Page 18 of Tell Me No Lies

But more alcohol isn't always the best thing to pour on an already rowdy crowd. "Hopefully there's not a brawl before the night’s over."

Simon shrugs, looking unworried. "Not our problem if there is. We don't have to deal with it."

I huff out a laugh, because nothing could be further from the truth. "You say that, but you know Christian will lose his shit if things get out of hand while Lydia's out in the audience."

Simon goes still, staring down at the open water bottle in his hand for a few seconds before straightening to lean back in his chair. He stretches both his long legs out, assuming a position that might look relaxed if it wasn't for the sudden stiffness of his spine. "Why isn’t she staying backstage?"

I can tell by the flat tone of his voice he already knows the answer to that, and I'm no happier about Lydia's reasons for sitting in the crowd than he is. "She brought Piper and Myra with her tonight."

Lydia usually comes to our gigs alone and sits out of sight, but tonight she wanted to turn this into a girls’ night, bringing along her skittish sister and her pain in the ass best friend.

Simon rakes one hand through his long hair, eyes lifting to the black industrial ceiling as he swears under his breath. "Shit." He shifts in his seat, leaning to peer around the heavy black curtain blocking us off from the rest of the bar. "Where are they sitting?"

I almost pretend I don't know. Like I didn't make sure I knew where the threesome would be. But given what happened the last time Piper was in this bar, it's probably better to have as many eyes on her as possible. "They're at a high-top table straight out from center stage." They'd come early and been able to stake out the best seat in the house. It still put them a decent distance from us since Stella clears out the tables directly surrounding the stage, leaving room for people to crowd around us and making it possible to pack more people into the space.

Simon leans back in his seat to peer around the curtain, lips flattening into a thin line as his eyes fix on their spot in the crowd. "Myra shouldn't be here. This is going to be too much for her." He pushes up from his seat and starts to pace. “She’s not ready for something like this. It’s going to set her back again.”

I get his concern. Share it, even. But I learned long ago you can’t make someone do what you want. No matter how much better their life would be because of it.

When we first rescued Myra, she was ready to move forward and put her past behind her. Excited to build a new life and live on her own terms. But then her ex-husband and father abducted her, along with Lydia and Piper. Myra hasn’t been the same since. She’s been despondent. Hesitant to leave the safety of Christian’s home.

Simon scrubs one hand down his face, looking distressed as hell over Myra’s well-being. Makes me wonder if his claim about needing a break from his job as a contracted underwater welder isn’t the full reason he’s been sticking close to home for the first time in years.

"She’ll be fine." I slap him on the shoulder, attempting to sound reassuring even though I’m starting to have some worries of my own. I know Piper too well to think this night will go smoothly. Especially if someone does something to upset Myra. I know exactly what my front desk attendant is capable of, and it makes me hope like hell she hasn’t gotten her hands on another stun gun.

Christian strides in, cutting through the curtains, looking happy and settled and comfortable in a way he didn't used to be. I'm happy for him. He deserves it. He's worked hard for years to be a better man. To build a business. A home. A life he could share.

But that doesn't mean I'm not jealous as fuck. I’ve done everything Christian has, hoping for the same thing, but I’m sitting alone in an empty house every night, staring at the walls.

"Got a good crowd." Christian stretches his neck, rocking his head side to side before rolling his shoulders and shaking out his arms. "Ready to start the first set?"

Normally I love these nights. Enjoy getting out of my house and playing music with the men who've been at my side over half my life. But as I walk out on stage, I’m not thinking about how much I love playing music or how lucky I am to have the friends I do.

I'm thinking maybe I haven't done everything Christian has. My house sure as shit doesn't look like his. And while I’m better in some ways than I used to be, part of me is still stuck in the past. Still angry about things I couldn’t change. I have managed to build up one hell of a business, but does that even count now that I've shown my moral compass is loose enough I'm willing to fuck one of my employees while she's on the clock?

Probably not. Especially considering that same employee is glaring at me from where she sits, perfectly positioned to be in my line of sight all fucking night long.

It takes everything I have to keep my eyes off Piper while we play the first set, feeding the crowd what they came for. I can feel her eyes on me though, and by the time our break rolls around, I'm strung tight and in need of much more than the water sitting backstage. Going straight past the chairs we usually spend our fifteen minutes in, I cut from behind the curtain and down the stairs, plowing through the crowd in search of something to take the edge off before I spend the entire night miserable. There's a waitress assigned to serve us, but I'm not waiting for her to get there. I need a drink and I need it now.

I make it to the bar, circling around the back. Knowing the owner personally provides me certain liberties, and one of those is cutting the drink line. The bartender shoots me a wide smile as she pours four drinks at once. "What can I get you?"

"Gin and tonic. Hendrick’s if you have it." I know they have it, but I'm trying to be nice. Trying to force myself out of this funk I've been stuck in. This girl at the bar is pretty. Even better, she doesn't work for me. And it doesn't appear she has a stun gun hidden in any of the pockets of her cutoff jean shorts.

And for some fucking reason, that disappoints me.

She walks the drink to me, standing close as she holds it between us. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

I've played this game enough to know what else she'd be willing to give me. Two years ago I would have absolutely taken her up on this offer. Maybe even led her into one of the back rooms on my next break.

But watching everyone else around me find something so much better than a quick fuck, has stolen the appeal of shit like that. And I can't make myself get even half-hard at the thought of her body against mine.

Taking the glass, I lift it in thanks. "I'm good. Appreciate it." I turn away, hating myself for so many things. Kicking myself for the rest.

I should've finished my house years ago. Should've made it into a home. A place Piper wouldn't have stared at with wide eyes and confusion when she walked inside.

I tip back my drink as Piper somehow manages to corrupt my thoughts again, working her way into where she doesn't belong. I'm barely halfway across the room when I try to take another swallow from my glass and find it's already empty. Luckily our waitress spots me and pauses, lifting her brows in question. I set my empty glass on her tray and order another before turning toward the stage.

I nearly make it three more steps before I’m intercepted by yet another beautiful woman I would have loved to get my hands on once upon a time. She's tall and full figured with lush tits spilling over the neckline of her low-cut top. “You’re the bass player.” Her voice is husky and low as she scoots closer to me. “You play really well.”

---