My pulse quickens as I take her in under better lighting. Fuck, she’s even more stunning than I thought. She’s standing ramrod straight, hands clasped in front of her as she looks around the room at anything but me. I blatantly scan her from head to toe, watching her fidget under my attention.
There’s not a single wrinkle on her clothes, nor a perfect golden hair out of place. She looks like she belongs in a sorority—in her pretty little skirt—not some seedy bar, watching a bunch of assholes play punk music.
I stroll past her and grab a beer, using the table to pop the top off.
“Ladies, excuse his lack of manners.” Trav waves to me. “I’m Travis. That’s Penn.”
Barbie doesn’t flinch.
Her friend says, “Hi! I’m Ellie. This is Olivia. Thanks for inviting us. You guys killed it tonight! I’m a huge fan.”
I wait for Olivia to chime in, to agree with her friend, orcompliment us, but she doesn’t. She just stares at the floor as if it’s more fascinating, not even cracking a smile.
Travis beams, probably eating this shit up. Even though we’ve been playing together for years, the last few months have been our best. We started playing actual bars and small venues, not just people’s backyards and garages. As long as we can play music, that’s all we care about, but getting paid is a nice bonus. We do like to eat.
Tanner has done a hell of a job getting us gigs and growing our social media presence. We’ve been steadily gaining listeners, and women have started to notice us, which Travis loves more than any of us. He takes a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to him, and Ellie sits down. “Want a drink?” He holds an unopened bottle of beer toward her.
“Thanks,” she says, using her shirt to twist the cap off before taking a drink.
“How about you?” He grabs another, holding it toward Barbie.
She resembles a deer caught in headlights when she finally peels her eyes off the stained linoleum. “Uh, no, thank you. I’m driving.”
“We can get an Uber,” her friend urges.
Something passes between the two before Barbie relents and accepts his offering. I take a seat on the other couch and pull out my phone, responding to my mom’s last text and letting her know I’ll call her later.
“Where are you girls from?” Travis asks, throwing his arm over the friend’s shoulder, all smooth and shit.
“We go to Brown and live near campus,” Ellie answers.
I glance up at Barbie, not surprised at all. She has the Ivy League, preppy girl look down pat.
“Smart and pretty,” Travis coos, and Ellie laughs.
My eyes fight to roll back in myhead.Christ.
“You going to stand all night?” I ask.
Olivia’s head slowly turns toward me and then to her friend, who is lost in a conversation with Travis now, paying her no attention. She purses her lips before reluctantly sitting, albeit as far away from me as she can get.
“Want me to open that for you?”
She glances at the beer in her hands. “No, thanks. I don’t really like beer.”Of course.I chuckle. Her eyes narrow, and she’s suddenly sassy when she asks, “What?”
“We have liquor, if that’s more your style.” I already know it’s not.
She eyes the bottles covering the table. Everything from vodka and whiskey to rum and mixers. This bar doesn’t pay much, but they’re good to us in other ways.
“No, thanks.”
“So, what do you like to drink?”
“I don’t know. I like wine and?—”
The knowing smirk that hits my lips has her clamping hers shut. Yeah, I bet she likes that fancy five-hundred-dollar bottle of wine they serve at the country club.
Travis stands, reaching his hand to Ellie. “Go with me to order food?”
