I try to keep my tone light. “Hey, Mickey.”
“Hi Vance.” Her lips do that half tilt in the corners and she’s too fucking cute. Then I inwardly tell myself to shut the fuck up because she’s going out with Julian—even if it is just to ‘hang out.’
“Okay. Well, you kids have fun.” I rush the words out through gritted teeth and rip my gaze away, climbing the few steps necessary to reach my room. Once I cross the threshold, I slam the water bottle down on my desk and march to the window. My scowl grows as I watch Julian round the car to open her door. Before Ember gets in, she briefly looks up and our eyes lock. I should back away—but I can’t. She breaks the stare first, ducking her head and finding a spot on the front seat.
I can’t help thinking she’s with the wrong guy—wishing that I was the right guy.
SURROUNDED BY TWINKIE wrappers, I’m sitting on the carpet strumming my guitar. I’ve been trying to compose something for over two hours but I can’t get the arrangement to work. I’m too distracted. My mind cluttered with shit, wandering to where it shouldn’t be. Frustrated, I push to my feet and set the guitar beside the bed. At my desk, I flip the switch on the iPod dock then jump on the mattress, lying back with my hands laced behind my head. The digital clock reads 9:00—too early for them to come home. A peculiar lump settles like a boulder in my stomach. I wish it would go the fuck away.
The book on the side table seems like a good distraction. But when I pick it up, I stare at the same two pages for far too long. As if the world is taunting me, that song Ember liked in the car comes on, the sound of her squeaky voice as she sang along plays in my head—and that’s the last straw. I can’t sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore.
I slide off the bed and yank the chair back from my desk. It snags on the carpet before my ass lands on the seat and I power up my laptop. My fingers move restlessly over the keys as I wait for it to boot. When it does, I search Google and type in ‘Eastmoreland pool bars.’ Several are listed, though only one is considered a tavern and located in the center of town—easier than I thought. Of course it takes me another ten minutes to get off the freaking chair, debating whether or not this is a good idea. In the end, I convince myself I’m entitled to show up. He said they were only hanging out. It’s not like I’ll be a third fucking wheel.
A hot shower invigorates me, as does finally getting my car returned. Back to normal, my Mustang roars to life and I reverse out of the driveway to head into town. Since it’s the weekend, I have to circle the block many times before I find a freaking space. Humidity hangs thick in the air as I climb out, bypassing a bunch of dudes lighting up and blowing smoke rings into the black sky.
I push through a vintage wooden door leading to a darkened space packed with people. From what I can see, the front area houses a bar, arranged seating, and a handful of booths near the back. In an adjacent room, pool tables are set up with games already in progress. To my right, couples hang all over each other on a self-made dance floor. I scan the area to find no sign of Julian or Ember. The music is a deafening beat anyway, and would make it difficult to get their attention. For a second, I consider maybe they decided to go elsewhere which means I’m pretty much screwed.
A firm hand squeezes my shoulder and I turn around to discover Julian leering at me. “I was wondering how long it was going to take you to show up.”
“Huh?”
“I said,” he shouts, cupping a hand over my ear. “I was wondering how long it was going to take you to show up.”
I back away with eyes narrowed to mask my grin. “I heard you the first time. And you can wipe that smug expression off your face. You planned this whole fucking thing, didn’t you?”
Julian shrugs, playing it off as completely innocent. It might work if I didn’t know him so well. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I peer around him but only see heads. None of them resemble Ember. “Where is she?”
He jerks his chin over his shoulder. The music drops down a notch enabling me to hear him better. “She’s sitting at a booth and… she hasn’t stopped talking about you the entire time,” he adds, a little too pleased with himself. “I almost think maybe she came out with me so she could pump me for information. She’s curious, that one.”
I chuckle while trying not to freak the fuck out about what he told her. “Julian,” I warn, resorting to intimidation and not having a chance in hell of being successful. “What did you tell her?”
He whistles, bobbing his head. “Oh, not much. Just about the time we all went camping and you dove in the water and came up without your swim trunks.” My threatening glare does nothing to stop his rant. “And I also told her about the time you got caught having sex with that Hooters girl in the bathroom.” He taps his forehead and I’m seeing red. “What was her name?”