Wright with Benefits (Wright Series #8) - K.A. Linde Page 0,79
his head. “What a party. I expected to shut it down in LA but Lubbock?”
He chuckled and slid into Hollin’s abandoned seat. He patted the bar twice. “Old-fashioned, my good man.”
Hollin glared at his younger brother. “I’m not your bartender, asshole. Make your own.”
Campbell chuckled and slid back out of the seat. He came around to the side with Hollin and made a perfect old-fashioned. Hollin looked at him as if he had grown a second head as he muddled the bitters and then added the orange rind to the glass.
“What?” Campbell asked, looking around at all of our surprised faces. “Cosmere had a solid couple years where no one gave a shit about us. I worked my fair share of odd jobs. Bartending being one of them. Anyone else?”
“We’re good,” Julian said.
“Your loss,” Campbell said, taking his seat again and turning to face me. “Man, you whaled on that guy tonight. I could see it from the stage.”
Hollin covered his face, and Julian went pale.
“Not the time, man,” Hollin said. “Did you completely lose your filter in Hollywood?”
“Did I ever have a filter?” Campbell inquired.
“No,” Hollin admitted.
“So, why did you punch him?”
“Because,” I said, looking at this rockstar that I just realized I’d judged all wrong, “he was my girl’s ex, and I thought they were hooking up.”
“You thought?” Campbell asked. “But they weren’t?”
I shrugged. “She said nothing happened. They’ve been friends forever, and I just lost it.”
“Huh. He probably deserved it.”
Julian and Hollin both nodded their agreement.
“He definitely did,” I muttered.
I tapped the bar and stood up, passing the ice to Hollin and pocketing the ring.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” I told them. “Maybe when I wake up, this will all have just been some horrible nightmare.”
“Are you good to drive?” Julian asked.
“You took the one drink I’d had all night.”
“Just checking,” Julian said. “Are you going to go home and drink?”
I tried not to glare at his concern. “No. I’m not Dad.”
Julian winced. “I didn’t say that.”
He didn’t have to. I could see it in his eyes. The scared little boy coming back out. I was supposed to be his protector. Not make him return to childhood trauma.
I managed a smile and clutched his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off.”
“What happened with Annie?” Julian asked. He couldn’t seem to hold it back.
I clenched my fists and then released them. “I screwed up. We’re done.”
“Fuck,” Hollin said.
“You going to fix it?” Campbell inquired.
“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted and then walked out of the building.
I found my Tesla in the mostly empty parking lot, wedged between Julian’s SUV and Hollin’s giant pickup truck. It felt good to be behind the wheel. To actually have control of something. Because everything else in my life was slipping through my fingers.
I’d thought that Annie would be the exception to my relationship woes. That I wouldn’t completely fuck it up and watch everything crumble in front of my eyes.
Nope. I’d been wrong.
I’d been driving for a few minutes before I realized that I really didn’t want to go home. Back to my huge, empty house with Annie’s things in it. With the wet bar standing there temptingly. I didn’t need to make bad things worse.
So, I took the next turn without preamble, and in another minute, I pulled into my mom’s driveway. She’d come to the party early since she wanted to see it all in its glory, but she’d left before the music started. She hadn’t been feeling well. Since the party had been broken up, it was early evening and she would likely still be awake.
I knocked on the door, unannounced, and a minute later, my mom pulled it open. She was already in her nightgown.
“Jordan?” she said in surprise. “Everything all right? I thought the party would be going for a few more hours.”
“I thought so, too.”
She frowned at my choice of words. “Well, come inside and tell me about it.”
I entered her house, happy for once for the cozy ’70s-era home. It felt lived in. It felt like my mom, and that was exactly what I needed.
“Do you want a drink? Coffee? Tea?”
“I’m okay.”
“Well, I’m going to have some tea. I’ll make you a mug.”
I nodded, falling down onto her overstuffed couch. It even smelled like home. Like I could curl up here on her sofa with tea and soup and feel better. Except I wasn’t sick and everything that hurt, I’d done to myself.