I glanced around. “Seats in this section must cost a lot.”
Our elevated area afforded prime sight lines to the raised stage. Around us were at least ten double-couch seating groups like ours, and they were all filled. The VIP section even had its own bar. It was smaller than the main one that ran the entire length of the lower level, but the ebony countertop, hammered-steel side panels, and cool blue up-lighting were the same.
“How’d you manage to get us up here?” I asked.
“The owner owes my dad a favor,” Collin said, shifting as he averted his gaze.
“That’s what got us in the door free.” Andy leaned back and stretched his arms across the back of the couch. “It’s the owner’s sister having a thing for Collin that got us up here.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Collin said, glancing around. “It’s only for tonight. Martin doesn’t like Miranda giving away freebies.”
“Don’t be paranoid. Martin’s not here tonight, and I plan to enjoy myself.” Andy draped his arm around my sister’s shoulders. “You should relax too.” He gave Collin a pointed look. “You have what you wanted, yeah?”
Collin glanced at me. “Sure, but . . .”
“No buts.” Andy stood. “You girls thirsty?”
“I could use a water,” I said.
Rachel scooted closer to me. “Water would be great.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” Andy hooked his thumb toward the bar. “The waitress should come by soon and bring us a bucket of bottled ones on ice, but with a crowd this big, that might take a while. I’ll grab us some to tide us over.”
“So,” Rachel said, looking at Collin as Andy moved away. “Do you come into Winston’s often?”
“A fair bit,” Collin said, then glanced at the stage as the recorded music stopped and a tech appeared to do a sound check.
Taking advantage of his distraction, I stared. Collin’s strong nose and steely jaw were as compelling as the rest of him.
Shifting his attention back to us, he caught me staring. I blushed as his eyes held mine, feeling more than just physically exposed with his silver gaze seeming to see right through to my soul.
Did he know I had a crush on him? That being kissed by him was one of my deepest desires? That I’d been infatuated with him since we started high school?
Nervous, I looked away and swallowed to moisten my dry throat.
“Here you go.” Andy returned and set a bottled water on the table in front of me and another in front of Rachel.
I managed to pull in a breath as he tossed another to Collin.
Andy brushed past me to reclaim his space on the couch between Rachel and me. “Did you ask her?”
“No, asshole.” Collin sighed. “I was working up to it.”
“Ask who what?” I glanced back and forth between the two best friends.
“Rach.” Collin leaned forward. Focusing on her, he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his jean-clad knees. “We want you to consider being part of a band Andy and I are starting.”
“What band?” my sister asked, her eyes suddenly glowing as brightly as the up-lit bar.
“No official name. Not yet. So far, it’s just me and Andy. We’ve done a couple of songs here at Winston’s. People seem to dig what we’re doing. We’re playing an acoustic number tonight before the headliners.”
“That’s cool. But . . .” My sister glanced over at me.
Realizing what this night was—an opportunity to recruit my sister for their band—simply reinforced my standing as a tagalong. My stomach rolled as embarrassment flooded through me.
“I think a band is a really cool idea,” I managed to say with effort, blinking away the sting of disappointment in my eyes. “You’re a great guitarist.” I glanced at Collin, finding his expression unreadable. “Rach is fantastic on anything with strings, and keyboards too. On vocals, she’s exceptional. The two of you together would be a winning combination.”
“I’m lead vocals,” Andy said, his expression stony. “We want Rach for harmony and her skill on those instruments you mentioned.”
“What Andy means”—Collin shook his head at his friend—“is that he’s shit on strings. I’ve been trying to teach him rhythm guitar, but at this stage it’s just a challenge. Positions within the group are probably gonna be fluid until we figure it all out.”
“I didn’t know you sang.” Giving Andy a considering look, Rachel tilted her head.
“He’s a tenor,” I said, remembering his solo at the school Christmas show. Rachel had been out sick. “He has range. He sings falsetto pretty well, or he does at work when he’s washing dishes.”
Collin turned to me, his silvery eyes wide with surprise. “You seem to know a lot about it.”
“I love music.” I shrugged as if that weren’t a big deal.
His gaze dipped to my chest, making my breasts feel heavy and my nipples tingle beneath the fabric stretched across them.
“Addy’s being modest,” Rachel said. “She has an ear for music. I run my songs by her before I even consider performing them.”
“It’s nothing, really.” I shook my head at my sister. “I just know what I like.”
Rachel frowned at me. “You know when something’s missing or off. That’s not nothing. It’s something you can’t be taught, Addy.”
I didn’t argue with her, but it wasn’t like that was a marketable skill.
Shifting my attention to Andy, I said, “Your voice would blend well with hers.”
My heart raced as I got excited, imagining them singing together. Making it in music was one of Rachel’s deepest desires. I wanted that for her more than I wanted Collin for me.
“And your falsetto would improve,” I added, “if Rach showed you some of those deep-breathing techniques she uses.”
Rachel nodded. “I could do that.”
Way back before things went bad with my parents, our father had encouraged her. She’d had voice lessons, and he bought her a guitar.
“So . . . yes, you’re in?” Andy asked, arching one of his dark blond brows.
“I’m considering it,” Rachel said, glancing at me.
“Green and Murphy.” A waitress appeared wearing a short skirt, fishnet stockings, and a black crop top with Winston’s in silver piping across her chest like all the other female staff. “Stage manager sent me to fetch you. You’re up.”
“Roger that.” Andy stood and squeezed my sister’s shoulder. “Pay attention, Rach. We’re gonna blow your mind.”
“What song are you doing?” I asked, unable to keep the thrill of excitement from my voice.
“‘Everlong,’” Collin said.
Holy shit. The new Foo Fighters’ song from The Colour and the Shape album. I was so excited to hear it performed live that I almost didn’t care anymore that I was just a tagalong.
“Talk afterward?” Collin asked, his gaze on my sister.
“Sure,” Rachel said.
Collin pointed at me. “You too, Ears?”
“I don’t know—”