . .
None of this even matters. Even if that night did mean something to Adam, he’s not relationship material. And even if he was, I’m not looking for a relationship.
I walk back to the table, intentionally avoiding meeting Shawn’s eyes, and wait for Adam to stand up and let me squeeze back in.
“You okay?” he asks. I realize he’s referring to my having been “in the bathroom” for so long.
“Yeah,” I lie. “I think maybe I’m just feeling a little carsick.”