“We all have nights where we tip the bottle too far back and still have to take the stage,” Dax says. “And tonight we’re testing your ability to play while you’re tired from a long day, potentially wasted, and definitely distracted. Head down to the basement and take a seat on one of the couches.”
I look at Tyler with wide eyes, and while he’s not actually laughing out loud, his eyes are twinkling.
“Have you ever played drunk before?” he asks me.
I giggle and shake my head. “I can’t even type out a text when I’m drunk. And for the record, I’ve been this drunk probably less than a handful of times in my entire life.”
Yeah, even I can hear the slur to my words.
He laughs. “Sweet. Looks like I’m winning this one.”
I swat his arm. “I can do it.”
“Sure,” he says, raising both brows, and we stand and head toward the basement—a place, by the way, I haven’t yet been since the door has been locked.
When we get down there, we find a large, carpeted room with plain white walls. It’s mostly empty except for a few couches and several instruments. A piano rests in one corner. There’s a drum kit set up with two electric guitars on stands nearby and huge speakers. Eight bass guitar cases are lined up neatly on a rack by the wall, and I spot mine somewhere in the middle.
We grab spots on one of the couches, and Tyler tosses an arm around me. Gage is just out of my line of sight, so I can’t tell how he feels about it. He didn’t seem happy earlier, that’s for sure, but I sort of lost track of him as I kept drinking.
I draw in a deep breath.
I could really use some water.
“We’re going to test four of you at a time, so we’ll have two rounds,” Dax begins. “On my go, you’ll need to find your bass, bring it to one of the marked spots over here, and plug in with the cords next to the marked spot so we can isolate your sound and listen to just you. We’ll start playing one of our songs over the speakers about ten seconds after I say go, and you’ll need to join in with no sheet music. The longer it takes you to get your ass over here, the more of the song you’ll miss and the less we’ll have to judge you on. Once the song’s over, the challenge is over.”
He pauses, and I glance at Tyler, whose eyes are wide as he listens to the instructions. I stifle a giggle.
“There are multiple things we’re looking at, including testing your knowledge of our music library. We’ll play a different song with the second group. Any questions?”
Nobody has any, and I’d be willing to wager a bet that most of them already forgot what the heck we’re supposed to do.
“The first group will be Gage, Colt, Lexi, and John. Group two will be Tyler, Tim, Decker, and Blaze. Group one, go!”
I scramble from my seat and run to grab my bass. My fingers are clumsy as I try to quickly unzip my case, and I wonder how much clumsier Gage will be because of all the salty food he ate today. I giggle at the thought as I hear the song start, but I don’t chance a glance at my competitors because I’m forcing myself to focus.
I finally get my guitar out of its case and rush over to one of the marked spots. I may be a little tipsy, but I’m still nimbler than the guys I’m fighting against because a quick glance tells me they’re all still fighting with their cases to break their instruments free.
I plug in, and I close my eyes and listen for a few seconds to the song they’re playing. It’s just the instruments, no vocals, and I recognize it right away. But closing my eyes was a bad idea.
I’m swaying on my feet, and the rush of the sour mix catches up with me.
I feel it rising in the back of my throat, and I don’t know if it’s because I drank too much or nerves or some combination of the two, but I refuse to lose this battle.
I swallow, forcing the gross feeling to go away, and draw in a deep breath as I open my eyes. I start plucking the strings as I figure out the rhythm, and it’s a little messy as my fingers slip or I forget to mute a string so the sound bleeds into the next note.
I catch on fast, though, and I realize that even though I’ve had more to drink tonight than I’ve had since...well, probably the night I met Gage, I can still play bass.
I can play this instrument in my sleep.
I see the others coming from the corner of my eye, and I smell Gage as he passes by me. That same clean mix of soap and sexy man is almost more of a disruption to the task at hand than the fact that I’m drunk on whiskey sours, but I power through. I slip up again, but I keep at it.
The song is four minutes long, and then we unplug, put our guitars back in their cases, and sit on the couch. Group two performs, and I can’t help but watch Tyler the whole time...even though Gage is sitting right next to me.
I’ve largely been avoiding him.
I’ve had to.
But now that I can smell him and can remember what it was like to kiss him, and I can practically feel the heat coming off him so dang close to me...I can’t avoid it. I can’t avoid him.
I glance over and find his eyes on me.
They’re hot.
Full of lust.
Or maybe I’m drunker than I thought.
“You’re really into him?” he asks softly.
That soapy smell is mixed with whiskey, and somehow it makes him even sexier.
I purse my lips and look away. I nod as I watch group two perform.
It was all there in his eyes, and my own fill with tears at the very thought of it.
He’s hurt.
What Tyler and I are doing...it isn’t just a distraction. It’s hurting him. That wasn’t what I set out to do.
And suddenly, tipsy and fun, giggly Lexi becomes drunken, emotional, hot mess Lexi.
I refuse to cry in front of him. We just had such a magical weekend together, and the two of us have done nothing but get in our own way since we found each other in this house.
Maybe I’ll feel differently in the morning, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to keep up this ruse with Tyler. Not when it’s hurting Gage.
We’re released upstairs while the MFB guys deliberate over our performances, and while we wait, first I grab some water to try to dilute the alcohol, and then I pull Tyler into the food room while everyone else is waiting in the family room.
“I don’t think we should do this to him,” I say.
His brows dip. “Why not?”
“Because I still have feelings for him. That doesn’t just go away, and even though I’m royally angry with what he said, I still don’t want to hurt him.”
He tosses an arm around me, and I start to cry. He pulls me into him, and I sob into his chest.
I hear the door open, a muttered curse, and close again.
I look up, and Tyler’s face is shadowed. “Was that him?” I ask.
He nods.
“Oh, hell,” I curse. I can imagine what it looked like to whoever walked in since Tyler’s arms were firmly around me as I clung to him, but of course it had to be him.
“Maybe it isn’t a bad thing, Lex. What’s your end goal, anyway? Do you want him back?”
I shrug. I did, and then I didn’t, but maybe I do. “I don’t know what I want. I’m still so angry over the way he just blurted to the world that we hooked up. I’m hurt, and I wanted revenge by beating him. But I want to beat him fairly.”