Violet looks at me sympathetically. I guess I shouldn’t have said that last thing to her, but I’m sure it didn’t come as a surprise.
Before Violet’s replied to me, Dax enters the playroom with Colin and Fish, saying he’s secured someone named Amalia to come babysit. “Amalia said she’s on her way.”
“Oh, fantastic. Thanks, babe.” Violet hops up and kisses her husband. “Amy volunteered herself as tribute to watch Jackson, so I could go to the party, and I’m embarrassed to say I was considering it.” She smiles down at me on the floor. “Thank you for offering, Ames.”
“I was being sincere. Please, take me up on the offer another time. I’ll hopefully be living in LA. I’d love to help you, whenever I can.”
Violet smiles broadly at me. “You’re such a sweetheart.”
“I wouldn’t have let you or Amy stay behind,” Dax says to his wife. “I’d have stayed home with Action Jackson before letting either of you miss the party. In fact, . . .”
“No, Daxy,” Violet says. “You’re coming to the party.” She looks at me. “He always thinks he’ll hate every party, and then he always winds up having a blast.”
“Yeah, we couldn’t have let Amy stay behind, anyway,” Fish says. “Colin needs Amy to show up with him to keep things from being awkward.”
My brows knitted together, I look at Colin, not understanding Fish’s comment. When Colin’s eyes meet mine, the guilty, pissed look on his face tells me Fish just spilled the beans on something Colin fervently wishes he hadn’t. When Colin says nothing, I shift my gaze to Fish. The bean spiller.
“What about me coming to the party with Colin would make things less awkward for him?” I demand. And when Fish gapes like a fish on a line in reply—like a Matthew Fishberger on a line—I look around the group for edification. “What am I missing?” I look at Colin again and gasp with my epiphany. “You dated Laila Fitzgerald?”
“No, no,” Colin says, waving at the air. “Laila and I are friends and nothing more. We’ve never even kissed.”
I narrow my eyes. The air in the playroom feels thick. There’s obviously something Colin’s not telling me, and his friends are maintaining their silence, so that Colin will be the one to explain it to me. “Colin, tell me what’s going on.”
Colin rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing. Last month, I saw Laila, by chance, at a few different parties and events, including when I shot my episode of Sing Your Heart Out. That day, I wound up telling Laila I’d maybe be interested in starting something with her, if she was interested, and she told me, thanks but no thanks. She said she’s not interested in me as more than a friend, regardless, but also that she had a new boyfriend. Savage. Unfortunately, he came into the dressing room where Laila and I were talking and immediately jumped to some conclusions that weren’t right. It was a bit heated for a second there, but I explained I didn’t know about their relationship and that Laila had just turned me down. And that was it. All good. No biggie.”
I stare at Colin for a long beat, mentally carving my initials into his tattooed chest, while simultaneously feeling weirdly rejected and humiliated. Of course, Colin went after Laila Fitzgerald after his breakup with that gorgeous dancer! Of course, he thought a glamorous popstar is the kind of woman he belongs with, given who he’s become!
Colin rolls his eyes at whatever he sees on my face. “Amy, don’t think twice about this, okay? Laila and I are friends. We’re signed to the same label. I was newly single and heartbroken, and I figured, Why not see if something could happen here? But I’ve never even kissed Laila and I’m certainly not sitting around pining for her, if that’s what you think.”
“Why would I care if you’re pining for Laila?” I say. “We’re nothing but friends, right? You can pine for whoever you want. It’s none of my business.”
The group collectively shifts their weight. Some people look at the ground. Others shoot death-glares at Colin. Some simply clear their throats. But every single person looks painfully uncomfortable.
Fish speaks first. “Tonight’s the first time our group will be hanging out with Savage and Laila, as a couple, so Colin figured—”
“I know what he figured,” I say. “That it’d make things less awkward if he showed up tonight with a date.” I gasp, as yet another epiphany strikes. “The ‘date’ he was seen canoodling with on Instagram last weekend!”
Colin glares at Fish. And that’s how I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. And that makes me seethe. How dare Colin let me think he was the saint who invited me to Laila’s party as a favor to me, the saint who posted that photo to make Nate feel like an asshole, when, in reality, Colin was using me to smooth over his humiliation at the hands of Laila, the whole time!
In response to me glaring at Colin, and Colin therefore glaring at him, Fish throws up his arms and shouts at Colin, “How was I supposed to know you hadn’t told her?”
“Don’t you dare be angry with Fish for telling me the truth,” I say to Colin. “He didn’t blow it by being honest with me. You blew it by not being honest.”
“I didn’t mention it because the main reason I invited you to the party was to help you. So why mention I was also incidentally getting a benefit out of it, too?”
“Because you manipulated me!” I whisper-shout, so as not to scare little Jackson. “Because if I’m truly your friend, then you should have trusted me to want to help you! Frankly, I’m relieved to hear you’re getting something out of bringing me tonight, because it means I don’t owe you nearly as much as I thought. The fact that you don’t know I’m dying to be of service to you, to finally do something nice for you, the way you always do nice stuff for me, is what pisses me off the most, Colin. You thought you had to manipulate me to do your bidding, when all you had to do was ask.”
Violet, Fish, and Alessandra are all looking at me like, You tell him, girlie, while Dax is looking at Colin, like, Dumbass. Which means there’s not a single facial expression in the group that makes me feel like I’m out of line or overreacting. And so, I persist.
“As a favor to you, I’ll play the part of your ‘date’ tonight, when we arrive at the party. And I’ll keep doing it until we’re sure Laila and Savage have seen us together. But after that, all bets will be off, my friend. After that, I’m going to mingle like the extremely single woman I am. Who knows? I might even meet a nice drummer who has a thing for redheads.” As Colin’s jaw muscles pulse, I turn to Violet and Alessandra, both of whom look positively delighted. “Would you ladies join me in the kitchen, while we wait for the babysitter? All of a sudden, I feel like doing a couple shots.”
Fifteen
Colin
I’m a flaming pyre as I watch Amy chatting across the crowded party with none other than Kendrick Cook, the broad-shouldered, easy-going drummer of Fugitive Summer, the band whose song “Hate Sex High” is currently number one in the world.
I keep telling myself I’m feeling nothing but protectiveness, not jealousy, in this moment—as any good big brother would feel while watching a handsome, muscular, wildly successful musician flirting with his little sister. I keep telling myself I’m watching out for Amy the way I did when we were kids. The way I did when that groomsman, Luke, hit on her at the wedding. But it’s a hard sell, given what I know about Kendrick. Despite his looks and success, he’s as far from a douchebag as a man can get—which means he’s objectively a perfect fit for Amy, if I were trying to set her up with a friend.