6. Bridger
6
brIDGER
“ H ey man, quit hogging the pepperoni,” Declan, our lead singer, gripes at Landon, our drummer, as he shoves another slice onto a plate.
“Shoulda gotten here earlier,” Landon says with a smirk before relinquishing the box and pulling out a chair at Corbin’s table.
Despite being frustrated with my best friend, I am at least thankful that something productive came out of his interrupting my conversation with Saige a few days earlier. I feel like she almost said yes to going out with me.
Shaking the thought away, because I’ll go insane if I don’t, I focus on the guys in the room and do my best to remain in the moment.
Nick, who plays the sax and trumpet, talks around a mouthful of pizza while Sam, who rocks the keyboard, nods animatedly.
“Don’t make that face,” Corbin murmurs as he comes to stand beside me.
“What face?” I ask even though I know exactly what face he means. It’s my sentimental face—the one that says these guys have been my family for a long time.
And now things are changing.
“Look at them,” I whisper back, motioning toward Nick and Sam as they smile and laugh, most likely about Sam getting married and Nick becoming a father.
We’ve all grown up in the last few years, some more than others. My gaze drifts to where Declan and Landon are doubled over laughing and I smile.
“We’re allowed to want different things than when we started. Hell, you’re chasing a woman light-years out of your league as we speak.”
He snorts at his joke, refraining from mentioning how much shit he’s in with my sister, and turns back to the guys. We’d all kind of paired off—Corbin and I because of our history, Sam and Nick because of their long-term relationships, and Landon and Declan for their perpetual bachelor status.
It worked for us.
We’d been traveling all over the country and even did a few tours overseas. Garrett North, the lead singer of Descending North, had called and asked if we wanted to open for them last year.
Garrett Fucking North.
The guy wasn’t any older than I am but cool as shit, laid-back, and just so incredibly in tune with the music. He was private but never treated us as anything less than peers even though their fans didn’t quite know what to make of us.
We aren’t rock but we sure as hell know how to jam, and after a while we had the crowd jamming too.
“You’re ruining the vibe , Bridge,” Declan whines as he throws a pretzel at me. It hits me square in the chest, and I roll my eyes as the others chuckle.
“What vibe? You were just arguing over pepperoni.”
“The vibe that says you’re doomsday planning because Sammy is getting hitched and we get to call Nick daddy.”
“Told you,” Corbin mutters, earning a glare from me because I was not.
“I’m not. I just want to make sure we’re all where we want to be,” I say defensively, walking right into Declan’s verbal trap.
“Maybe, but Amber said the smoking-hot woman with a resting bitch face is where you really wanna be.”
He laughs as I groan. “Yeah, well, everyone’s timing just sucks these days.”
Sam hitches his thumb toward the general direction of Saige’s house. “She’s the realtor?” He lets out a low whistle when I nod. “Good luck, man. She found us a place, and while she’s nice, she’s definitely got that fuck-off vibe going on.”
“That’s why he likes her,” Corbin adds helpfully, and he’s lucky I love my sister more than throwing him under the bus right now.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mutter as Corbin wraps his arm around my shoulder.
“You get to be happy just like the rest of these fuckers,” Declan says, pointing to Sam and Nick.
“It’s not so bad, you know,” Nick says wryly.
“Dude, I know. I just want to be Uncle Declan and then go out and bang a hot girl at the bar. You have your idea of awesome and I have mine. Besides,”—Declan grins—“I already have your baby present ordered. I got these custom band onesies all made up and?—”
“Who the fuck even are you?” Landon manages as he gapes at him. Honestly, we’re all just staring because seriously, what?
“To be clear, you got him a baby present already,” Sam asks.
“Yes.”
“And you’re excited about it,” Sam continues as he narrows his eyes.
“What? I love babies,” Declan says with his palms facing out, “as long as they’re not mine.”
Everyone laughs, and our conversation turns to other subjects. Nick rejects every single one of our baby names. Declan tells Sam his wedding registry sucks and that he got them a better gift. Corbin stirs the pot every chance he gets, and I grab a slice of pizza and settle in for the mayhem.
Because this is us.
And we’re still fucking awesome.