Page 87 of Drive
“Yeah,” I said after a deep breath. By the grace of God, the breeze had started to blow in a different direction, drying the sweat and cooling me down. I sighed in relief and then remembered Reid was there, somewhere in the sea of fans with his arms around another woman.
And I had sent him a six thousand dollar set of drums.
I hope his dick falls off.
Nate borrowed, well,stoletwo chairs from the middle of the dirt field and pulled them to the side, away from the horde. I stared at him. “From here?”
“Yeah,” he said as he motioned for me to join him. I took the chair next to him and he gave me a grin. “Best seat in the house.”
We sat side-by-side, talking for hours as some of the biggest bands in rock graced the stage.
And I missed every single one of them without an ounce of regret. But every so often, my eyes would wander into the crowd. My heart reminding me it was still on a loop.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Back to Black”
Amy Winehouse
In the leather seat of Nate’s Tahoe, I sat back, enjoying the silence, the break from the noise. I wanted nothing but a shower and my bed. Nate slowed to a stop in front of the sidewalk that led to my door. I turned my head his way and smiled. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. You got me off the hook.”
“That bad?”
“She thought Buckcherry was a lip balm.”
We shared a laugh as I gripped the door handle.
“Well, in that case, I guess we’re even. See you at work.”
“Yeah,” he said as he lingered, his eyes tracing my face, “’night.”
“’Night.”
Nate drove away. If I had just taken him up on one of his invitations, I wondered if things would have been different. If Reid would be just some guy I met in passing.
I was halfway toward the door when I saw the cherry of a cigarette land at my feet. I turned to see Reid leaning against his truck, his jaw set, brows raised, eyes filled with accusation.
He got in his truck and started it as I took a step toward him. Before I could even close the space, he squealed tires and drove away.
I stared after him, my head pounding, my insides playing ping-pong.
Ben opened the front door and looked toward Reid’s speeding truck.
“What the hell? Was that Reid?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Thanks for the heads up, asshole,” I said, pushing past him to see Lexi sitting on the couch. Her greeting smile dimmed as she heard me address Ben. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing, Ben just decided to keep it from me that Reid was back in Austin and banging some blonde.”
Lexi looked over at Ben, who shook his head. “He’s not back in Austin. He’s on his way home. He came for the festival. I didn’t think he’d show up here.”
“Well, he did. Do you know who she was?”
He shrugged. “No idea.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I scrubbed my face. “You should have told me.”
