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“Yeah, well, someone needs to keep him out of trouble,” EJ jokes.
I scowl at him, not only because of the joke but because he gets a giggle out of her. “And my best friend loves The Electrocutes.” She offers a small wave to Leah.
“Oh, thank you!” Leah says.
“So, please, bottle service is on the house tonight. Just let the bartender know.”
“You’re the best!” Roxy tells her.
No. No, it is not going down like this. She is not befriending my friends and band, then ignoring me while I’m sitting right in front of her.
“That’s awfully kind of you, boss,” I tell her. She finally locks eyes on me. “Just, please, don’t spill any soda. I’d hate to have another mess on our hands. Especially in that dress you’re wearing.”
Biting her lips, she smirks, but a line crosses her brow. “Well, sometimes people need to be cooled off. The universe provides even if you’re not ready for it.”
“Really? I guess it does. It brought me to you right when you needed me.”
She lets out a scoff, her smile growing wider. “Believe me, there’s nothing I need from you, Maddox.”
“You sure about that?”
Her eyes narrow, and a confident grin crosses her lips. She’s not wearing a bright lipstick tonight. It’s more of a subdued pinkish. Her dress comes down below her knees, but I’m literally fighting with my eyes to stay above her shoulders and not roam her entire body.
Yep. You’re a goner.
“Actually, there is something I need from you.”
“I’ll bet there is.”
I hear the snickering around, but neither of us are paying attention. She leans an inch closer, keeping her brown eyes on mine. “I need you to get on that stage for your next set, DJ.” Straightening out, she flashes a bright smile to everyone else. “Thank you, guys. Have a great night.”
I take a deep breath, watching her turn around and strut away, knowing I’ve been bested yet again.
“What the hell was that?” Leah calls over to me.
I’m annoyed and shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Like hell it’s nothing.”
“She’s just power hungry.”
My words force everyone to start laughing. EJ’s busting up so hard he leans into me, shaking my arm. “Oh, man. Derrik was right. That was awesome.”
“Whatever,” I spit out.
Before I get up to leave, Leah grabs my arm. “You like her?” she whispers while everyone else continues to laugh.
I shake my head, but can’t bring myself to voice the rebuttal.
“Maddox, that was classic third-grader teasing. You like her,” she repeats, and I know she’s looking for a confirmation or at least a response.
But I get up, trying to ignore the words, and make my way back down to the stage. I can’t answer her, and now I know it’s all because of The Voice. Even if I didn’t want to believe it, I have no choice now. I am a goner. And I have no idea what that means or what to do.
