girls just don’t want to go down on each other while you jack off watching.”
My jaw drops. “You asked them to … here?”
“I saw an opportunity.”
“Dude.”
“Right. Like I’m any more fucked up than the famous Chris Rewey. Don’t act like you aren’t, man. You can’t even look at her, can you? It’s the hair. I noticed it too. You should tell her.”
I lean against the wall. “Tell her what? That every time I look at her it hurts like hell because all I can see is my dead girlfriend?”
“She needs to know. You’re acting like a douche. It’s not fair to her.”
“She’ll dump me.”
“Maybe that’s not the worst thing. If you can’t get over this, you shouldn’t be together.”
I continue to the bathroom door. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He clamps down on my arm. “I may be a dozen shades of fucked up, but I know you can’t keep doing this. It’s eating away at you. I can see how much you like her, and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you.”
My eyes snap to his. “She’s not.”
“You wouldn’t know, would you, since you can’t look at her and all. But I see how she looks at you. We all do.”
I sink against the wall. “Fuck.”
“Either tell her and let the chips fall where they may, or end it and let her get on with her life.”
“Says the guy who can’t get on with his life.”
“Hey now, we’re talking about you, not me. I’m all too aware that I’m a therapist’s wet fucking dream.” He points to the bathroom. “Go take a whiz. I’ll order us a few more shots. Looks like we both need it.”
“Better make it more than a few.”
When I return to the table, it’s covered in shot glasses. “Think it’s enough?” I ask Liam.
“It’s a start.”
A half-hour later, Brad shakes his head at all the empties in front of Liam and me. “You guys better not puke on the way home.”
“It’s a good thing Jeremy hired us a driver,” Garrett says, downing another.
“I could have driven,” Brad says. “I promised Katie I’d stay sober tonight and stop by her place after.”
I shove a glass at him. “Not when we’re done with you. Come on. Misery loves company.”
“I’m not miserable. In fact, I’ve never been happier.”
“Well, aren’t you the golden child. Perfect fucking Brad, with his perfect fucking girlfriend and his perfect fucking life.”
He clinks his glass against mine. “I’ll toast to that.”
“How come Katie never comes to our gigs?” Liam asks.
“She’s not into rock music. Or drinking.”
Liam looks at Brad like he’s crazy. “And that makes her the perfect girl for you? At least pick someone who’s going to support your chosen profession.”
“She supports me. She just doesn’t like the scene, that’s all.”
Liam snorts. “It’ll never last.”
“You’re wrong,” Brad says defensively. “This is the real deal.”
Liam turns to us. “You guys want to take bets on this?”
“On whether Brad’s relationship crumbles or not?” I ask. “Count me out.”
“Hey, want to get high on the way home?” Garrett asks when Lisa leaves to find her friends.
“Hell yeah,” Liam says. “Wait—no. Is this another one of your practical jokes?”
Garrett pulls a joint out of his pocket. “This is some real shit. A buddy of mine who came to the show gave it to me.”
I may be drunk, but I know that isn’t something Liam should get into again. He smoked pot all the time in high school. It took me years to convince him to stop. I lived every day in fear that it would lead to something else. “Put that shit away.”
Liam thinks I can’t hear him when he whispers to Garrett, “Count me in.”
“Don’t do it, man,” I say.
“Don’t you have enough of your own problems?” he says, handing me another shot. “Quit worrying about mine.”
An hour later, we stumble out to the van. Bruce, our driver, already packed up our gear. He grins when he sees us. “You can sleep it off on the way back.”
I tap on his shoulder from the seat behind him. “I’m not going back. Can you drop me at Bria’s?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Liam slurs. He thinks about it. “Actually, yeah, drop him at Bria’s.” He leans close. “Drunk people are more honest. Just lay it all out there.”
“That’s not why I’m going.”
“Midnight bootie call,” Garrett shouts.
I high-five him.
“She seemed pretty upset with you, Crew,” Brad says. “Maybe we should stick around until you’re sure she’ll let you in.”