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I just jerk my head to the bar and say, “Come on. Wanna show you something.”
He eyes me cautiously, and I don’t wait around for the twenty questions he’d probably ask before agreeing. I just turn away, resisting the urge to grab his arm and tug him along, trusting that his curiosity will out-win his wariness or whatever.
It usually does.
And this time is no different.
“Hemorrhage (In My Hands)” by Fuel thumps from the speakers, warring with the clang of bottles and white noise of chatter.
I sense him sticking close to me as I weave us toward the furthest corner of the bar, the one closest to the stage where Shawn is currently sipping a water, and staring down at his phone.
“Hey,” I say, when I’m within hearing range.
He lifts his head, and his gaze darts from me to the figure behind me. Stepping to the side, I let Jeremy slide between me and the bar stool currently unoccupied.
I quickly introduce them, not at all surprised when all Shawn gives Jeremy is a short nod. Jeremy knows all about Shawn’s…lack of manners, at this point, so he doesn’t take it too personally when the guy goes right back to staring down at his phone, pointedly pretending he’s busy.
I glance at Jeremy, and arch a brow, pointing toward the mirror along the back of the bar. “Look.”
Frowning, he follows my finger, and rather than look for myself, I watch his expression when he sees it.
His lips part, and his gaze snaps to mine. “A…a rainbow flag?
I nod.
It’s just a small one—nothing crazy—but I made sure there’s no missing it behind a row of liquor bottles next to our right to refusal to serve sign.
The noise level spikes as the song switches over to “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon, making it so I have to press closer to Jeremy, and lean down into his ear for him to hear me. “I know coming back to Shiloh is hard for you. But I want you to know you have a place here. Somewhere safe to be yourself.”
An eerie stillness falls over him.
Pulling back, I meet his furrowed gaze.
Shrugging, I suck my lip ring into my mouth, nibbling on it. I got it on a whim last month when Waylon decided to pierce his nipple.
Jeremy’s gaze drops, and for a brief, sharp moment, I swear the world tilts on its axis.
But then he’s looking away, and rubbing his neck, and I’m certain I just imagined whatever the fuck that was.
Obviously it caught his eye. And from the looks of it, I’m not the only one who decided to poke holes in my body.
“You pierced your ear,” I blurt.
His gaze springs back to mine, and he lifts his hand, long nimble fingers brushing the shell of his right ear. “Yeah…” He flings a hand in the direction of my face. “And you pierced your lip.”
I nod. “And your hair…”
He rolls his lips together and nods.
“It’s…it’s nice.”
Wow.
I cringe at the same time he masks a snort with a cough. Cheeks red, he looks down at the ground between us, and I’m distantly aware of eyes watching us.
But when I look over at Shawn, he’s glaring down at his phone, so maybe I just imagined that too.
Fuck, what’s wrong with me tonight?
