The hot night air made me sweat immediately, but I stomped my feet against the pavement towards the direction of my hotel, ignoring the two male voices calling for me from behind.
“Sophie!” Nick and Nathan both called out, their footsteps pounding behind me.
I finally whirled around to face them.
Nick was still holding his guitar, his face flushed with the adrenaline rush of having given a good show. And as much as I loathed to admit it, it had been a good show, one I might have even enjoyed if I wasn’t so fucking angry at him. And then he spoke.
“What did you think of the new lyrics?” he asked, in his typical clueless manner. I wanted to rip off his hands and slap him with them.
I almost missed the “what the fuck, dude” look that Nathan gave Nick as I tried to focus my now unsteady gaze on him. He was also flushed, but instead of holding a guitar, he had my purse and my phone in his hand, which he held out. Feeling stupid for having forgotten them, I snatched them out of his grasp, shoving the phone back into the bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
“I have to go,” I said, hating the way my speech was slurring. Why had I kept drinking? Why had I stayed? This was exactly something my mother would have done. She totally would have sat in the audience of an ex-boyfriend’s show, though she would have kept going until she was too drunk to stand and the bartender or bouncer would have had to call me to tell me that they had put her in a cab and that I should expect her home in a few minutes. Then it was my job to make sure she got enough liquids in her system, or that she threw up if she needed to, so I wouldn’t wake up the next morning as an orphan. The thought that I was acting like my mom over a guy, over NICK, made me nauseous.
Or maybe that was the alcohol. My stomach heaved and both guys jumped out of the way as an evening of beer and peanuts emptied onto the sidewalk between them. I moaned, my emotions somewhere between embarrassed and exhausted. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed and forget this whole horrible evening had ever happened.
Nick snorted. “Nice one,” he said, ever the gentleman. I glared at him. If I felt sick again, I would make sure to aim better. At least get his shoes the next time. He loved those stupid leather shoes.
“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Nathan said, gently, but I ducked away.
“It’s literally across the street,” I pointed out, annoyed that he was still acting so nice to me. Why wouldn’t he just be a total jerk so I could be righteously mad at him? It wasn’t fair!
Nick was still standing there, still clutching his guitar. Looking at me like I was the one with the problem. Me! It made my blood boil. And then I remembered his question.
“You want to know what I think of the new lyrics?” I asked him. He nodded eagerly.
“Yeah,” he said, clearly feeling pretty proud of himself. “I think they were pretty good.”
“Fuck you, Nick.” I glared at him, pleased at the shocked look that crossed his face. “You dump me, get me kicked out of my apartment, randomly show up in Austin, and now you have the nerve to ask me about your fucking lyrics?”
“I thought we were friends,” he stammered.
“You’re a selfish asshole,” I told him, poking him hard in the chest, enjoying each wince. “And I’m not friends with selfish assholes.”
“I don’t know what you’re being such a bitch about,” he said, switching from hurt to angry. The petulance gave his voice an obnoxious whine. “Clearly you’ve already found someone new.”
“Shut up, Nick.”
“Bet you didn’t even wait until we were broken up.” He gave Nathan a once over. “Bet you were fucking this guy while we were still together.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, throwing up my hands. “You are unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well.” He seemed to be searching for the right insult. “Well you’re a slut!”
I wasn’t afraid of him. He was a skinny little wannabe rocker. I could break him like a twig if I wanted. So I just narrowed my eyes at him, but Nathan’s face went dark.
“Hey.” Nathan’s voice was soft but firm as he approached Nick. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Nick seemed to notice Nathan’s size for the first time, doing the same double take I had done when I saw the band on stage. He looked back at me. “This guy, Sophie, really?”
“I think you owe her an apology,” Nathan said. He practically dwarfed Nick, not just in height, but in size. It was almost comical seeing them next to each other. Pale, waifish Nick in his tight black clothes serving as a shadow to Nathan’s broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, all-American jock in blue jeans.
If Nick were a smart man, he would have backed down. But smarts weren’t exactly what Nick was known for.
He gave Nathan a poke in the shoulder.
“I can talk to her however I want,” he said, straightening to his full height, still several inches shorter then Nathan. “Besides, who the fuck are you?”
“Someone who doesn’t think you should go around calling women sluts.”
Nick laughed, but the sound died a quick death as Nathan stepped closer to him, leaning down until they were eye to eye. If I were Nick that would have been the moment where I ran away crying for my mama, but Nick held his ground like the idiot that he was. Still, I could see a flicker of fear in his eyes. Good, I thought.
“I think you should go back to the bar,” Nathan said, his voice still quiet, but with a dangerous undertone to it. If I wasn’t annoyed at him as well, I might have found his chivalry charming, but I had not forgotten that the only reason I had been in the same bar as Nick and his band tonight was because of Nathan. He wasn’t getting off so easily. Or getting off with me at all, I thought, proud of my resilience in the face of such hotness. And he was hot, his eyebrows furrowed and chest heaving.
“Whatever, dude,” Nick said, pushing away from him and turning to me. I glared at him, not backing down, even when he leaned forward and I could smell the pot on his breath. That nauseous feeling rose in my stomach again, but this time it wasn’t from the booze. How could I have stayed with him for so long? He stared down at me. “How long have you been fucking him, Sophie?”
“I wish!” I gave him a hard shove, causing him to stumble back. I wanted him out of my face. “I wish I was fucking him because god knows I haven’t been getting any from you.” I didn’t even have a chance to see how Nathan felt about that comment before Nick made his next, extremely ill-advised attack.
“Yeah, well, you were bad in bed,” he shot back.
My eyes narrowed. He had gone too far, the little shit. “I’m AMAZING in bed,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you would have touched me half as much as you touched your guitar—or yourself—you would have appreciated that!” I was so angry I was seeing red. “You were a terrible boyfriend!” I snarled at him. “And your new lyrics suck!”
Nick just stared at me, his whole body slumped in shock.
I swayed on my feet, turning back in the direction of my hotel. My head was bleary with beer and frustration. I just wanted to lie down. This evening sucked. It really, really sucked.
“Sophie—” Nathan stepped forward, his hand gently reaching out for me, but I slapped it away, spinning to face him. The world spun with me and didn’t stop.
“And you!” I waved my finger at him, trying to keep from falling over. When I steadied myself, I found that he was staring at me, a worried look in his eyes. He should be worried, I thought. I was a loose cannon with a ton of goddamn gunpowder to spare.
“All I wanted was a fucking interview!” I told him. “All I wanted was to do my job.” I was shouting now, the words tumbling out of my mouth, the alcohol freeing them completely. All the frustration, professional and sexual, that I had been feeling since I set foot in Austin poured out of me in a jumble of slurred words. “I’m a good reporter! I just wanted to interview you, for fuck’s sake. I just wanted to write this piece and prove to those assholes at the paper that I was worth something. That I wasn’t some girl that they could order around. That I wasn’t someone who was there to get them coffee or make copies. I wanted to prove to them that I could write a good story. And you just keep jerking me around like I’m nothing. But I’m not nothing, Nathan Ryder. You might be the hottest thing since microwaves, but I am now officially immune to your charms. I’m done letting your smile and your tight shirts and your great butt distract me! I’m a fucking reporter and I’m here to do my job. I didn’t even want to come to this bar tonight. I shouldn’t have been here at all, so I’m done. I’m done with both of you.” I pointed at Nathan. “I’m done with you tonight.” I pointed at Nick. “And I’m done with you forever. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an asshole and not worth another moment of my evening.”