I laugh as he leans back, and the girl smiles at us, oblivious. “Menteuse,” I tell him.
“Tu es une menteuse.” He shakes his head and clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Tsk, tsk.”
I playfully roll my eyes at him and spin back to the bar, ordering another drink. When Shawn comes by to ask me if I’m ready for that game of pool, I follow him to the pool tables at the other side of the room, leaving Adam with a girl on his lap, a cigarette in his hand, and a drink on the counter in front of him.
Shawn and I weave through the crowd, passing by Joel—whose blond mohawk makes him easy to spot standing by a pillar, making out with some brunette—and Driver, who is smoking something that smells especially suspicious. When we get to the open table, which Mike is standing by to hold for us, I pick up a stick and chalk it. “So what changed your mind?” I ask Shawn, wondering why he’s finally decided to play with me.
“How many drinks have you had?”
I hold up three fingers, and then I raise my eyes to the wooden ceiling as I think about it, and I slowly lift my pinky finger too. He laughs.
“That’s why. Maybe I’ll actually stand a chance now.”
Mike shouts back to us as he walks to the bar, “I wouldn’t count on it!”
I laugh and nod my thanks to him as he disappears into the crowd. When Shawn finishes racking the balls, he stands back and says, “Alright, your break, Peach.”
My eyes dart nervously to every face around us, but no one else seems to have heard or noticed. I glare at Shawn and walk over to him to line up my shot. “I’m going to kick your ass for that,” I mutter as I lean over the table.
He laughs. “You were going to do that anyway.”
After knocking a ball into a corner pocket on my break, I stand up and grin at him. “True story.”
I walk to the side of the table closest to the wall to line up my second shot, which means I can see Adam across the room. There’s a new girl already in my seat chatting him up, the old one is still on his lap, and another has her hand on his shoulder. I take my shot and completely botch it, cursing under my breath.
Shawn laughs. “Okay, or not.”
As we play, I grow increasingly frustrated, because I am seriously sucking ass. I’m not sure if it’s because of the drinks or because of the sluts, but I can’t concentrate at all. Shawn walks over to stand next to me, staring at Adam, who is whispering in some girl’s ear. “You know, I don’t think he’d be paying any attention to them if you were still over there.”
It irritates me that he’s observant enough to know what’s throwing me off my game. I scoff and say, “He doesn’t need to babysit me.”
Shawn gives me a weird look. “That’s not what I meant . . .”
“Just take your shot, Shawn.”
He stares at me for a moment longer before shrugging and leaning over the table, sinking a ball in a side pocket.
I win the game, but I swear it’s because he let me. He probably feels sorry for me. Glancing at Adam, who is currently laughing with his own personal harem of giggling slutbags, I’m suddenly not really feeling this bar. I gaze up at Shawn and Mike, who are chatting in front of me. “I think I’m gonna get out of here.”
“Aw, come on,” Shawn says. “You weren’t that bad. You wiped the floor with me!”
I force a smile. “It’s not that. I’m just tired. I can’t keep up with you guys.”
Mike wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll walk you back.”
Inside the bus, he immediately sits down in front of the TV and grabs a controller from the tangle of wires in the entertainment stand. He asks me if I want to play, but I pass and head upstairs to get ready for bed. I wash my face, brush my hair, and change into silky pajama pants and a clean tank top. When I walk back to my bunk, which someone has kindly made for me, I stare down at it with dread. I wasn’t lying when I told Shawn I was tired. I feel like I haven’t slept a wink in the past forty-eight hours, and the long drives in the warm sun and the alcohol-fueled nights with the band are catching up with me. Another night of Joel’s snoring might very well kill me—and I definitely won’t be able to pull a marathon tutoring session with Adam tomorrow.
My eyes drift to the closed door of the back room, and then, with a heavy sigh, I enter it. I move all of my things to a corner of the room and crawl under the black satin covers. The sheets are chilly, which feels amazing against my liquor-heated skin. I bury my face in a soft plush pillow, which smells deliciously like Adam, and fall asleep wondering if he’s noticed I’ve left yet or not.
Chapter Sixteen
I’M SLEEPING WHEN I feel the bed shift. The covers lift, and then there’s a weight behind me. It settles close, and I vaguely realize that it’s Adam. It smells like cigarettes and a stronger version of the faded cologne still lingering my pillow. Sleep has almost pulled me back under when I feel something warm press against my shoulder. Something wet.