Page 57 of I Need You Tonight
Jared and Kirk handed their instruments to the roadies. Relief brushed Nolan’s face when a roadie handed him his guitar case.
“You guys want to hit the sports bar around the corner and get in a few rounds of pool while we wait?” Kirk asked.
“Let me guess, puck boy,” Mason said. “The L.A. Kings are playing tonight.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m not ready to get on the bus yet.”
The guys agreed with that. All were still buzzed from their amazing performance.
The security guard was less concerned about us leaving than he had been about us entering the arena. But it also could’ve been because the man was busy with two groupies who were attempting to seduce him into letting them sneak in. Either the man was a dedicated employee or he just wasn’t interested. Before the doors closed behind us, I caught him telling them, “No backstage passes, no entry.”
Since we didn’t have tons of time before the show ended, we ran across the parking lot in the direction Kirk remembered seeing the bar. As we ran, water droplets splashed against me. Not many at first, but by the time we got to the other side of the parking lot, the rain was coming down hard and the air had a brisk nip to it.
Which meant two things when we entered the bar—my peasant blouse was now wet and clung to my body, and my nipples were tight buds, pressing against my thin cotton bra. And thanks to the state of my top, you couldn’t miss my situation.
The leers of the two men standing at the bar entrance confirmed this. “Hey, sweetheart,” one said. “How about you and me get acquainted?” His gaze dropped to my chest and got stuck there.
“She’s with me,” Mason growled, doing his best angry-bear impression. I’d be scared if I were those two jerks. He parked his hand on my lower back, marking his territory. At least he didn’t try to piss on me.
“We’re willing to share,” the man said, who had consumed way too many beers over his lifetime. Think Santa, minus the jolly.
“Well, I’m not,” Mason ground out, jaw clenched. I could practically hear his perfect white teeth grinding.
“Thanks for the offer,” I said to the not-so-pleasant-to-look-at men, “but he’s more than enough man for me.” Without waiting for their reply, I rushed into the building, my heart pounding a little harder and a little louder from the confrontation. It also pounded a relieved rhythm at the way Mason protected me.
The air inside the bar was warmer than outside, but not enough to warm up my nipples or dry off my white top. I crossed my arms in front of me, taking in the inside of the place and doing everything I could to avoid eye contact with the other members of band. Humiliation burned inside me when I thought about how the four of them would interpret what I’d said to the jerks at the entrance. Nolan, Jared, Kirk, and Aaron already knew Mason and I had screwed each other before I joined them on tour.
Kirk made a beeline for the other side of the bar, glancing at a large TV screen with a hockey game on it as he walked past. Mason indicated for me to follow, his hand still on my lower back.
It didn’t take me long to realize where we were headed. Kirk parked himself at one of two unoccupied pool tables. Jared and Nolan claimed the other one and began setting up the balls.
Kirk removed a stick from the wall and handed it to me. “Nicole, you’re with Mason.”
I vehemently shook my head. “Oh, I’m not playing. I’m the worst at this game.”
“That’s okay, so is Aaron.” That got a “Hey” from the keyboardist. Kirk threw him a well-you-are look that left me giggling. “This way we’re evenly matched.”
“We’re not betting, are we?” I couldn’t handle the pressure of that, even if the stakes were low. And given my family history with gambling addiction, it wasn’t something I even wanted to risk.
Kirk’s gaze flicked briefly to Mason, then back to me. “No betting. It’s just a friendly game.”
“Okay, then—I’m in.”
Kirk had been right: Aaron sucked at the game as much as I did. I wasn’t even sure why he and I were playing, other than for the comic relief. Instead of tension cramming the small space, we were laughing and having fun. The guys teased each other mercilessly, which had me laughing harder. And this, of course, caused me to mess up my shots even more than I normally would. Wow, who’d have thought it was even possible?
The waitress who had taken our orders returned with our beers. She clearly knew who the guys were, and she hung around for a few minutes, flirting with them. Or at least she tried to. Jared and Nolan were involved in a heated game and pretty much ignored her. Not that I believed for a second they would’ve flirted back even if they weren’t playing. Even with the most brazen of fans, the two men were polite, but that was about it.
She didn’t have much luck with the rest of the band either, which surprised me. Other than being polite to her, they were more interested in playing pool than in living the stereotypical life of a rock star.
“You’re up, Nicole,” Aaron said. The waitress heaved a sigh and walked away.
I gulped down some of my beer. Maybe the secret to nailing a shot was being a little buzzed. I didn’t actually believe that, but it was worth a try.
I walked around the table, pretending to survey the situation. All the shots looked impossible to my untrained eye. I settled on one possibility and got into position.
Before I had a chance to tap the white ball, Mason came up from behind me and grabbed the end of my cue.
“Hey, that’s cheating,” I said, coming close to pouting and glaring at him over my shoulder.
