Page 114 of Electric Touch

Apollo's reaching out wasn’t down to her. Her reaction to me at his office that day wasn’t fake either. Nothing about her is fake. And would we have got along the way we do, done so many things together, if it was all about sleeping with someone famous?

What the hell did she say before I lost it? It is still evading me. I get up and take a shower, then throw some leftovers into the microwave. Dylan is listening to music in the living room. The TV is on in the background. For someone with such bad OCD, I don’t know how he can have the two things on at the same time.

I drop into the chair opposite him with my food. He ignores me. Fine by me.

Still, my head continues torturing me. My friends have welcomed Adrestia. Apart from Riley. Dylan and Ciro both like her. And Alessa, apparently, they’re such good friends. She told her about the picture from Riley before she told me. She isn’t some bitch trying to use me. She hasn’t infiltrated her way into my life. It’s been a natural progression. Nothing about her is conniving.

“So, does this mean you’re single again?”

He’s so fucking heartless. I don’t answer.

“Seems like it to me. So if you are, get back to focusing on the band. You’re the one always talking about how we can’t fuck it up by slacking. You’ve had two days to mope. Now get back to it.”

Easy for him to say. He’s never been in love. Fuck. I put the food aside, no longer hungry.

“You gonna man up?”

“Stop being a little prick.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Whatever.” I go back to my room, but I text Declan, apologising.

Declan: Never thought I’d be saying this to you, dipshit, but that was your one and only. You miss meetings or practice again, you’re fucked.

Nash: Yeah, sorry. I’ll be at the next one.

Declan: This shit is serious. I don’t care what is going on. Get over it. You have a job to do.

Seems everyone feels the same way. I go to bed thinking about her, wake up the same way. No matter what I do, I can’t get her out of my head.

“Your relationship with her is weird,” Dylan says.

“Weird? How so?” Jordan squints up from his cards.

“She ignores you.”

“Not when we’re alone she doesn’t,” Jordan waggles his eyebrows and leans back on the chair, putting one foot up on the table. “Besides, weird is cool. Weird is interesting. Who wants to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t weird? That is my question to you.”

“I wouldn’t know, never had a girlfriend long enough,” Dylan shrugs.

“And that, my friend, is perfectly acceptable for a dude of your age.”

“Says the wise one,” I mutter, grabbing my beer.

We’ve been playing for nearly two hours. I’ve lost all track of time and my concentration on the cards isn’t great, given I’ve drunk four bottles of beer one after the other.

Poker night has become a weekly thing. I didn’t want to come, but Dylan dragged me out, telling me I’ve done enough fucking moping around alone. I know I have, and despite telling Declan I’d pull my shit together, I still feel one hundred percent fucking crap. Fortunately, we’ve had no meetings or been needed for anything else. Declan is far too busy finalising everything for the tour. We leave in five days, so he’s preoccupied.

I’ve avoided talking to Riley. I need to. There has been so much drama already and really, what’s the point? Things with Adrestia are done. It’s been a week and I’ve not heard from her. I was the one who said I needed space. She would take that at face value and wait to hear from me, I’m sure. I hate thinking of her alone, wondering if I’ll ever get back in touch. I owe her at least the clarity of whether we’re done. I’m not sure we are.

Either way, Riley doesn’t need to know shit about where Adrestia and I stand.

“You may call me Obi Wan,” Jordan smirks. “Seriously though, I know how people see Alessa. I know they think I could do better, or that I should dump her and find another woman. Why would I want to? She’s perfect for me. She’s sharp, she’s smart as fuck, she’s gorgeous. She plays bass like a boss. Music runs through her veins. You ever seen her on her own in a recording studio playing that guitar?”

He looks off as if he’s imagining it. It’s written all over his face how he feels about our bandmate.

“And she puts up with my shit,” he laughs. “Regardless of the faces she pulls or the things she says when I do something no one expects. Alessa appreciates my brand of insanity.”

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