Page 33 of Whiskey Lullaby
“He’s more Meg’s type than mine,” I said in an attempt to deflect the fact that I found him hopelessly attractive. Funny how we do things likethat.
“Mmhmm.” She moved the glider back again, the springs squeaking. “Just be careful.” She patted mythigh.
Be careful, I agreed with that… whatever itmeant.
15
Noah
Trevor leaned against the side of the stage and set his drink down. “You lucky bastard, you’ve got it made.” He laughed, staring out at the crowdedbar.
I tuned my guitar. “Yeah, if pussy makes you a made-man, I guess so.” I rolled my eyes and plugged in my amp. “You’re anidiot.”
“Seriously, look.” He motioned with his chin toward the girls at the side of the stage primping and giggling like mindless bimbos. “You could have any ofthem.”
Sometimes I think growing up privileged makes you a dumbass. And by privileged, I don’t mean growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth, I mean growing up with more than one person that gives a shit about you. It must be hard to appreciate things of value when you have no idea what’s valuable. And girls like that—they aren’t valuable. They’re a distraction from your shitty life. “Man,” I said, taking a seat on the barstool, “any idiot can get a girl to fuckhim.”
“True, but only an idiot with a guitar can getanygirl to fuckhim.”
Laughing, I reached down, grabbed my drink from the floor of the stage, and took a sip. Over the rim of the plastic cup, I caught sight of Meg and Hannah walking in, and I grinned around my drink. Hannah was in a pair of faded jeans, her hair in a loose ponytail, and that made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the short skirts and tight dresses. It made my heart beat a little faster.Jesus, this isridiculous.
“What are you…” Trevor glanced over the crowd then slunk into the shadows of the stage. “Aw, shit,” he mumbled, pulling the bill of his ball cap down a little. “That’s Meg, isn’tit?”
“Yep,” I said, staring atHannah.
“Look, dude, I told you. Have at it, she’s batshitcrazy.”
“Are you fucking insane? I don’t wanther.”
“Then what were you…” Squinting, he took another survey of the crowd. “Oh, hell no. Hannah?” He lifted both brows. “HannahBlake?”
I smiled like a little shit, plucking the string of myguitar.
“She wouldn’t give you the time of day, she’sa—”
Hannah grinned and waved at me from the side of the room, and I waved back before looking over at Trev. “What wasthat?”
“Aw, she’s just being nice because you’re working for her dad. I’m tellingyou.”
“How about you just shut up and get drunk?” I stepped up to the mic and cleared my throat, strumming out the notes to the firstsong.
Toward the end of the first set, Trevor made his way to the bar, and there was Meg right behind him. She pretended to ignore him, sweeping her hair to the side. I never did get girls. I mean, she knew he was an ass, and yet, there she was watching him all googly-eyed. If I had to guess, she was waiting for him to look her way so she could pretend she wanted nothing to do withhim.
I kept singing, all my attention on Hannah, barely any on the words rolling from mylips.
When I finished the set, the girls at the front clapped. The rest of the bar didn’t give two shits about anything but their drinks and who they were taking home for thenight.
“Alright, well, that’s it for me. Now, y’all get to listen to that dance shit they play on Saturday nights.” I laughed before switching the mic off and packing my guitar up. I slipped my arm through the case strap and hopped off the stage, staring at the floor so I didn’t have to talk to any of the girls crowding aroundme.
At the edge of the dance floor, I noticed a guy with his arm braced on the wall, cornering Hannah in the back of the room. Her lips pinched in a frown, her jaw set. Hannah tried to move away from him, but he blocked her, and a fire lit my assup.
Some drunk stumbled across my path, and I shoved him out of the way. “Asshole,” he shouted, but I paid him no mind. I was focused on Hannah. Her eyes locked with mine over the dipshit’s shoulder, and I guess that’s what made him turn to look at me.Ah, hell. Max Summers.My jaw tensed, my hands automatically balled into fists. Pushing my shoulders back, I stepped between them and placed my arm around her, shooting him the back-the-hell-away-from-my-girl glare. “Come on, let’s go get drinks,” I toldHannah.
Just as I went to step around Max, a sarcastic smile spread over his face. “So,” he said, giving Hannah a fleeting glance before eyeing me up. “This is the kind of guy you go for now, huh, Hannah? Poor”—he squared up to me—“white”—then cracked his neck to the side like a WWF wrestler—“trash.”
Oh you sonofa…All I heard was a fight bell ding in my head.Clenching my teeth, I slid my guitar off my shoulder and rested it against a chair. God, my knuckles were aching to bust his noseopen.
Hannah placed her palm on my chest and subtly shook herhead.
