AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m beginning to think the fact that this band has never crossed streams is a very good thing.” Zane popped a fried pickle from the appetizer tray in his mouth, making everyone laugh. Including Jamie.
Suddenly, she stood up and hoisted her drink high. “Let’s do a toast.”
Everyone rose, because sitting when Jamie commanded everyone to toast was a recipe for getting roasted for being old or slow or something much, much worse.
“To being friends. To making kickass music. To being stronger than any fucking asshole who tries to take us down.” She slid her arm through mine.
The surprise gesture made my eyes smart as I leaned my head on her shoulder.
“Absolutely,” Lindsey agreed, her blue eyes gleaming fiercely in the low lights of the club. “We’re so much fucking stronger than them. Especially together.”
“Damn straight.” I flashed them a weak smile and lifted my glass to clink with my bandmates’ glasses.
For that moment, none of what had happened in the last twenty-four hours could touch me. Even Cooper making out with some fan fifteen minutes after he’d given me sex eyes and asked—in a manner of speaking—how I got myself off.
At least I thought that was what he had asked me. Admittedly, there were whole chunks of this day that were a blur, but I was felt pretty confident on that one.
I hadn’t seen him in a while. He’d been sitting with us, and then he wasn’t. He’d said something about going up to the bar to get us some drinks. After that, I’d glimpsed him talking to a willowy blond slinging drinks.
I’d deliberately turned away. If he wanted to hook up tonight, his place was huge enough that I wouldn’t hear a thing.
My noise-cancelling AirPods had been in my bus duffel, thank God. Now I just needed a blackout mask and a hefty dose of exhaustion via physical exertion and I’d be fine.
The concert had gotten me halfway there. So, rather than sit here and ruminate about Coop, I’d just go shake my ass with some cute dude who was not going to take me home.
Maybe two. Was there such a thing as a threesome on the dance floor, with clothes?
I nudged my way past Jamie as everyone sat down again. And came face to face with not only Cooper, but his pretty “friend.”
Before I could speak, she launched herself at me. “Oh my God, it is you. Teagan!”
I hugged her back, because I was fundamentally a nice person. Over her head, I mouthed at Cooper, “Who is she?”
“Your old high school friend,” he filled in as if he expected me to catch on quick. “You know, from California. She went to school with you and Elle at Oakside.”
“Yes, it’s me, Priscilla.” She stood back, several heads taller than me, and smiled. This close, her blond hair was almost white, cut short and spiky. “I couldn’t believe it when I was talking with Cooper here. Can you imagine I was hitting on him, then I find out his bandmate is one of my friends from school?” She laughed. “Isn’t that wild?”
“Wild,” I muttered, trying to keep my smile intact. Cooper had gotten more drive-thru offers tonight than a truck stop.
It wasn’t as if I didn’t know he got them on a regular basis. Hello, hot rockstar with amazing talent and a mostly great personality, minus occasional growling which sometimes was pretty hot and sometimes pretty annoying. But I was paying too much attention to his action today.
To him.
Was this because I’d used his soap when I’d showered? Smelling that hint of pine layered under the sprays and spritzes Daisy had put on me must’ve done something to my brain.
“Priscilla,” I repeated slowly, trying to place her. “You were friends with Ricki and I?”
She blinked and then nodded. “Right. Ricki. We were on the squad together. Cheerleading.”
Cooper cocked a brow. “Cheerleading, huh?”
I stomped on his instep and grinned when he groaned in pain. My heeled booties were no joke, and I knew just where to apply pressure. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dallas. It was just for one year.”
I returned my attention to Priscilla. She wore square cut glasses and the standard black and red club uniform with her hair tied back, but I didn’t recognize her at all. “
Priscilla…” I fumbled for the name. I could see her in mind as she’d been then. Taller than me—who wasn’t?—long blond hair, brown eyes, sweet smile. “Priscilla Jones. Right?” Relief saturated the question. “Man, took me a minute.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit up. “Well, of course, you’re a super big rockstar now. No time to remember the little people from your past.” She laughed, but something about it seemed unnatural.
