I was starting to hate the lack of anything resembling an expression on his face.
Mitch took pity on the gaping sea of disquiet brewing between his bandmate and me and rustled my hair. “No way, Riley. We have an image as hardcore bad asses to protect,” he said and I smiled at him in appreciation. A silent thank you for rescuing me from Garrett’s icy attack of silence.
“Of course, can’t forget about the all important bad assery,” I agreed, my eyes flicking back to Garrett who had turned away from me. Like I wasn’t even there.
“I really dug that Perfect Regret song, dude. Is that new?” Jordan asked Garrett, who gave him a shy smile. See, there it was again! That lovely, unguarded side of Garrett that I wanted to wrap in a blanket and cuddle to death.
“Yeah, it’s new. I’ve been messing around with the chords for a while. But I just wrote the lyrics a few weeks ago,” Garrett told Jordan, his eyes flickering to me briefly before sliding away.
Ha! I knew it! That damn song was totally about me! Wait a second. I thought back over the lyrics and started to feel more than a little pissed off. Because as far as songs go, that one wasn’t the most flattering he could write. In fact, it sounded more like a great big musical kiss off.
Well, forget him!
The truth was Garrett and I had never gotten along. But at least before our disastrous tumble in the sheets and subsequent almost romantic moment we had been able to coexist. Even if that meant it was the acknowledgement of one another through a series of barbs and insults.
The frosty snubs and hateful songs weren’t something I was okay with. It made me feel as though I had done something wrong. And I didn’t like questioning my choices on any level. I had done enough of that recently, I sure as hell wasn’t willing to start again over Garrett.
So I spoke to everyone but Garrett. And Garrett looked at everyone but me. The effort to pretend that there wasn’t this gigantic elephant in the room was exhausting. I knew by around midnight that I was done. I needed to go home and regroup. Mostly I just needed to sleep and wake up feeling like Riley Walker again.
I knew Maysie wasn’t ready to leave. She was most likely going back to Garrett and Jordan’s. I patted my jeans pockets and realized I must have left my cellphone in Jordan’s truck. “Hey Jordan, can I have the keys. I left my phone on the seat,” I asked. Jordan tossed me his keys and I hurried out of the bar.
Once I had my phone, I started looking up numbers for local cab companies. The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel made me look up. Garrett was headed toward me with his guitar case in hand. He stopped several feet in front of me and dropped the case to the ground. Shoving his hands into his jeans pocket he regarded me levelly.
“Guess you’re headed home,” he stated.
Wow, he was talking to me. What had I done to deserve such a privilege?
I continued to scroll through the taxicab listings, ignoring Garrett just as I had been ignored all evening. Hey, maturity is over rated.
“Cat got your tongue?” Garrett asked, his words sharp enough to cut.
I looked up at him, my mouth curling in sardonic disdain. “Oh I’m sorry, you’re right, ignoring someone is extremely rude.”
Garrett snorted and then gave me the sort of feral grin that was more a baring of teeth than anything else. “You just have to bust my balls, don’t you? Is it so hard to be pleasant?” he asked harshly. The veins on the side of his neck were bulging and I could tell he was pissed.