“I mean, yeah. I’ve only dated one, only slept with one. That’s the whole point of all of this.”
“Those things don’t always mean the same thing.”
My cheeks colored. “They do for me.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” he insisted. “Only do what you’re comfortable with tonight. Just try to have fun and don’t think too much.”
Easier said than done.
10
Weston
Nora struck out the first hour, but when she was finishing up her first drink, she started talking to a new guy. I knew it was the one she was going to practice on based solely on the fact that her shoulders were no longer up to her ears. She almost looked relaxed.
I clenched my jaw.
This was what I’d wanted. This was what we’d planned for. This was the entire reason we were here.
I knew the owner of the speakeasy. I knew the bartenders were trained to spot anyone suspicious. They looked out for girls who were there and were fastidious about safety. That was why I’d thought it would be an okay place to start. The kind of guy who would come here was leagues different than the idiots we’d first started with.
But somehow, now that she was talking to a guy in a suit and tie with his blond hair spiked in the front and a million-dollar smile, it all became real. And I didn’t like it.
“You look like you could use this,” the bartender said, sliding a shot toward me.
“Thanks, Layla,” I said with a nod.
Layla had been working here for a few years. We’d become friends in those first few months when I came to the city and played the keys in here to pass the time.
“So, who’s the girl?”
“My roommate.”
She grimaced. “Rough, man.”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Do you know the guy she’s talking to?”
“Bryan something,” she said with a nod. “He’s in here a lot. Tips well.”
The important thing.
“You going to watch her talk to other guys all night?”
I was. That was the plan at least.
I hadn’t considered how frustrated I’d get by the process. This was what I should be doing. It was the right thing to do. I was helping her get over August. Bringing her out of her shell. And it wasn’t like we could do anything. I still couldn’t stop the beat racketing through my chest.
“I guess I am,” I told her.
“Well, drinks on me then. You’re a good guy, West.”
A good guy. That was who I’d always been. Until those six months in LA when I’d let loose with the band. I could spin Nora Abbey so hard if I wanted to. I could break all the rules and have her in my arms by the end of the night. But I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t want to be that guy.
Even if the way she’d looked, twirling around in her little dresses, made me think all sorts of filthy thoughts about her. Had she known she was driving me insane with every spin? Fuck.
Nora flashed the guy another smile. They’d been talking for a half hour. Jesus Christ, I didn’t want to sit here and watch this.
I messed around on my phone, texting with Whitt for a while until, suddenly, Nora was standing before me again.
I breathed a sigh of relief. It must have fallen apart somewhere. We could work on it a different night.
“Hey,” she said buoyantly.
“How’s it going?”
She grinned. “Good. You were right. This is easier than I thought.”
“Oh really?” My eyes drifted back to where Bryan something was seated with a group of his friends. He was looking right at us. He didn’t seem particularly pleased that she was now talking to me.
“Yeah. I already knew Bryan. He and I had a class together at Tech my senior year. I’d completely forgotten about it until he mentioned it.”
Her senior year. Which meant she’d been with August. Made sense that she hadn’t noticed the guy, but that he’d noticed her.
“Plus, you see the redhead? That’s Jana. She used to run tours at Wright Vineyard for a while.”
With Tamara was implied but not said.
“Well, that’s good.”
“And they—well, Bryan, asked if I wanted to hop to Funky Door with them for cocktails.” She did a little jig, like she’d won the lottery. “That’s good, right?”
“It is. You still planning to come home tonight?”
Her eyes flicked back to Bryan’s. He smiled brilliantly at her.
“Definitely. I’m not…well, you know.” She flushed. “Anyway, you don’t have to follow us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll practice the rest of the night. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, right?”
I nodded. Even though I wanted to tell her there was no fucking way that she was going to a different bar with this douche. But I’d set her on this path. It would be crazy for me to do that now.
“It is, but are you sure that you feel safe with them?”
“Yeah. Totally. Maybe I wouldn’t with just Bryan, but I know Jana.”
“Okay. But call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
She nodded. “I will. Thanks for the help, West. I never would have done this without you.”
And as she scampered off, I tried to relax. This was what she needed. It was the right thing to do. She should have the space she needed to date other people after what August had done to her. It was my own fault for not realizing that spending all this time with her, seeing her in every sense of the word, would change how I felt.
I’d been into her when we moved in together, but a healthy fear of her brothers had kept me at bay. Not to mention, she had been in deep mourning over her last relationship. She was still recovering from that, of course. But she was finally starting to come into her own.
Layla pushed another shot my way.
I shoved it back across the bar. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
“If you say so.” Layla’s eyes trailed Nora as she headed out of the bar. “You said she’s going to Funky Door? I know the bar manager there. I can have them watch out for her.”
I breathed another sigh of relief. “I’d appreciate that.”
I passed her some cash and left. I watched Nora get into the back of a shiny yellow sports car next to Jana. Bryan was driving. He shot me a shit-eating grin as he slammed the door and pulled away.
Fuck.
The sight of Bryan’s smug smile made me want to put my fist through his fucking face. He wasn’t getting any tonight, but he thought that he’d stolen her away from me. And he was pleased by it.
I ran a hand down my face. This was so fucked up. I couldn’t fall for Campbell’s little sister. She was off-limits.
I stomped to my car in irritation. This was supposed to be simple. How come it was never fucking simple?
My phone rang as I was driving home, and I put Whitt on speaker. “Hey.”
“So, how’d it go?”
“Why do you care? Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?”
My twin laughed. “You have a lot of bad ideas. Helping out your roommate get some ass is probably the dumbest.”