Page 5 of Yearn

Listen to You Give Love a Bad Name

by Jon Bon Jovi

Whispers was packed but we eased through, high fiving and greeting the familiar crowd who worked the same crazy ass hours and needed a safe place to party. I linked my arms with Elle and Daisy as we fought our way to our regular table in the back. I’d changed into my tattered flared jeans and a barely there white strapless top that showed off my midriff and summer tan. The music blared with top pop and bar classics no one ever got sick of.

“What do you want?” Max yelled.

“Shots!” I held up three fingers. “Tequila.”

He nodded and disappeared with Cooper to get the drinks, while the girls squeezed into one side of the booth. Noah and Adam were already seated, talking low to each other. They werethe only two beside Daisy who didn’t work at Red. Noah was carving out a career as a DJ and had begun scoring some of the more popular clubs. It always surprised me he was in the industry since he never struck me as the usual type to whip up a crowd and get wild. He was actually one of the tamest in the crew. His buzz cut, sharp features, and cool gray eyes gave him a distant type of personality, but once he got revved up, he was magic with transforming a mob to want to party hard. Noah and Adam were super close since they worked the industry together.

I raised my voice so they’d hear me. “How’d your gig go tonight?” I asked Noah.

Adam stopped talking and treated me to a look. The look he’d perfected over the past year, guaranteed to set off my temper. But of course, he knew that. He’d been pushing my buttons since we first met and it became hate at first sight. “Do you interrupt every convo you’re not the subject of?” he asked.

Every inch of me throbbed to take him down a few notches. He was one of those musician types that emanated brooding artist. With his long black hair caught up in a man bun, dark intense stare, full lips, and rough type features, he was like kryptonite to women’s panties. He must not own a razor because his chin and jaw were always covered in scruff. His outfit was always jeans and a t-shirt like he didn’t care. His arms were full sleeve tats and his body was all raw muscle from genes and not the gym. At least, Max said he rarely worked out with them so God knows what he did. Adam strummed on a guitar, wrote songs, and pretended he was better than all of us. I hated always having to put up with his revolving harem, which was different than Noah’s groupies. With Adam, it was as if he was doing them a favor by allowing them to hang. As if his artistic self was gift enough.

Normally, I’d say we were both jealous of Max’s attention—the typical buddy versus girlfriend scenario. But it had never been about having Max to ourselves.

I remember when I first walked into the bar and saw Max and Adam. Funny, my gaze had first been trapped by Adam, but I’d known immediately he was every woman’s greatest mistake. His eyes were too intense; his lips curving in a smirk that practically challenged me to impress him. My body had gone into high alert, and I sensed he’d push me to lose control; push me past safe boundaries until there was no safety left.

Fuck, no.

Then I looked at Max, and I exhaled in relief. Max was the type I could handle. He was everything I was looking for, and it was as if Adam had judged me because I refused to be his next conquest. Probably pissed I’d ignored him and picked Max.

When Max and I began dating, I heard Adam said I was too shallow to do anything but fuck because a real conversation would hurt my brain. From then on, we were sworn enemies. I made sure that Max fell in love with me, and spent the past year throwing it in Adam’s face. He made sure he showed me on a regular basis that I was useless. It ended up having the opposite effect—instead of trying to prove him wrong, I only fell deeper into the role of dumb blonde he assigned me. It was almost fun playing the part because I knew it pissed him off. The idea that his bestie panted after me when Adam disapproved caused him aggravation and gave me a cheap thrill.

Unfortunately, Adam wasn’t going anywhere so we’d both learned to mostly make nice with each other. For Max’s sake and the group. But put us in a room together without a referee and we went at each other hard.

The worst part?

Adam was actually talented. I’d heard him perform a few times and his lyrics were beautiful.

I assumed he was plagiarizing because the asshole could never own the ability to feel anything that deep.

I made sure to keep my tone light and batted my lashes at Adam. “Oh, you weren’t talking about me? You were probably telling him you didn’t get that gig at Lenny’s, huh? So. Sorry. What a blow.”

Irritation flashed in his dark eyes. I bloomed with happiness from his reaction. Max had told me Adam had been trying to score a set at the popular bar but they turned him down. “No problem, princess,” he drawled back, taking the hit and recovering quickly. “I’m sure you’ll hear from your tv show soon. After all, they’re recruiting Barbie looking model wannabees to do—” he broke off as if confused. “Well, to do nothing but smile on camera. You’re perfect for the role.”

I glared.

He glared back.

Noah rolled his eyes. “Can we not do this now? Look, here are the shots.”

Daisy jumped in, always the peacemaker, and dispersed the drinks. “Adam, I’m sure you’ll get a better job. Landon, I’m sure the reality show will call back. Now, take a lime, shush up, and suck.”

I laughed because Daisy hated to curse and I found it adorable. She was like an elementary school teacher who got dropped into New York City and into our group like a fish out of water. She even looked the part. Honey colored hair bounced in wild curls around her oval face. Her innocent brown eyes held an enthusiastic light that never seemed to dim, as if she woke up in the morning like a Disney princess and sung to the cartoon like birds in greeting. She was petite and cute, topping out at maximum five foot. Tortoise shell glasses only added to the adorable factor. I’d been surprised at Noah since she wasn’this usual type, but happy he recognized quality. Daisy had stolen all of our hearts.

I pounded the table with my fist.

“Suck it!” we all yelled together, then took the shot.

The tequila burned my throat and the tart citrus soothed the sting. The alcohol heated my veins and I felt better already. Screw Adam. I’d ignore him like I always did. Max leaned down and kissed me. His lips slid over mine with a familiarity I usually craved, but something felt a bit off. Knowing we had an audience, I returned the kiss with enthusiasm, evoking a little whoop from the girls.

“Get a room,” Elle teased.

“Like the bathroom?”

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