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That night, I showed up to the gig armed with fantastically combed hair, perfect makeup, and a leopard mini dress and ripped fishnet leggings (did someone say Peggy Bundy’s spirit animal?).
When Alex picked me up, he perked up as soon as I entered his car. He swung his head back, giving me an appreciative once-over peppered with a smirk.
“Well, fuck.”
“You like?” I batted my eyelashes, pretending like it hadn’t taken me five hours to make this look happen.
“Nope. I fucking love.”
It was the first time he said the word in my vicinity, and even though it was the general look he said he loved—not me as a human—butterflies still swarmed all over my tummy.
On our way to the venue, I tried to ask him about his fight with Ryan, but he caged in on me, and basically told me not to worry about it.
When we got to the club, Alex dashed off to start setting up everything with the band. I texted Jadie to find out where she was and we met out front by the black double doors of the place. She looked, as always, like she’d just walked out of a Vogue issue.
And next to Jadie was the bane of my existence, the woman who reminded me my boyfriend had a sex life before me—Ainsley.
Jadie flung her arms over my shoulders and squeezed me to her chest.
“So good to see you, Lara.”
“Same. You look amazing, J.” I smiled warmly at her, before turning to Ainsley. “Hi.”
Ainsley threw me a vicious smile.
“She’s dating Daniel now,” Jadie hurried to say, by way of explanation, throwing her thumb in Ainsley’s direction. “So I expect her to be on her best behavior. With Alex, anyway.” Another awkward chuckle.
“Cool,” I said, a little put off by Ainsley being in proximity to Alex again. Daniel wouldn’t care if Ainsley cheated on him with an entire marching band. I very much doubted he knew her full name. He wasn’t just chill, he was…I don’t know, borderline dead?
“We’re fucking happy together,” Ainsley said, overly aggressive about it. My eyebrows shot up.
“Good for you.”
Watching Alex play in a room full of people was exhilarating. I was so proud. He was so good. I mean, I always knew he was good, because we spent hours in his basement, him practicing, me watching him and wondering when I’d have the guts to sleep with him. But their songs were actually fantastic. The lyrics. The pace. Everything was on point.
Ryan looked like he was about to die on that stage. So solemn, so disconnected from the rest of the band, I thought it was pretty obvious he was the odd one out.
Jadie, Ainsley, a few others, and I were standing to the side of the stage, away from the clusters of sweaty people in the mosh pit. There were a lot of people in the mosh pit. Including, at one point, Tom himself, who crowd-surfed à la Iggy Pop.
By the time the German band got up on the stage, I smelled of cigarettes and lukewarm beer and other people’s BO. One of the bouncers opened the back door for the “girlfriends” to join the band.
Jadie ran and flung herself into Tom’s arms and kissed him hard. A pang of jealousy sliced me. Not because I wanted Tom to myself, no. Or because Jadie was literally prettier than a Victoria’s Secret model. But because they had it all figured out. Tom was going to stay here, and Jadie was going to stay here, and there were no obstacles in their future. They wanted the same things. The path was clear for them.
Ainsley swaggered toward Alex, not Daniel, passing by her so-called boyfriend and placing a hand on my boyfriend’s chest.
“You looked good out there.” She winked.
“Eat a bag of dicks, Ains,” Alex greeted not-so politely, shoving her hand away. He turned around, searching for me. When he saw me, he broke into a goofy, boyish smile. I walked over to him. He scooped me up in a hug, kissing my mouth urgently.
“How’d we do?” he asked, putting me back on the floor gently.
“Amazing,” I groaned into another kiss. “You just became hotter. And I didn’t think it was possible.”
“Barf,” I heard a voice behind me.
Alex and I both turned around to see Ryan standing there, arms crossed over his chest, glaring daggers at Alex.
Tom immediately stood up from the couch, ready to dismantle the situation, and Daniel followed.
“Hey,” Tom said, “we’re going to have to take a deep breath here, okay?”
Alex shook his head, resolute.
“I’m not playing with him again. I said what I fucking said. You either find a new bass player or a new drummer. If it’s the latter, find a fucking place to practice, too.”
Tom groaned, but to my amazement, he wasn’t arguing with Alex on that point.
“I told you, Al, we need to find a replacement first.”
