Page 44 of Broken Bridges

He twisted the wire off the top of the champagne bottle and tossed it on the table. He threw me an inquisitive glance. “You and Duke seem friendly.”

Was he jealous? That was laughable. “We’ve known each other a long time. I met him and his band a few years ago at Hayley’s Bar in Pasadena, where Cole and the guys used to play. I hung out with Chloe, his wife, who’s his sound engineer.”

“Oh. The dots connect.” The corners of his mouth curled into a small smile as he tore the foil off the champagne bottle. “The guys took me to Hayley’s for lunch two weeks ago. I met Molly, the owner. She adores Flint.”

I grabbed a flute off the tray of glasses sitting on the far end of the table. “Yeah, Molly tells everyone she kickstarted their career. I don’t think they’ve played there since Phil died—other than the few impromptu songs they did after Sutton coaxed Flint onto the stage last year.”

“Cole and Slip told me about that.” A tiny groove formed between his brows. “I didn’t know he struggled so much after Phil’s death and couldn’t sing, write, or play. That must’ve been tough.” He twisted and wriggled off the cork. Pop. No rocketing projectile was sent hurtling through the air.

“Losing him fucked us all up. But we’re finally moving on with you.” I held out the flute for him to fill in one hand and rubbed his forearm with the other. Without thinking, I ran my fingernails through the fine hairs on his arm, tracing the swirls of the tattoo on his skin.

Every muscle in his arm tensed. Panic darkened his eyes. He swallowed hard, lurching his Adam’s apple. “Yes, and here’s to not fucking that up.” He took the flute out of my hand and poured the champagne, angling the glass so it wouldn’t bubble over the top.

“I won’t let you.” I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. “You’re too good to lose.” I meant that with every cell in my body. I’d never do anything to jeopardize the band. Their success came first—it always had and always would. And I needed to protect my sanity and my heart. It was best to keep a safe distance from Lewis. More than three feet at all times.

But the problem was, sometimes when he looked at me...leaned into me...brushed his hand against my skin...I was convinced he wanted to do away with being just kindred spirits as much as I did.

Delusions did my head in.

I cracked the lid off my water bottle and took a sip. “Let’s go join the others. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He placed the champagne bottle back on ice. “I’d like that.”

After we gave Sutton and Flint their drinks, I introduced Lewis to Duke’s band—Evan, his bassist; Ezra, his lead guitarist; and Wolf, his drummer—Chloe, and a few other friends I knew. I took a seat next to Duke. Lewis sat opposite me, next to Chloe. I dug my elbow into Duke’s arm. “Congratulations on the record deal. That’s awesome.”

“Thanks.” Duke grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza from the box in front of him. “We’ll be forever in Sutton and Flint’s debt. After she took over our show at Hayley’s to sing to Flint, and the video went viral, everyone wanted to know who we were. Then Flint dropped our name to Everhide when they signed with them last year.”

“That’s so cool. When you release your album, I hope it goes to the top of the charts. After my guys’, of course.”

“I’d be down with that.” He took a sip of his beer then wiped his lips. “I can’t believe you’re still hanging out with your brother.”

“I actually live with him at the moment, and Lewis. But trust me, some days, I wish I could avoid them.” I shot a sly smile at Lewis.

He grinned, sipped his beer, and nudged my good leg under the table. “Where’s the fun in that?”

There was a fine line between fun and danger. Most of the time, I wasn’t sure which way the scales would tip.

Chloe waved her beer at me. “If you ever need a change of scenery, want to come see Duke and the guys play, help, or hang out with me, you give me a call.”

“I’d love that.” That was one promise I’d keep.

Throughout the night, we mingled and shuffled about, and I talked to and met everyone at the party. I filled Chloe and Duke in on the details of my injury; they were horrified but gave me a big hug and offered to help me in any way possible. It was sweet, but there was nothing anyone could do.

The party grew louder. The music was turned up, and the alcohol and laughter flowed. Beer morphed into vodka, and more tales of the fun and mischief both bands had caused on and off the stage were shared. I didn’t need to be reminded of the night Phil and I had let off a smoke machine in a hotel suite in San Diego, or the time I’d killed the lights at their gig in Reno, sending the entire venue into a blackout. It had been stupid fun at the time, but I wouldn’t do those things again.

Near midnight, my guys, Sutton and I lazed about on the outdoor sofa in front of the gas firepit. Cole had been making moves on Violet, one of Chloe’s friends, but he’d come over to join us. He kept giving her the sexy eye though. That was destined to end in a hookup. Go, Cole. Slip kept on texting someone on his cell phone. Flint and Sutton were snuggled together, kissing and whispering in each other’s ears.

Nothing helped to kill my Lewis vibe, especially when he sat next to me. Close. Too close. His bare arm kept brushing against mine, sending sparks across my skin.

So much for distance.

Ergh! I was done with this shit.

I needed to get laid.

Was that my problem?

It had been nine months since I’d last had sex with Rhett. Fuck, that was depressing. Would hooking up with a random hot dude for some no-strings-attached sex cure my Lewis addiction?

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