Losing It (Losing It, #1)

“It’s Garrick, Cade.” I’m sure he’d told Cade that half a dozen times already.

Cade ignored him and turned to me. “ I’ll run inside and get you some napkins. You want another drink?”

“No, no. I’m good, Cade. You stay. I’ll go clean up.”

“Forget it. You like Lindsay’s music much more than I do. All ‘be the change’ and ‘girl power’ stuff. I don’t want you to miss it. Sit.” This time, his hands pushed down on my shoulders until my butt hit the seat. Then he was off, and I was left alone with Garrick again.

“What are you doing here?” My question came out angry.

By comparison, he was sweet and calm, and possibly a little sad. “My Internet still isn’t hooked up at the apartment, and I needed to check my email. I can go, if you’d like.”

YES.

“No,” I sighed. “I’m not going to run you off. I just wish you hadn’t invited us to sit with you.”

“Well, Cade didn’t say he was here with you. I was just trying to be nice.”

“I’m sorry… I just … this is awkward. Cade doesn’t know—“

“—I’m not going to tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d like to keep this job, and besides, your personal life is none of my business. What happened between us is over. ”

His voice turned hard as he spoke. Over? Why did that feel like a punch to the stomach? His teeth were clenched, drawing my eyes to strong, smooth line of his jaw.

“You shaved,” I said. Clearly… no filter.

His jaw unclenched, and he looked at me in confusion. “Uh, yes, I did.”

We sat in silence, and I just couldn’t get myself to stop looking at him. His eyes were ocean water blue, and without the scruff he looked younger, less rugged sexy and more boy-next-door hotness.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and I realized I was biting down on the bottom one. God, I wanted to kiss him again.

I sprung up from my seat, “This was a bad idea. I’m going to go. Tell Cade I got sick or something.”

He stood, too. “No, Bliss, wait. I’m sorry. Don’t leave. I’ll… Shit, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll just sit here quietly, and you two can ignore me completely. I promise.”

At that moment, Lindsay stepped back up onto the small makeshift stage, and the lights came on, and people clapped.

If I were going to leave, I needed to do it now. If I got up in the middle of the set, Lindsay would see and she’d be pissed.

So against my better judgment, I sat back down.

Garrick kept his promise, and kept his eyes glued to his screen. I sat quietly as Lindsay did her sound check, my neck strained tightly to resist looking at him.

Cade arrived back right as Lindsay was introducing herself.

“Hey.” He whispered. “Randy was busing, and he let me borrow a towel. I figured this would be better than a bunch of napkins.”

Then he lifted one of my sticky feet into his lap, removed my shoe, and started wiping down my leg with the damp towel. I giggled when he passed a particularly ticklish section.

I heard Garrick stop typing.

On instinct alone, I looked at him, but he was looking at Cade… and at my legs. I cleared my throat, and pulled my foot back. I took the towel from Cade and said, “Thanks, I think I can get this. I don’t trust you not to tickle me.”

Garrick went back to his computer, Cade focused on Lindsay, and I ducked my head down to get a closer look at my feet. When I was sure they weren’t looking, I clenched by eyes shut and let out a silent scream. A real scream would have felt better, but I would take what I could get.

I recognized Lindsay’s first few songs, having heard her play several times before, both on the stage and just in the greenroom during rehearsal and between classes. She had this great, raw, acoustic sound, and her lyrics were always some kind of social commentary, calling people on their bullshit. Which is why when she leaned into the mike and introduced her next song, I was so incredibly surprised.

“This next one is a little bit different for me. The lovely owner of this establishment,” She pointed off to the side. “Wave Kenny.” He looked under duress, but he waved. “Anyway… Kenny made a request that I play at least one song that wasn’t… how did you put it, Kenny? Bitter or Political, I believe is what he said. And since, I’m incapable of writing anything like that, I’m singing a song written by a friend of mine who wishes to remain anonymous. It’s called Resist. ”

The song opened gently, with a simple progression of cords, similar to Lindsay’s normal sound. Then it turned, became mournful, passionate, almost desperate. She sang… and I wished I had left when I had the chance.



No matter how close, you are always too far

My eyes are drawn everywhere you are



The quiet conversations that had been happening before stopped. It was such a dramatic change that all eyes fixed on her. But I could swear that I felt one pair of eyes on me.



I’m tired of the way we both pretend

Tired of always wanting and never giving in

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