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She’s so tiny I feel like a giant sitting beside her. And she’s young, early twenties would be my guess, but I can tell she’s a no-nonsense type, and I like that in a person. I smile back at her in greeting.
“Yes, that’s me. Hi, it’s nice to meet you, too.”
“I thought I’d pop in and see if you wanted to hang out for a bit. There’s a lot of sitting around and waiting when the guys are rehearsing. Lots of stopping and starting. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Sure.” I nod, smiling at her. Brinley smiles back at me, and, god, her smile is absolutely stunning. She’s one of them, the gorgeous people. “And thank you. That’s so nice of you.”
“These things can get a little boring sometimes, especially when the guys are in meetings. Once they start playing it’s actually pretty cool, but otherwise it’s a total snore fest.”
“Are you a musician?”
A small laugh bubbles up from her chest as she tucks a strand of shoulder length hair back behind her ears. “I sing, yeah. And I play guitar. I write songs, so, I guess I am, yeah… sorry; it still sounds weird saying it out loud. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to make music a full-time career recently. It hasn’t always been like that, trust me. The thought still blows my mind.”
Reed suddenly calls out her name, making her look up toward the front of the stage. His smile is all crooked and disturbingly sexy, and then he waves a thick arm in the air that looks like a freaking tree trunk. A colorful, tattooed tree trunk.
“Hey, baby,” Brinley calls back, blowing him a kiss that he pretends to catch, and then he…oh, my, he plants the kiss right there on his groin, cupping his junk in a tight grip while tonguing the silver ring in his bottom lip.
“You’re disgusting,” she mouths.
The guys all crack up laughing and then move to their own areas on the stage. Looks like the meeting is finally over, thank goodness, and I watch on with fresh interest as Kael and Quinn pick up their guitars, strumming the strings, talking to each other quietly while Reed adjusts the microphone at the very front of the stage, and Jaxon sits behind a shiny black drum kit, rolling his wrists and stretching out his neck.
“So, Nick tells me you’re Kael’s therapist.” Brinley sits up a little straighter, tucking one leg up under the other, turning toward me. “What’s it like dating a recovering alcoholic?”
My mind scrambles, and I swear I choke on my own spit. So ladylike. I cough, tying to clear my throat. “We’re not… what makes… no, uh, no we’re definitely not dating.”
She gives me a long look that I try hard to ignore. But she’s not buying it, and she doesn’t look at all pleased. “Oh, come on, I can see it written all over your face. You’re totally into him, aren’t you?”
“How long have you and Reed been dating?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“A couple of months, officially. Before that, we were just kind of hanging out. It was complicated.” She shakes her head and laughs. “And good try. Now, give me all the details, please?”
“What’s with the inquisition?” My laugh is all nervous like, and undoubtedly as transparent as glass. “We’re just friends. Nothing more. He’s a good guy under all the mess.”
“Oh. Okay.” She looks vastly disappointed.
“What’s it like actually dating one of these guys?”
“It can be tough sometimes; it’s not always smooth sailing. You don’t get a lot of privacy in this industry. Reed’s really good with his fans, the paparazzi, not so much.”
“I’ve heard they can be a nightmare.”
“It’s a game to them. I think they forget the guys are real people, with real problems, and real lives.”
“Hmm,” I muse softly.
“Hey, the coffee’s terrible here,” she suddenly says, screwing up her nose as she peers across the room at the refreshment table. “I think Dee does it deliberately. Have you met Dee yet? She’s a treasure.”
We both start quietly laughing.
“Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?” she suggests, nudging me with her elbow. “Like in a real coffee shop. Only if you want, of course. I don’t have a lot of friends in the city. Notgirlfriends at least. It would be nice to have a real conversation sometime, with someone who has a…” She pauses, waving her hand around. “A vagina, say.”
“I have one of those.”
“Awesome!” she bursts out laughing just as Reed starts humming a few bars, warming up his vocal chords. “So, this thing with you and Kael, is it serious?”
“What?” I scoff derisively, but it comes out as a snort. From my nose. Great. That’s impressive. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because the whole time I’ve been talking to you, you haven’t taken your eyes off the bass player extraordinaire, Mr. Jenkins himself. I think you like him a whole lot more than you’re letting on. Here I’ll prove it to you.” Brinley slams her eyes shut, squeezing them tightly so little lines appear at the corners. “What color are my eyes? I bet you can’t—”
