He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the counter, gave me one last penetrating look, and ambled out of the kitchen.
After he'd gone, I clutched my cup tight, feeling my tense shoulders relax. Being interrogated like that hadn't done anything to soothe my nerves. I took another chug of my drink.
After only a few wrong turns, I finally made it to the back yard where, just as I expected, a dozen or so partygoers were lounging in a vast in-ground pool.
Without letting myself think twice, I shimmied out of my jeans and t-shirt, and laid them across a reclining chair with my purse, leaving me in my swimsuit. I knew a few of my scars would be on display, but they were small and faded enough no one would think twice. I could have gotten them from any sort of accident as a kid.
"Hey," a woman's voice called out. "Becca, right?" Jessie waved at me as she treaded water in the deep end of the pool. "Come on in, the water's amazing."
I tiptoed toward her in bare feet and gingerly sat on the edge of the pool, setting the bottle and cup next to me. I lowered my feet into the water and flinched. Jessie laughed and floated over to me.
"Too cold?" she asked.
"I'm sort of a wimp," I admitted. "I prefer my swimming pools to feel like a bathtub."
Jessie rested her arms against the edge. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"How's Gael feeling?" I asked, kicking my feet around in the water and taking a sip of my drink. It burned less than last time, instead leaving only a warming path through my insides.
"Doing well, considering he almost busted his head open," she said matter-of-factly. "But he tore a hole in Cameron's ceiling, so he's pleased with himself."
"Do I want to ask why the bassist of Cherry Lips has a rivalry with the bassist of Darkest Days?
"Cam's an obnoxious asshole," Jessie said with a grin. "He thrives on pissing people off. Gael gets riled up too easily. It makes him an easy mark."
"I thought your boyfriend actually seemed pretty easygoing," I said.
"He's also got an enormous ego," she said. "He hates not having it stroked."
"He and Nathan are pretty similar, then."
But I couldn't help remember the way Nathan had talked about his solo songs. He'd compared himself to his lead singer Cerise and said he'd never be as good as her. Maybe Nathan had a big head when it came to some things, like his guitar playing, but he did have moments of self-doubt. He wasn't the complete narcissist everyone thought he was.
Jessie noticed me going quiet and examined me with a careful eye.
"So you're the girl who's been hanging out with Nathan all the time lately?" she asked.
"I wouldn't say all the time," I replied. "But yeah, we've been hanging out. Why?"
"I've just never seen him with the same—" Jessie cut herself off, eyes going wide as she snapped her mouth shut with a flush.
My chest clenched with hurt. I looked down at my toes in the water, distorted by the waves, and fisted my plastic cup.
"Never seen him with the same girl twice?" I finished for her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't want to rub it in your face or anything."
"It's fine," I said. "I'm aware of his reputation."
It was true: Nathan's playboy ways were well known. At first, that had been a comfort. Playing around with a rock star meant no strings, just fun. There was no risk of getting attached.
But now…
I took a large gulp from my cup.
"I've been worried about him," Jessie said. "I know he has to be feeling like a third wheel."
I hummed noncommittally, not wanting to betray Nathan's trust and blab his innermost thoughts and feelings, even if Jessie had hit it on the nose.
