“You all see that shit? If I can’t play tomorrow, you’ll know why.”
“If you can’t play tomorrow, it’s because you got shit-faced.”
“All’s good,” he says and passes out.
I’m glad. It means he won’t get high with Garrett.
Bruce drops me at Bria’s. I walk around to the alley and look up at her dark windows. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I tug on the door in case it’s not locked, but it is. I get out my phone and call her.
“Crew?” she answers sleepily. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m downstairs.”
“You’re here?”
“Yeah. Can you let me in?”
“Are you drunk?”
“Very. You?”
“No.” She sighs. “I’ll be right there.”
She comes to the door wearing a short robe. I look around, making sure nobody else is watching.
“You shouldn’t walk around your building like that,” I say, pushing her up the stairs.
“You shouldn’t come to my place at two in the morning.”
She turns on the light when we go inside. I immediately turn it off. “I feel a headache coming on,” I lie.
“Did you come here to have sex?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I lead her to the couch and drop my notebook on the table. “No, really. We can just sit here.”
“You want to sit?”
“Sure, why not? So what did you do with your friends?”
“We had a drink at another bar, then came back here to talk. It was fun. I haven’t seen them since last fall. I was so consumed with White Poison and then RA that I’ve let a lot of my friendships slide.”
I can see her gazing at me in the moonlight. It’s not bright enough to see the color of her hair, for which I’m grateful. I touch it, rubbing a lock between my fingers. “You really like the new hair?”
“I do. Kat and Lola said they loved it. Don’t you?”
Her phone vibrates, saving me from having to answer.
“Who’s texting you at two in the morning?”
“It’s probably Brett. He’s always checking up on me. He texted me earlier, wondering why I left the bar right after our gig when we usually stay after. I was catching up with Kat and Lola and forgot to get back to him. He’s on shift tonight.”
“You told him you left early?”
“No. He saw on that app that tracks my phone.”
“Your brother tracks your phone?”
She laughs. “He does. I guess it makes him feel better when he knows where I am.”
I pick up my phone and tap around on it until I find what I’m searching for. Hers vibrates. She reads the message, alerting her to my request. “You want to track my phone, too?”
“It might make me feel better.” I can just make out the smile on her face.
“That’s getting dangerously close to girlfriend territory, isn’t it, Chris?”
“Just accept the damn invitation.”
“Fine, but it goes both ways. I get to see where you are, too.” She puts down her phone.
I hand it right back to her. “Text him back.”
“I’ll do it later.”
“Do it now.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that he’s worried about you, and it’s two in the morning.” I take the phone from her and type a text as if I’m her.
“You’re worse than he is,” she says, scowling.
It may be dark in here, but I’m not totally blind. Her robe falls open, and she’s wearing sleep shorts that barely cover her ass. I touch her thigh. “I think we’ve done enough sitting.”
“So this is a bootie call?”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
She shrugs, sinking deeper into the couch. I scoop her into my arms. Moonlight falls across her face, and all I see is Abby. I carry her to the bed and draw the curtains, making it darker. I join her under the covers and will myself to think only of Bria. When I touch her, I close my eyes and picture the brunette she used to be.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Bria
Crew takes off his clothes before stripping me of what little I’m wearing. I can taste the alcohol when he kisses me. He’s drunker than I’ve ever seen him. It’s not so dark that I can’t see his eyes are closed. This makes me sad, because he’s always looked at me when we’re in bed.
He crawls down my body, putting his mouth on either breast, then my stomach. He hesitates when he reaches my scar, as always. Sometimes I wonder if it bothers him. Does he somehow see me as damaged?
He feathers kisses along my inner thighs, puts a finger inside me, and groans when