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Me:Me too. Can’t wait.
As I put my phone away, Jordyn tugs on my arm.
“What?” I lean close and yell over the music.
“My hormones might have me hallucinating…” she speaks loudly next to my ear, “but I think I see the man of my wet dreams behind you.”
“Who?”
“Stiles. Who else?”
No! My head spins in that direction. My blood rages. Damn Mick. It is Stiles. We hold eye contact. His stare is indecipherable. I’m sure he can read in mine that I’m pissed.
“Oooh.” Jordyn jostles me. “He’s looking at us.” She sends him a rolling finger wave.
Stiles doesn’t respond.
“Did you see his reaction?” she asks with more enthusiasm than is warranted.
“He ignored you.”
“No, hepretendedto ignore me.”
“Lay off,” I snap. “He’s on duty so just leave him alone.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes are probing and full of concern. “What just happened?”
I’m incensed that Mick would send Stiles inside to watch over me—by him exerting his control while still keeping his distance. But that’s not on Jordyn.
“Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’ll tell you about it later. I want to enjoy the rest of the night without thinking about bodyguards or anything else.”
She quickly sets aside her own confusion and slings an arm around me. “I’m your girl for that. We’ll party hard and forget all about Tall and Tempting.”
A nearly impossible task, but I appreciate the sentiment. Since Lexie hasn’t met Stiles she’s oblivious to the man sticking close like a guardian shadow, his demeanor markedly vigilant.
When Frankie’s Brides take to the stage, my mind disengages and I scream for Lena. Punk rock isn’t my kind of music, but their energy is on fire and the crowd’s frenzy is contagious. The lead singer in a dark veil has a great raspy voice and her interactive style is entertaining. But it’s Lena with her extra spiky mohawk, dressed in a grunge satin gown and long fingerless gloves who steals the show. Her drum solo is mind-blowing. She’s seriously badass and the audience eats it up. I couldn’t be happier for her.
We stay until after the band completes their set to have a celebratory drink. Lena’s sailing on a high. I give her hugs and praise. She introduces us to all four of the female members of Frankie’s Brides and to her partner of six months, Adam. I’d briefly met him once when he’d picked her up at work but she talks about him a lot. They are adorable together. Affectionate and really into each other. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling a little envious.
Before the headliner comes on, we say our good-byes and we’re back in the limo by ten-thirty. Without much food absorption, that last Crantini hits my system with more impact than it should. The interior of the limo sways briefly then stops, my world comes back into focus. My problems, still there.
“That was actually fun,” Lexie says as Bernard pulls away from the club. “It’s still early. We could stop off at a bar or another club, if you two feel up to it.”
“Sorry. Count me out.” I uncap a bottle of water for a sip. “But you guys go for it. Use the limo.”
“You’re not feeling well?” Lexie looks at me. “You didn’t have that much to drink.”
“It’s not that.”
“It was seeing Stiles at the club,” Jordyn puts in.
“That was Stiles?!” Lexie exclaims. “The big, bald guy with the goatee that I saw near you the entire night?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Why would you be upset about seeing Stiles?”
“Because…” My frustration mounting once again, I blurt out: “I don’t get why Mick is still protecting me from the press if he’s dumped me.”
