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“You made a point to make sure Jack wouldn’t be here but neglected to check the band line up?” Adam mutters to Wade, clearly exasperated. Wade shrinks away from him, seeing the error in that one detail.
Keelin looks at me indifferently, but I can see the hurt behind his eyes.
“Look, Keelin, I know I left without…” I start to explain but he cuts me off.
“You don’t owe me an explanation. It was just a one night thing, right?” He blows it off.
“You slept with him?” Adam turns to me.
I shrug. “I was in a bad place,” I mutter, and Keelin looks offended.
Now knowing their history, I feel like I’ve crossed enemy lines.
“That’s sort of your thing right?” Keelin says to me. “Sleeping with band members?”
“Keelin!” Rob chastises him and then looks at me with apologetic eyes.
I narrow my eyes at Keelin and then hold my hand out to stop Wade from moving forward. “Your dick has been in more groupies than I can count. Don’t forget, we were on tour together,” I raise my eyebrows, “So don’t pass judgment on me, especially because I didn’t want to stick around after.”
“Burned,” Rob sings, and Keelin glares at him.
I always did like Rob better; he doesn’t get into the drama, and if I had to guess, he was probably neutral when Adam wanted to change things up with the band.
“None of my groupies broke up the band,” he counters.
“No, just your attitude,” Adam interjects.
Keelin squares his shoulders. “You guys should stick around to see how a real front man does it.” The smirk Keelin gives Adam is enough to make Adam lunge for him.
In an instant, the room is in chaos and both men are on the floor, Rob trying to pull Keelin away, and Wade trying to pull Adam off. They wrestle on the floor for what feels like ten minutes before a very large bouncer grabs Adam by his arm and drags him out the door. Wade and I trail after him. I don’t see where they are taking Keelin, but I’m sure it’s backstage so they can keep them separated. A fight inside the club is less public than one outside the club, and they don’t want that kind of publicity.
Out on the street, Adam shakes himself loose from the bouncer who lazily walks back into the club. Adam looks down at his clothes and runs his hands down his jeans.
“Jesus fuck! There are scuff marks on my shoes.” He kicks each foot up and inspects them.
“Is he gonna cry?” I ask Wade.
“I’m not in the mood for your shit, Mia,” Adam says angrily.
“He’s totally gonna cry,” I confirm.
“I hate that guy.” Adam stomps away from us.
Wade puts a hand on his shoulder. “Wait up.”
“Thanks for getting me out tonight. I had an awesome time,” I smile sarcastically at both Adam and Wade.
Wade shakes his head at me and then turns his attention back to Adam who is still seething.
“I can’t believe you slept with that asshole,” Adam mutters and shakes his head at me.
“In my defense, I didn’t know until after I slept with him that you had left the band, and also because I was on Molly,” I pause, “The first time,” I correct.
Adam turns to me. “You fucked him more than once?” he asks incredulously.
“Does fingering count?” I scrunch my nose and then look at Wade for confirmation. He shrugs, the universal sign for how do I know? “Okay then, just twice,” counting the elevator and then the next morning.
I try to joke about the situation because if I really think about what I did, there’s just no excuse.
