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“Back to his room to party with them?” I repeat lamely, torn between being happy that I’m getting more information for my assignment and seriously worried about the amount of sleep I’ll be getting this week since my room is right next to his.
In the end, I decide to focus on my assignment. If I have to sleep during the day, I’ll do it. Vincent’s nighttime activities are what people are worried about, so it’s then that I’ll have to be on him.
“Does he do this often?” I ask my brother, aware that Adrian is listening to us even if his eyes are glued to the action happening at the bar.
He slowly brings his gaze to mine, still distracted but obviously interested in our conversation as well. “It’s what he does every night. He’s having fun. Being young. He won’t hook up with all of them. He’s not stupid. James is just bitter because the last time we went out with him, the girl he wanted chose Vince to go back to the hotel with, and he thinks it’s because Vincent spoke to them first and for the longest. The thing is her friends also went back to his room. They had a few drinks there. Then she left. Vince wouldn’t touch her because he knew James had a crush on her.”
“This is what he does every night? Gosh. That just seems tedious to me.”
Mason chuckles. “All he wants is company. I think he’s been feeling lonely since Maxim’s attention has been mostly on Emma.”
“You’re all around. He’s got company,” I reason. “Also, Maxim’s his brother, not his keeper. He couldn’t really have expected him to be attached to his hip forever.”
“No, it’s not like that.” He pulls a face at me. “Everything doesn’t have to always be in the extreme, Livvy. He didn’t expect Maxim to never pay attention to anyone else and to be with him forever, but Max is his best friend, and we think he’s trying to fill the void.”
“By hooking up with a different girl every night and drinking himself into oblivion?” I arch both my brows at them. “That’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”
Adrian studies me before he bows his head. “We know, but we don’t think he even thinks of it as a coping mechanism. It’s just… him having fun and trying to live his own life.”
“Is that what he said?” I ask, turning it all over in my mind.
The guys exchange a look before Mason sighs and shakes his head. “He hasn’t said anything other than there’s nothing to talk about. You need to understand. What he’s doing isn’t wrong. He’s not cheating on anyone or getting lost in an alcoholic haze where no one can find him for days after. He goes out, has a few drinks, meets some new people, brings them back to the hotel we’re staying in, and then wakes up the next morning and does his job.”
“And he does it well,” Adrian adds. “The fact is he’s not doing anything thousands of young twenty-somethings around the world aren’t doing every night. He’s just doing it while on tour with his parents and all their friends. Makes it difficult to do it unnoticed.”
Since I want them to keep talking, I don’t want to come across as too judgmental even if I think all they’re doing is making excuses for his behavior. “Are you guys really not worried about him, then? You’re the ones who go out with him most often. I know you don’t do it every night and I know you don’t stay out until the early hours of the morning like he does, but you see him in action the most.”
Adrian’s gaze flicks up when the light in my periphery changes, an expression of pleasant surprise settling on his face as he sits back and doesn’t move his eyes. I glance over, realizing that the light changing was the channel on the TV mounted against the wall being turned to a ballgame. Since he’s a bit of a sports fanatic, it’s not strange that I’ve lost him to the TV now that a game is on.
Mason chuckles. “Are you at least going to finish the conversation before you zone out on us?”
He glances back at us, shrugging before moving his gaze back to the TV. “There’s nothing more to say about it. Vince is right. He’s just having fun. And so are we. Every last one of us does exactly what we want, exactly when we want, so why should he be any different? Am I worried about him? Sure. Sometimes, but not all the time. I don’t think we should be talking about this anyway.”
A huff of frustrated breath escapes my nostrils, but the sound is drowned out by the music, and neither of the guys seems to notice it. Clearly, that’s the last Adrian’s going to say on the subject. He leans back in his chair with his beer in hand, turning his full attention to the game.
Mason looks back at me and gives me a bright smile. “He’s right. Let’s not talk about this anymore. Would you like something else to drink? You’ve barely touched your beer.”
When I glance at his glass, I realize it’s nearly empty. So is Adrian’s. Since I’m determined to keep my liver functioning despite my assignment, I shake my head. “I just don’t drink as fast as you do. Go ahead and grab some more. I’ll catch up to you on the next round.”
My brother nods, but when he reaches the bar, Vincent slings his arm around his shoulders and pulls him into their group. They talk for a few moments. Then all three of the guys break away and come over to the table with Vincent leading them.
“We’re going to the next pub now. The girls know a nice place not too far from here.” He glances at me. “If you want to go back to the hotel—”
“No, I’m fine, but thanks for the offer. Where are we going?” I leave my full beer on the table and get up, grabbing my purse before realizing Adrian doesn’t seem to have heard him. “We’re leaving. Are you coming?”
Tearing his gaze away from the TV briefly, he looks at me, and I can see the apology in his eyes as he shakes his head. “I’m staying put. I’m exhausted anyway. After the game, I think I’ll head to bed. You guys have fun, though.”
And that’s how we lose the first one. We lose Mason after the next bar when, having tried to keep up with the others on shots of tequila, he waves his hands at me with his eyes all unfocused. “The jet lag isn’t mixing well with the alcohol. I better go back before anyone has to carry me. You want to come with me?”
More than anything. But I don’t say it. “I think I’ll hang around and see where the wind blows us next. It’s very interesting to me to see what you guys get up to night after night.”
Also, I need to find a way to get Vincent to say he’s going back to the hotel. I can’t duck out on the first night of my first real assignment.
My brother seems worried, but not enough to hang around. It’s a wise decision, though. I’m strangely proud of him. Once he’s gone, we move to the next place, and by the time we arrive, the makeshift dance floor in the center of the room is packed.
James drags a small blonde he zeroed in on at the Irish bar into the fray, and she looks up at him like he’s all her dreams come true as he pulls her into his arms and starts to move. The way they’re dancing quickly becomes too intimate to watch, and I shift in my seat to turn my attention on my target. He’s still in the middle of the pack of girls, his dark-blond hair shimmering with blue neon light as he throws his head back to laugh before his arms go up in the air and he moves his hips seductively.
Vincent seems to be different here in what seems to have become his natural habitat. A lot more relaxed. Making a mental note to tell my dad that I think we need to look into why he’s so stressed at the hotel when he seems so much happier here, I take a sip of my club soda and resign myself to hanging out by myself for the rest of the night.
