And so on for approximately four minutes, while I stood there like a fucking idiot, wishing I could run like hell.
The song ended, mercifully, and Rodney made his way over, reaching for me for what I thought would be a kiss on the cheek.
Wrong again. So, so wrong.
His lips hit mine, soft and familiar, sending a rush of memories back to me, and I immediately turned my head, smiling awkwardly as I attempted to push him away. Discomfort covered me like a bucket of slime, and I pushed harder.
He finally stopped, but before he let me go, he nuzzled into my ear. “Come see me backstage after the show.” His hand snaked down to my ass, and he squeezed it. “Fuck, you look good.”
I pushed away from him hard, furious on the inside, laughing uncomfortably on the outside, with my cheeks flaming and all those people staring at me. When I turned, a security guy waited behind me with a hand extended to guide me down the stairs, and as I made my way down, I searched for Bodie in the crowd.
All I caught was a glimpse of the back of his head and the set of his shoulders as he wound his way through the crowd toward the door.
“Fuck, shit, fuck,” I hissed, a little wobbly from the tequila as I hurried as best as I could after him through the throng of people to the deafening sound of the band’s final song.
I burst through the door and onto the sidewalk to find Bodie storming away.
“Bodie, wait!” I called after him.
He didn’t stop.
My heart broke, and I trotted to catch up, laying a hand on his arm.
“Bodie, please,” I said.
He whirled around so fast, I almost fell backward.
His eyes were hard, his jaw set and lips a thin line. I barely recognized him. “What?” he shot.
And the accusation in that single syllable cut through me.
“I … I—” I stammered with my mouth open like a trout, completely stunned by the shift in him, though not at all surprised. I deserved every bit of his anger and braced myself.
“Jesus, Penny. What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?”
I blinked, angling away from him a little. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He took a controlled breath, his eyes boring into me like icy blue drills. “I’ve done everything I know to do to try to make you happy, and the second things got real, you dropped me like a bad fucking habit. You didn’t speak to me for days — days, after everything — and when you did call, you called to tell me he called you.” He jabbed a single finger at the venue. “And then? Then we came here together—”
“Hang on, that was your idea! I didn’t even want—” I tried to say over him, but he was a steamroller.
“—And the whole fucking time you were staring at him like he was God’s fucking gift. He treated you like garbage, Penny. Fucking trash. And then you went up on that stage and you fucking kissed him and I just can’t with you, Penny. I can’t.”
I fumed and stuck my own skinny finger in his broad chest. “I didn’t kiss him, you asshole. He kissed me, and I tried to get away from him!”
He laughed, a sound as dry and hot as the desert. “Please. You laughed and smiled and stood there instead of walking away.”
My heart stopped and started again with a painful kick. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Make a huge scene on the stage? Bodie, for fuck’s sake, I came here with you.”
“You haven’t spoken to me in days!” he raged, the muscles in his neck taut and red. “You left me hanging, blew me off, and I’m supposed to feel good about you kissing that prick in front of three hundred people? I mean, what the actual fuck, Pen?”
“Hey, Penny,” Rodney said from behind me.
I looked back in horror to find him jogging up with a smile on his face.
“I thought you were coming backstage?”
One second, Bodie was standing there with his fists clenched, looking like a coil about to spring, and the next, his arm was pulled back, and he coldcocked Rodney in the face.
I watched the whole thing happen in slow motion, accompanied by a series of noises — the smack of knuckles against flesh, my gasp, Rodney yelling Son of a bitch!, and Bodie’s heavy breathing as he shook out his hand.
Rodney crumpled to the ground, and out of sheer, shocked instinct, I reached for him to help him sit up as he held his bleeding nose.
“What the fuck, man?” Rodney yelled but narrowed his eyes as he really got a good look at Bodie. “Wait … Diddle?”
But Bodie just shook his head and looked at me with eyes as cold and sharp as a switchblade. “You two deserve each other,” he said. And then he turned and walked away.
Tears burned my eyes, my throat in a vise, my gaze on Bodie as he stormed down the sidewalk, taking all my hopes and wishes with him.
Ruined. I was ruined. My heart was ruined. And it had been ruined long before I let him in.
Rodney tried to make sense of what was going on, inspecting me. “You’re dating Diddle?”
I sniffed, blinking to keep my tears at bay as I pulled Rodney to stand. “It’s complicated.”
Rodney wiped the blood from his nose and inspected his hand. “Well, he’s gone now. Come on backstage.”
He smiled around the gore on his face, the effect gruesome and sickening. Or maybe it was the tequila. Or the fact that Bodie had just dropkicked my heart.
I shook my head. “I just really want to go home.”
His smile widened as he tried to put his arm around me. “I’ll take you.”
I turned to avoid his grip. “I can make it on my own. Thanks for the tickets, Rodney.”
That smile of his fell, slipping into anger. “Hang on. You’re not actually ditching me for Diddle, are you? That fucking loser never had a shot with you, not then and not now. He always had a thing for you. So fucking embarrassing.”
I clenched my teeth, hot anger boiling in my ribs as the flip switched, illuminating everything I’d avoided, lighting up all the things that had been right in front of me the whole time, if only I hadn’t been too blind to see.
“Fuck you, asshole,” I fired. “He’s fucking incredible. You’re the loser. How dare you. How dare you call me up on that stage and embarrass me and kiss me without my permission in front of all those people. You son of a bitch — you ruined me, and now you think you can call me up and bring me to a show and fuck me like you used to?”
He shrugged and ran his tongue over his teeth, his hands slipping into his pockets and his body shifting into a position that was intended to dominate, intimidate. “Listen, Pen. You’re a thing — you’re on TV — and I’m in a band. We’ve got status, and we make sense, more now than ever. Why wouldn’t I try to get back in with you? I mean, look at you. You and me on camera? On tour? I could fuck you like a rock star, just like before.”
“Fuck you, Rodney,” I said with a shaky breath.
I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm and said my name. And when I turned, it was with my tiny fist balled up and flying toward his eyeball.
The pop was the most satisfying sound I’d ever heard in my life.
Rodney yelled and doubled over, hands over his eye and ruined nose. “What the fuck, Penny? God, you always were such a fucking psycho,” he said to his shoes.