I look down at the bar counter, and see the perky blonde who’s making drinks. She shoots me the stink eye and says, “What can I get for you?”
“Root beer?” I ask. She raises a brow, nods, and pours one from the tap on the bar.
“How do you know Logan?” she asks as she slides my drink over to me.
The words “he’s my boyfriend” come unbidden to my lips. But I bite them back. “I’m staying with the boys for a bit.”
Her brows shoot up toward her hairline. “Really?”
I nod, taking a sip of my root beer. “Thanks,” I say absently, pointing toward the drink.
She drops two cherries with stems into it and smiles. “I’m Abby.” She holds out her hand and I take it. She has a firm grip. I like that.
“Kit,” I say. “So, are you one of the thousands of women Logan has slept with?” I ask. I try to make a flippant sound, but if the look on her face is indication, I fail. I don’t really want the answer. But then again, I do.
She laughs. “Honey, I have more respect for myself than that.” She looks at me for a moment as she pours someone else a beer with a perfect head. “You?”
I feel much better about her knowing she hasn’t slept with him. “No. But girl, do I want to.” I force a chuckle that I don’t really feel past my lips.
“He has that effect on all the girls.” She laughs. “Hang in there.”
I don’t want to be like all the girls.
Someone taps the bar in front of her rudely, and she looks up scowling. “Don’t ever bang on my f**king bar again, ass**le,” she says, but there’s a smile under her words, I can tell.
“Oh, come on, Abby,” he says. “You know you love it when I bang you.”
Snickers erupt around the bar. He leans over the bar and she stands up on her tiptoes, putting all her weight on her arms, so she can touch her lips to his. She points to me. “Ford, this is Kit.”
Ford looks over at me and smiles.
“Kit came in with Logan,” Abby explains. She shoots him an odd look and he narrows his eyes at her, and then looks over at me.
“Say it ain’t so,” he says with a laugh.
I press my lips together, not sure what he’s insinuating.
“It’s about time somebody caught that bastard.” He laughs, rubbing his hands together with excitement. “Payback’s a bitch,” he says. Then he saunters off into the crowd.
“Ford works with Logan in the front,” she explains in between pouring drinks. She takes a twenty from a guy and presses it down her top. I can see the tip of it sticking up from her cle**age. And so can her customer. He licks his lips. “Oh, did you want change?” she asks sweetly. He shakes his head, laughs and walks away.
“Have you worked here long?” I shout. The band is just getting started on the stage, tuning their instruments and playing some snippets of music. I turn around to look toward them. The lead singer is already shirtless. But the crowd seems to love it.
“About a year,” she says. She’s working quickly to fill drinks, and the club is getting busier and busier. I almost wish I could go and help her. I feel pretty useless sitting on the sidelines like this with nothing to do.
“Who’s the band?” I ask, jerking a thumb over my shoulder.
She shrugs. “They’re new.”
I hear the beginnings of Free Bird start to play and my fingers itch. I swipe the tip of my finger across the calluses on my thumb and wish it was me on that stage. But it can’t be. They’re just doing cover songs, anyway. But they’re songs that make my fingers twitch and make my heart start to beat faster.
I turn around to watch them.
They’re really very good. But there’s one problem. Their lead guitarist is stinking drunk. They barely got through their warm up, and he’s already stumbling over the cords. Their bassist turns to glare at him, and he grins and keeps on playing. But he can barely stay on his feet. He motions to a waitress and she brings him a shot. He tips it back and keeps on playing.
The bass guitarist is pissed. I can tell. I would be too. You don’t mess with the music. Ever. I’m itchy on the stool, and I want to go and take the guitar from him and take over. I force myself to sit still.
Logan stalks close to me from across the room and stops half way. “You ok?” he mouths. I nod at him and shoo him away with my hands. He grins at me, and stays where he can look my way. I hope he’s not planning to hover all night.
I twitch for a completely different reason when I see a girl walk up to Logan. She’s wearing a short skirt and a skimpy top, and her boobs are sitting up like they’re stacked on a shelf for people to look at. Logan’s eyes skim across her chest, and she lays her hand on his arm, leaning close to him. I scoot to the edge of the chair, watching to see how he reacts. He watches her lips for a moment, and then puts his hands on her shoulders and pushes her back. She scowls. He takes a step back from her, and my heart thrills.
“Damn,” Abby says. “Never thought I’d see that happen.”
I look over at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen him push one away.”
Logan looks over at me and winks.
The girl glares at me, and turns to say something sharp to him. He looks at her kindly, but there’s no heat in his gaze. At least not the kind she was looking for. She huffs off.
Suddenly, the band’s amp screeches loudly and their lead guitarist stumbles, falling to his knees. His buddies stop playing and try to stand him up, but he just lays there laughing.