“I got us some drinks,” Catriona says, patting the comfy leather seat beside her. “Sit with me.”
Noticing the pile of coats and jackets on the window ledge behind our table, I unbutton my coat, folding it and my scarf and placing it on top of the existing mountain.
“Holy fuck. You look smokin’,” Ash says, grinning.
Feeling eyeballs on my back, I turn around, meeting Dillon’s heated stare. Slowly, his eyes rake over me from head to toe. It’s as if he’s peeling off my clothes, leaving me naked and exposed to his hungry eyes. I squeeze my thighs together as desire coils low in my belly, and my heart is thumping wildly in my chest. Aoife narrows her eyes, scowling in my direction when she notices Dillon’s attention has strayed. Her arms wrap more possessively around his neck, but he’s not showing her any attention.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jamie and the guy with the long hair staring at me too, and I’m wondering if it was a good idea to wear this top after all. I’m not sure I’m ready for attention from the opposite sex, even if a part of me is thrilled at their reactions.
My chest heaves as Dillon’s eyes linger on my black bra, and my mouth is suddenly dry.
“Wow. You’re beautiful,” Ronan says, admiration evident in his gaze and his tone. His words break the hypnotic spell I was in, and I wrest my gaze from Dillon, focusing on Ash’s younger brother. “If all the women in L.A. look like you, I’m even more determined to make it there someday.” He waggles his brows.
“Most of them don’t look like me,” I supply. “I think there are more blondes with fake tits in L.A. than any other place in the world.”
“I’d really love to chat to you about it,” he adds, as I maneuver my way around the table, flopping down on the seat beside Cat.
“Not now.” Ash nudges her brother aside so she can claim the last seat beside me. “We’re here to have a good time. Grace can talk to you about L.A. another time.”
“I’m happy to talk to you. Maybe you and Ash could come over to my place for lunch sometime, but just understand I know nothing about the music scene in LA,” I admit, curiously eyeing the pink concoction with floating strawberries in the large wineglass. “What’s this?” I ask, turning to face Cat.
“Pink Gin with 7UP. It’s delicious. Try it.”
I’m more of a vodka girl, but I take a sip, instantly liking the sweet, fruity, refreshing taste. “This is good.”
“It’s too sweet for me,” Ash says, bringing a bottle of beer to her lips.
“I still feel like pinching myself being able to openly drink,” I admit, even if I’m luckier than most because at private industry parties back home no one bats an eye if I drink.
“You can’t drink in America?” Ronan asks. He’s leaning against the wall, sipping a beer.
Someone hasn’t done their homework. “Legal age is twenty-one, and they’re strict.” I’m not sure how the music industry works, but if it’s anything like Hollywood, I think he’ll get by.
“That’s fucked in the head,” Ronan replies.
“Changing your mind?” I tease, taking another mouthful of my drink.
“Nah. I’ll just have to get a fake ID.” He grins, lifting the bottle to his mouth.
A shrill whistle rings out, and we whip our heads to the end of the table. Jamie, Dillon, and the guy with long hair are standing, eyeballing Ronan.
“Sound check,” Dillon says, gesturing him forward.
“You’re hanging around to watch our set, yeah?” Ronan asks.
“Sure.” I give him a reassuring smile, purposely ignoring Dillon. I don’t need to look to know his eyes are fixed on me, because I feel his penetrating gaze crawl over every inch of my skin.
The guys wander off with Aoife trailing behind them.
“What’s up with Aoife?” I ask, when they have disappeared.
“She’s the band’s main groupie.” Ash purses her lips as she confirms my suspicions. “She’s banged them all except Ronan. He’s got more sense.”
“For now,” Cat says. “If they make it big, it will be harder for your little bro to maintain that innocence.”
Ash almost spits beer all over the table. “Ronan might not get with girls as much as the others, but he’s far from innocent. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way.”
“I’m sensing a story.” I smile over the rim of my glass, tossing my hair over my shoulders.
“My parents own a farm in County Wicklow, and let’s just say my brothers know how to make good use of the various barns and sheds around our property. I’ve walked in on all of them getting up to no good with girls at least one time.” She visibly shudders. “I don’t have to worry about it with Shane and Ciarán anymore. Shane is engaged and Ciarán has a long-term girlfriend. Despite what I just said, Ronan is a sucker for love, and he’s not into casual sex. He’s had his fair share of girlfriends. Dillon is a hound though. He gets with a lot of women. And I mean a lot.”
“I can see that.” I bite down on my lower lip, looking off into space.
“Oh God. No. Not you as well,” she groans, shaking her head.
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I’ve sworn off men, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind. Both your brothers are hot, but Dillon has this presence about him that is hard to ignore. I have no trouble believing women drop at his feet.”
Just not this woman.
“It’s true, and the fact he’s a total asshole seems to work in his favor. I’d like to say I don’t understand it, but my ex had that dickhead vibe too, and I fell for him so fast.”
“Let’s not go there.” Cat slurps her drink as she looks at Ash. “Mixing talk of that prick with alcohol never ends well.”
We leave our table fifteen minutes later to move to the room where Toxic Gods is playing. It’s a dimly lit square room with scuffed wooden floors, a DJ box at one end, and a small stage at the other. On the very left of the room is an elevated seated section. Aoife and a couple of other girls are already sitting at the top tables, and they ignore us as we enter the reserved area.
Claiming seats in the middle, away from the groupies but close enough to have a good view of the stage, we settle down with our drinks. The room slowly fills with most of the crowd standing in front of the stage. I sneak glances at the band as they warm up. Dillon is out front, at the microphone, and he has a guitar slung around his shoulders. Ronan is on drums. Jamie and the other guy are either side of Dillon, and both have guitars strapped to their bodies too.
“Who’s the guy with the long hair?” I ask Ash, as we wait for the band to start.
“Conor Pierce. He’s the lead guitarist. He and Dillon write all the songs.”
“How long has the band been together?”
“Dillon set the band up when he was fifteen. Conor and Jamie were in his year in school. They had a different drummer, but he dropped out last year when he moved overseas. Ronan stepped in then though my parents weren’t exactly happy about it.”
“How come? I thought your parents were supportive,” Cat says.
“They are. It’s just he’s young, and he’s only sitting his Leaving Certificate in June. They want to make sure he gets it so he has options. Ronan couldn’t give two shits about school, and if he had his way, he would’ve dropped out last year, but my parents refused.” Ash finishes her beer, waving the waitress over. “Ronan hates being at school all week while the rest of the band are living the rock and roll lifestyle in town.”
“June isn’t that far away,” I say. “And I can understand your parents’ logic.”
“What can I get ya?” the waitress asks, whipping a pen and pad out of the pocket of the black apron she’s wearing.