35. Chapter Thirty-Five
I’m silent for far too long, staring at Mila with my mouth wide open. I finally shake out of it.
“Really? You think so?”
“Don’t play dumb, Bryson. It’s okay if you have a crush on the guy.”
My heart pounds a little harder.
“Why in the world would you say that?” I ask as casually as I can, picking up my soda.
“Because you did in high school. Why wouldn’t you now?”
“How do you know I did in high school?”
She gasps. “So you admit it!”
Shit. This little weasel.
“I didn’t admit anything. I’m just asking.”
She’s bouncing in her seat, no doubt proud of being right. It’s making me want to throw up. After a moment, she relaxes, her expression turning more serious.
“Look, I know you just came out to me and all, but like I said, I kind of assumed anyway. And trust me, anyone with eyes could see the way you looked at that man. Though, I think we all kind of do. He’s hot.” When I just stare at her, she looks beyond me, but quickly darts her eyes back. Her brow furrows, and it’s like something goes off in her head. “Oh my god, Bryson, I won’t say anything. I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. I know you would never do anything like that. It was just a joke.”
I swallow hard, wondering if I should tell her the truth. Maybe I should get an outsider’s opinion. People knowing isn’t a good idea. The more that know, the more chances there are for Chris to find out. But Cole never asked me not to tell anyone. And Mila is one of the most trustworthy people in the entire world. She hates drama and is loyal as hell to her friends.
“Can I be honest with you?” I ask.
Her brow furrows deeper, and she takes my hand. “Of course you can. Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing is wrong. I just—”
“What did I miss?” Tomas takes a seat and I bring my attention to him. Good timing. Or maybe bad timing. I can’t really tell. But maybe it’s a good thing I don’t mention this to Mila. I know I can trust her, but this could cause someone to freak out. Especially with the way she feels about Chris. What if I admit it to her and she feels more loyalty to Chris and tells him? It’s better I don’t risk it. I can’t believe I almost told her.
“Whoop! What up, people?” someone shouts into the microphone. I glance up at the stage to see the band fully set up. “I’m Hunt, one third of Tortured Devices. Lead vocals and lead guitar.” He strums it and the crowd goes wild. “On bass, we’ve got Les, and on drums we got Cody!”
The crowd claps and whoops again. The noise is so loud it’s nearly deafening. This place is packed, and it’s already starting to get warm.
“Thank you for being here tonight and supporting bands like us. Without you, we’d be nothing. With that said, let’s get jamming!”
The crowd cheers as the band gets into their first song. It’s heavy. At a few points, he’s screaming and I don’t know what he’s saying, but the crowd is totally into it. Bobbing their heads and holding their drinks high. The atmosphere is alive. The energy is wild, and I bet it’s even better up on stage. Though there is no way in hell anyone could get me up there in front of all these people.
Every time I glance at Tomas, I find him watching the stage with a small smile on his face, bobbing his head to the beat. He looks like he’s having a good time.
Mila was right about him not being my type, which I already knew and already said, but her saying it to me made me feel better. Validated. Like it isn’t just an excuse I’m using. Sometimes I don’t trust myself. Especially not when it comes to men. My experience isn’t a lot and already it’s terrible. Douchebag gaslighter, random hook up, and best friend’s dad.
But now that I sit here, after almost admitting to Mila that I do in fact have a crush on Cole, I’m wondering why I can’t try to date Tomas anyway. Daniel wasn’t my type, and I wasted a year on him. Cole is my type, but he’s off limits.
Tomas isn’t ugly. And maybe sexual attraction would grow once I got to know him better?
Am I really trying to convince myself to be into Tomas? Is this desperation or something else? Whatever it is, it’s definitely fucking weird.
The first band plays for a half hour. Tomas leaves a few times to get new drinks, offering us one each time, but Mila and I always decline. I don’t want to drink around Chris if he can’t.
The second band sets up, which takes about fifteen minutes. They start playing right away. Their music isn’t as heavy, and the singer actually sings with a sultry raspy voice that I’m totally into. It’s like Kurt Cobain and Hozier had a baby. Halfway through their set, Chris plops in the seat across from Mila.
“Hey, babe!” he shouts over the music.
Babe?
“Uh, hi?” she says, looking at him like he’s grown a second head.
Even I know he doesn’t call her babe. And that has my stomach dropping. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it makes me wonder if he’s been drinking without me realizing. Tomas glances at him with a frown but turns his attention back to the band.
“Just wanted to come say hi,” Chris adds, grinning at her. He doesn’t look drunk. But he doesn’t have to be drunk. A few drinks make him different. And it seems I’m not the only person thinking it.
“Have you been drinking?” Mila asks carefully.
Good for her. Seriously. I wish I had the confidence Mila does. The confidence Cole does. Hell, any semblance of confidence would be nice because I don’t seem to have even an ounce.
“Just one,” Chris answers with a shrug. Tomas looks at Chris over his shoulder warily. Which makes me think that’s a lie. Maybe I should have asked Tomas to keep an eye on Chriss too, but sharing Chris’s business isn’t fair. “I can have one drink and be fine.”
Maybe he can.
But maybe he can’t.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, Chris, but I thought you weren’t drinking anything,” Mila says.
His smile falls. “Well, my best friend is playing on stage, and I wanted to celebrate.”
“You can celebrate without alcohol, Christopher,” she says tightly.
He scoffs and gets to his feet. “And you can go a day without being an uptight bitch.”
“Hey!” I shout, getting to my feet so fast my chair falls back. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Chris raises his brow at me, but not in a shocked way. It’s taunting.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Bryson. You’re not my father.”
“Thank god for that,” I respond.
“What the hell does that mean?” he bellows.
Both Mila and Tomas are watching our exchange, both still in their seats but neither saying anything.
“It means you’re an ungrateful little shit who’s throwing a temper tantrum, and it’s getting annoying.”
He chokes out a disbelieving laugh. “You serious right now?”
I should probably not have said what I say next, considering Tomas is sitting right here, and this involves his father too, but I am so sick of Chris’s attitude.
“Damn right I am. Your father does everything for you and you’re pissed over something he did ten damn years ago. Get over it. Get over yourself, Chris. Not everything is about you.”
I don’t expect him to lunge for me, which is why he grabs my shirt and pulls me onto the table before I realize what’s happening. It happens so fast. But I’m up on my feet again, on his side of the table, even faster. I react before I think. I swing, hitting him in the face. Then there’s a sharp pain in my jaw and I know he hit me back. People start screaming. The music is still playing. I fall on the table when he shoves me, then onto the floor with a heavy thud. Chris steps over me, but I kick up at him, knocking him away. I get to my feet and back up. He jumps toward me again, and I swing, getting him in the jaw this time. And hard, because my wrist hurts. He flies backward, tripping on a chair and falling on his ass.
People are shouting and yelling. The music is off. And security is making their way over to us. Mila runs over and takes my hand, pulling me back because Chris is getting to his feet. He’s furious when he sets eyes on me. He steps toward me, but a security guy gets him first. Chris whirls and swings on the big guy, but he misses. Another security guy helps that one and they both grab Chris. Another one walks over to me, gesturing for me to follow him, so I do.
“Bryson!”
I look over my shoulder at Mila, whose eyes are full of tears.
“Just stay with Tomas. I’ll text you.”
She nods and steps closer to Tomas, who puts his arm around her shoulder, watching me curiously.
The security guy leads me past the bar, down a hall, and into a small office. I faintly hear the music start back up.
“What happened?” the guy says, gesturing for me to sit in the chair across from the desk. He sits on the other side. He’s young. Lots of tattoos up and down his arms, dressed in all black with the venue logo on his chest. It’s kind of shitty. I should offer to make them a new one.
“He’s my friend. We had a disagreement. It got out of control. I’ll leave, it’s no problem.”
The guy nods, writing something down on a white legal pad. “What was it about?”
“He’s supposed to be sober, and I found out he’d been drinking. Didn’t like it.”
He nods again. Scribbles more. “All right. I need my partner to talk to him and then we’ll see how things will go.”
He means if they need to involve the cops.
“He isn’t drunk or anything.”
He gets up when there’s shouting in the hall. I can’t make out the words but can tell it’s Chris’s voice. I bury my face in my hands, shaking my head. This guy is… Jesus, Chris, what are you doing to yourself?
The worst part is all I can think about is how disappointed Cole is going to be when he finds out.