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This makes me look at him. He’s a better friend than I deserve. I should be focused on the people in my life who actually want something to do with me. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m mostly packed, I just have to bring a few things down tomorrow morning.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “You’re touring in a band. Don’t worry about Margot.”
A smile comes to my lips, but at the sound of her name, I can’t fight the urge to look at her. I bring my eyes back to where I saw her last and freeze.
She’s gone.
She and that random guy are fucking gone.
“Where the hell did she go?” I say as I set my drink down.
Matt’s still sitting next to me when he asks, “Who?”
Tearing my eyes away from the crowded room, I look back at him long enough to say, “Margot.”
Unconcerned, he shrugs. “I don’t know. She was just there a second ago. I’m sure she’s fine.”
He’s probably right. And if she didn’t have too much to drink tonight, I probably wouldn’t look for her. But I walk away without answering, scanning the room for any sign of the redhead who seems to invade my every thought.
“Margot was just talking to that guy over here,” I say to Izzy and Jess, interrupting their conversation.
“Yeah?” Jess asks, looking up at me with a furrowed brow.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I check it, thinking for some stupid reason it might be Margot, but it’s just another pissed-off cat text.
If she wasn’t so stubborn and just gave me her phone number, I could text her. I’d ask if she was okay, and she could answer.
Problem solved.
But instead, I’m left with the two girls in front of me. “And where did she go?”
Izzy and Jess look at each other, equally confused. This time Izzy answers, “I think she said that guy was taking her somewhere to talk?”
“Taking her somewhere?” I ask, hoping I heard her wrong.
Jess watches me like I’m having a mental breakdown. Honestly, I might as well be. “Yeah . . . but I don’t think she meant leaving the bar. What’s the problem?”
I run a hand over my face before ignoring her question and ask, “Where did they go?”
Izzy shrugs. “I don’t know.” She looks around the bar. “They have to be around here somewhere.”
But I look around the bar, too.
And I don’t see them.
Pushing past the crowd, I fight my way to the bar. “Hey,” I say to the bartender that was gawking at Margot all night. He looks up, and I add, “The gorgeous redhead. Is her tab still open?”
“Oh, Margot?” he asks, and I try to ignore how much it annoys me that he knows her name.
I nod.
“The guy she was with closed the tab for her.”
“Damn it,” I slam both hands down at the bar before adding a quick “Thanks,” as an afterthought and booking it out of the bar.
There aren’t many people in the parking lot, so it doesn’t take long for me to see them. Some guy walks with Margot as she laughs at whatever he’s whispering in her ear.
And before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m headed straight for them.
