“And this one is dedicated to all of the bitches who love us. You know who you are!” Cole screamed into the mic, pointing at the girls clamoring at his feet for a moment of his attention. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.
“He really is a cocky bastard, isn’t he?” I asked Vivian, who was sipping on her rum and Coke at the bar, watching her on again, off again bed buddy thrust his pelvis seductively. At least I think it was meant to be seductive. Personally I thought he looked as though he had a bad case of crabs.
Vivian shrugged a shoulder and swirled the tiny straw around in the ice. She seemed completely unconcerned by the way the man who frequently screwed her brains out make a spectacle of rounding up the next warm body.
But I knew the whole thing bugged her. Vivian was a strong, take no bullshit kind of woman. Which is why this whole situation between her and Cole was extremely perplexing. But I wasn’t one to dwell too long on someone else’s problems. Not when two of mine were in the same room tonight and that made me all sorts of twitchy.
Damien had officially blown off all of Jaz’s advances. I knew this because every time she had tried to approach him this evening, she had been politely but coldly rebuffed. The backstabbing skank face had looked ready to bust a gasket. And yes, I loved it. If I could have bought tickets and a tub of popcorn, I’d have been front and center for Jaz’s abject humiliation.
But while Damien had jumped off the rebound train, he was clearly trying to reboard the Riley wagon. He was sniffing so hard around my skirt that I wondered whether I’d need to have him surgically removed. And this did nothing for any semblance of a good mood.
Because with every one of my ex’s overtures, I felt the cold, dispassionately watchful eyes of the lead guitarist of Generation Rejects. He bore holes in my back. While I worked, he played his gig and there was a gritty edge to his performance tonight.
I was no music connoisseur but even I could hear the frenetic energy in the way he played tonight. He had already broken two strings during the set by his angry ferocity. And I knew the reason for his super happy good mood lay entirely on my I-Swear-I-Don’t-Give-A-Damn shoulders.
“I married the ketchups for you, Ri,” Damien said with a hesitant smile, coming into my section to hand me several bottles of condiments to put on the tables. When we were dating we routinely helped each other finish up our closing tasks. It was as familiar as apple pie. But now, there was something desperate about it. And I really wish he’d back off. He wasn’t helping the fog in my head at all. In fact, Damien Green was stirring it into a thick pea soup.
There was a screech as Garrett hit a wrong note and my head snapped to the stage. Even from this distance, I could see the scowl etched on his face as he looked down at his instrument. Jordan frowned but didn’t miss a beat on the drums and Cole sang on, as though the massive screw up hadn’t happened at all.
Garrett’s head came up and his eyes fastened to mine. I swallowed thickly and then forced myself to look away. Damien was already sweeping under my tables.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, holding my hand out so I could take the broom from him. Damien’s eyes were shy as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
“It’s not a problem, I like doing things for you, Riley,” he said, having to yell over the commotion of the song being played on the stage behind us.
Okay, enough was enough. I made a sound of irritation and snatched the broom from his hands. “Jeesh, Damien, lay it on a little thicker, why don’tcha,” I said nastily. Damien blinked at me, as though shocked by my annoyance. Which proved how little he truly knew me. After over a year together, he should have anticipated my bitter response.
“I’m just trying to help.” He sounded so wounded and that just made me want to smack him.