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"I wouldn't call it paradise, but yes she's pissed at me. And at Strike." I peered back between the seats to where the lead singer sat with Jett. He was talking about something and Jett was nodding politely. I was almost certain Strike heard me say his name. He never missed it. Either he was ignoring me or he was more engaged in his conversation than mine.
A lot of other guys wouldn't have any sympathy for me. They probably would have patted me on the shoulder to commiserate, then made a joke about them having a shot with Hayley. Or not a joke. They might assume because she went there with one of us, that she was fair game from now on.
Not Nate though. He looked genuinely sympathetic, but then he said, "I dunno, maybe it's for the best. You being with her would be like Harper or Ripley sleeping with Roman."
I stared at him blankly.
"Like, he's busy enough without the distraction," he explained. "And people would arc up about preferential treatment and such. Even though Roman wouldn't put anyone above anyone else. You know?"
"Yeah, I know," I said. "But Hales isn't going to book me more publicity than the rest of you guys is she? Who cares about the bass player?"
"Same folk who care about the saxophone player," he said. "But just because she wouldn't do that, doesn't mean people wouldn't say it. And you know what else? I don't figure girls like her want to be in the spotlight. If they know about you two, that's gonna be what happens. People are gonna start paying attention to her and maybe that spooked her."
He reclined his seat a little. "You only have to see her reaction to Strike grinning at her like a festival clown to know she doesn't want to be noticed. Sometimes it's enough to be near the spotlight, not in it."
"Are you speaking from experience?" I asked.
"I'm not an official Rock Dragon, am I?" he replied.
"No, you are not," I agreed. "Is that why? So you can avoid the limelight?"
"I don't always get invited to take part in interviews, do I?" He crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm sure we could arrange that." I copied his pose. "I know a girl." If she'd ever talk to me again.
"Let's don't, but say you did." He nodded firmly.
"I won't, because I like you," I said. "You really think that's all that's going on? She's worried about being famous?"
"For the wrong reasons," he agreed. "You wouldn’t want to be famous because of who you slept with, would you?"
"No," I said. "But plenty of people sleep with famous people because that's exactly what they want. Their fifteen minutes of fame." Was that even that long these days? Fame seemed to come and go faster than the tide.
"Plenty of famous people don't mind then doing that," he said. He slowly raised an eyebrow at me.
I raised one back at him. "It's not like I interview women before I sleep with them." I put on a funny voice and said, "Excuse me, ma'am, why would you like to be intimate with me tonight?"
In my normal voice I said, "Should I make it multiple-choice? Are you looking for a, fame, b, company or c, you just think I'm irresistible?"
"D, none of the above," Strike said. At some point he'd stood up and was now hanging over the back of my seat, listening.
I flipped him off without looking back. "You said, ‘all of the above,’ wrong."
He laughed. "I love you, bro, but not even for fame would I sleep with you."
"Right back at you," I said. "Not for your company either. And for the record, I don't find you irresistible." I looked over my shoulder at him and grinned.
"See, I don't buy that," he said slowly. "Everyone knows I'm irresistible." He wiggled his brows.
"What they actually said was irritating," Jude said from across the aisle. He grinned over at us.
"That sounds accurate," I said. "For one thing, you can't keep your mouth closed."
"I didn't say a word," Strike argued.
"You didn't have to," I said. "You were about as subtle as a pimple on my ass."
Strike grimaced. "Bro, we don't need to hear about pimples on your butt."
