Shit.
“Let me grab a shirt,” Lyrik said before he ran upstairs, and I followed him, tapped at Austin’s door. I cracked it open. “Hey, man, we’re going to run into town and grab a drink. You good?”
Lying on his bed in the dark, he pulled his headphones from his ears and rolled his head back to look at me. “Yep. I’ll be here.”
I hesitated. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
He smiled a tight smile. “I’m fine, Baz. Don’t worry about me.”
Like that would ever happen. But he was an adult and I couldn’t go coddling him like a little kid anymore, as much as I wanted to.
“All right. Get some rest.”
I clicked his door shut and bounded back downstairs. Excitement and dread were making a play for the win on my feelings. Excitement was rarely an emotion I was familiar with anymore, and it left me feeling all fidgety and on edge, not quite sure what to do with myself.
Everyone was gathered at the front door, ready to head out.
“I’m gonna take my bike. Need to clear my head.” More like try to regain my cool. Here I was about to lead my loser friends off to invade my sanctuary. It was bad enough worrying about being discovered night after night.
It was that redheaded bartender that set me off-kilter. The girl screamed L.A. Every exposed inch of her, and I could only assume the sparse bit that she didn’t put on display, was covered in tattoos, all leather and high-healed boots, snark painted all over her too-perfect face.
She stuck out in that bar worse than I did.
But it was the way she looked at me that had me betting she knew exactly who I was.
Still, she’d never called me out. She just watched me watching her girl, trying to get a read on me.
Was wondering if that rule would remain true when I paraded through the door with the entire crew in tow.
Zee’s brow lifted in concern. “You sure you’re fine to ride?”
The Keeper.
“Yeah, man, I’ve had half a beer. I’m good.”
“All right then, we’ll follow you out.”
I felt a tug of dread, all mixed up with a barrel-load of eager anticipation.
I STRUGGLED TO BREAK THROUGH the bottleneck close to the stage, delivering some drinks at a couple of tables and taking the order at a few more. It was Saturday night and Charlie’s was packed, which was common for a weekend, but especially so when Carolina George was playing. Their music was country, but took on a distinct pop edge. Their guitar player, Rick, was something to look at, and the women seemed to flock in just to stare at him all night. The singer, Emily, was completely gorgeous and had a voice that made me get a little lost in my thoughts.
I loved when they played, their songs leaving me feeling bittersweet, a sense of nostalgia locked deep in the center of my chest. It was both beautiful and upbeat, and brought people out in droves on the one night a month they played here.
I made my way back up to where Charlie, Tamar, and our weekend guy, Nathan, worked frantically to keep up with the six waitresses working the floor, plus the slew of people taking up the actual bar. There wasn’t a single stool vacant.
I flashed a harried smile at Tamar and slid her the napkin where I’d jotted down my orders. “It’s crazy out there.”
She grinned, not missing a beat as she filled three chilled mugs from the tap, shaking up a cocktail in her left hand before she poured it over ice. “I love it when it’s like this…the energy’s so thick you can taste it. And when the band strikes up? It’s going to get wild.”
Playfully, I rolled my eyes. “I swear, you should be the one up there, the way you get all starry-eyed every time a band takes the stage.”