He crooks his finger, beckoning to him. Tentatively, I step forward until his strong hands circle around me, clasping either side of my bottom. “You’re not angry at me, beautiful.” He backs me up against the doorframe. “Are you?”
Thoughts of how I cried early this afternoon over him force their way into my head. I jab my tongue into my cheek. “I’m trying not to be.”
Burying his face into my hair, he slides his palms up and down my hips. “Then don’t be. Deal with your brother’s shit tomorrow. Be mine tonight.”
Arching my back, I lean away from him and slip my fingers into his hair, tugging hard. His eyes watch mine for what seems like hours before he bends his head to press tiny kisses all over my face and neck and chest, ruffling the flimsy fabric of my shirt.
“Deal with Lucas tomorrow,” he says again in a more forceful voice. “You’re mine tonight.”
I don’t correct him and let him know that tomorrow is Saturday, the last show before we go back to Los Angeles.
“No,” I tell him. “You’re mine.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Albuquerque bar, which is named The Twisted Keg, is located downtown on Central Avenue. It’s twice the size of the bar in Houston, and there are at least three times as many people inside. After Wyatt smooths things over with security at the door, I’m allowed entry without my ID. He kisses me longingly before disappearing to join the band, and I find myself wanting to go with him.
“Thought you guys weren’t into PDA,” Heidi says loudly from behind me as we squeeze through the crowd of tightly packed bodies.
“We’re not.” I shoot a glance over my shoulder to find her grinning. “Why do I feel like this is a screwed up riot just waiting to happen?”
She makes a face at a woman who steps on her toe. “Because you’ve been to these types of things enough times to know how fast crap gets crazy.”
I scan the crowd, playing Where’s Bouncer, and I quickly come to terms with the fact there’s little security. I shift uncomfortably, watching the stage as the band is introduced. “Let’s hope this isn’t one of the crazy ones.” Still, I suddenly wish I hadn’t worn such impractical shoes.
Fanning her flushed face, Heidi nods her head toward the teeming bar, and I groan. “Unless you want to stand around thirsty all night, you don’t exactly have a choice.”
Good point. And after all the drama from earlier today, battling a mob of bar-goers to get a drink doesn’t seem so bad. As we push our way through the crowd, the band starts the first song of their set. It’s a cover that I know better than the back of my hand, and when I start to hum along with it, amusement flickers in Heidi’s cornflower blue eyes.
“You think Lucas would shit a brick if he knew Hazard Anthem’s playing All Over You?”
Because I don’t want thoughts of my brother and his overall stupidity to screw with my night, I shrug. “He shouldn’t be. It’s a compliment.”
Focusing her gaze on the stage, she cocks her head to the side. “Nate’s almost as good as him.”
“Nowhere near it, babe.”
There’s still a line for drinks when we finally push our way up to the bar, but luckily, it only takes a couple minutes before one of the bartenders—a woman wearing a vintage polka dot halter that I have in my own closet—takes our order. “What can I do you for, ladies?” Her scarlet-painted lips drag up into a smile.
Heidi twists her lips like she’s trying to decide, but of course she already knows what she wants. If she doesn’t order beer, she always springs for a Seven and Seven. Tonight is no different, and since we’re staying inside of our comfort zone, I ask for a Bloody Mary.
Triple shot.
The barmaid’s penciled-in eyebrows jerk up. “In the mood to f**k something up?” She supports her elbows on the bar counter, staring back and forth between Heidi and me.
“Nah,” I say. “I just like my vodka.”
She leans back, shaking her head and laughing. “Yeah, me too, hon. I’ll make you a double.” She gives me a look that screams that I should have known better than to ask for more.
As soon as we have our drinks in hand, and Heidi leaves the barmaid an incredibly generous tip, my best friend looks at me. It takes me a few tries, but I finally make out what she’s yelling over the deafening sound of voices and music. “Let’s move closer.”
We squeeze through the mass congregating around the stage, and I grit my teeth when someone jostles into me, causing me to spill a few drops of my drink on myself. Great, now I’ll smell like Betsey Johnson perfume, cigarette smoke, and Tabasco sauce for the rest of the night.
Heidi and I don’t stop moving until we’re near the front of the fray, jammed between a few people wearing tee shirts from Your Toxic Sequel’s last tour. Once the tall guy standing in front of me moves out of the way, my brown eyes instantly locate Wyatt. He doesn’t see me, but every few moments, his eyes flick around the crowd.
Cal manages to spot us, though, and he gives us a wink that I’m certain is meant for Heidi. She must see it too, because she grins like the Cheshire cat before tucking a lock of her curly hair behind her ear.
I lean in close to her. “You’re disgustingly cute.”
She rolls her eyes, holding her hand in front of her defensively. “Trust me, it’s not even like that. He just likes to get a reaction out of me.” Her cheeks are tinged with color, and I’m guessing Cal’s getting exactly what he wants. Before I can say another word, she nods her head the side of the stage. “There’s Terra.”