Page 79 of Hollow Heart

He offers one crystal glass to me. “You look like you need a drink.”

I almost tell him no. But as I look around at everyone else, all schmoozing it up for press for this damn kickoff tour, I cave.

I grab the glass, my fingers brushing against his tattooed knuckles. I take a sip. It’s some fruity shit that is most certainlynotvodka, that someone like Dare should be embarrassed to be drinking in public, but it isn’t terrible. It’s likely ninety percent sugar, so I suppose it’s better than nothing.

“Thanks,” I murmur, licking my lips.

“What’s your problem tonight, sourpuss?” He laughs, his vibrant red contacts catching the light. He runs a free hand through his jet black gelled hair, shaking his head a bit.

“Excuse you?”

“You’ve been in the fucking corner, watching the damn door since you got here. Either you’re waiting for a supplier—” He licks his lips, grinning at me.

Of course, that’s why he’s here. He wants drugs.

“Nope. Not my cup of tea anymore. That’s Sully’s department.”

Dare raises his eyebrows. “You going cold turkey clean, Hart?”

The surprise in his voice makes me loathe myself even more. Because the way he says it, is the same way a kid says “Santa’s not real?” Like they don’t fucking believe it.

I take a long pull of my sugary punch disguised as an actual drink, and shrug.

“Maybe, I just want to stop feeling like fucking trash when I wake up.”

Maybe, I just want more.

Is that so fucking crazy?

Dare shakes his head as he drains his drink. “I ain’t judging you, man. You do what you gots to do,.” he slurs.

Something about his words makes me feel like he’s hiding something, but what, I can’t tell.

“Oh my God, Lixxxy!” Jinger singsongs and I roll my eyes.

Dare laughs, passing his drink off to a waitress as Jinger saunters over to us, dragging Geo Graves, the lead singer ofGravediggerwith her. His black shirt is popped open, displaying his giant medieval cross tattoo that spans his entire chest and abdomen.

I’ve lost track of how many tats I’ve acquired, being as half of them were acquired when I was drunk, but Geo’s got to be the only one on the label withonetattoo.

Even Jinger has, like, four. All strategically placed, of course, to heighten her sex appeal.

Like butterflies are considered sexy.

Whoever came up with that idea is an idiot.

“I’ve been looking for you all evening,” she coos as she abandons Geo, throwing her arms around me, rocking me and making my drink slosh.

I peel her off of me as Dare and Geo chuckle.

“Yes, well, I can’t return the sentiment,” I mutter as she pouts.

“You’re such a killjoy,” she mewls, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I am so ready for this fucking show next week.” Geo groans, rubbing his neck.

Dare shrugs. “Ready for the flashing lights and the screaming fans.”

Geo chuckles. “The only screaming is going to be for you to get off stage,” he razzes Dare.

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