Cole’s dark hair was matted down over his forehead and I could see that his torn T-shirt was plastered to his chest from the moisture. The ring in his lip gleamed and the guy liner he was wearing had smeared down his face.
He looked like a fallen angel.
Dina had cranked the volume and the sound of Cole’s husky voice filled Barton’s as though he were in the same room.
“We’re lucky to be on this tour with Primal Terror. It was the break of a lifetime,” Cole said, running his hands through his hair, standing it on edge.
“You’re getting a lot of good press out of this tour. A lot of magazines and blogs are calling you guys the band to watch this year. You have an album set to drop in the spring and with only a month left of the tour, you seem poised to take on the world. What’s next for Generation Rejects? Or more specifically, Cole Brandt?”
Cole chuckled in that lazy, self-assured way of his. You would think he had been giving interviews his whole life.
“We’re just looking at all the possibilities right now. As for me, I’m enjoying the ride,” Cole said, flashing a smile at the camera. His grin pierced my heart. Jerk.
“Thanks for talking to me, man. And we can’t wait to see the show. If it ever stops raining. Coming live from Primal Terror’s Wicked and Ugly tour, here with Cole Brandt, lead singer of Generation Rejects, I’m Callum Ward.”
And then the program switched to some commentary on the newest celebrity sex tape scandal.
“Can you believe that? Cole was on TV!” Dina said, turning the volume back down.
Gracie pulled out her phone and started texting, most likely either Maysie or Mitch. The smile on my face was fake and thin and I realized I had never answered Theo’s question.
He was looking at me now, with an unreadable expression.
“You know that guy, I take it,” he deduced.
I swirled the melting ice in my drink with my straw to try to distract him from my discomfort.
“Uh yeah, that’s Cole. He’s the lead singer for Generation Rejects. They’re a local band. Have you heard of them?” I asked, wishing we could change the subject.
“Can’t say that I have,” Theo said and there was a note in his voice that could only be construed as confused.
“They play at Barton’s a lot. Well, they did before they went on the road. This is where they got their start. Gracie and I are friends with Maysie, the drummer’s fiancée.” I was rambling. Why was I rambling?
“I take it you don’t like their music much,” Theo said, surprising me.
“Why would you say that? I like their music,” I argued.
Theo ate a fry from his plate and shrugged. “You just looked like you had sucked a lemon when that Cole guy was giving his interview. I guessed it was because you thought they sucked or something.”
I laughed lamely. “No, they’re fine.”
I had nothing to say after that. The earlier easy rapport that had been steadily building between us had flickered and died.
I hated how much power I allowed Cole to have, even when he was thousands of miles away and had no place in my world.
Why couldn’t I stop thinking about what he was doing? Wondering what show they were playing tonight. I wanted to ask him about his interview and I wanted to know how he was holding up.
I quickly pulled money out of my purse and laid it on the bar. “I’ve got to get back to the office,” I said suddenly, getting to my feet.
Gracie and Dina, who were still discussing the finer points of Cole’s interview looked up as I made my excuses to leave.
“Okay. See you at home,” Gracie responded.
I turned to Theo and wished I didn’t feel so strange.
“I’ll see you later. I’ll call you to touch base later this week,” I said and I knew I was being distant. I didn’t want to be. But I felt I just needed to get out of there and deal with this lump in my chest.
Theo reached out and took my phone that I gripped tightly in my hand. He tapped on the screen for a minute and then handed it back to me.