Holy fuck.
“You see that tall fucker over there?” he asks.
“Reed? Yeah. What about him?”
“That guy there means guaranteed pussy,” he says.
Oh my god.
This jackass is theworst.
“And being in the band also means guaranteed free drinks,” he goes on.
I stare at him in disgust. “So… free drinks and pussy. That’s your motivation?”
“It sure as fuck isn’t the masked guy’s writing. Prick. He’ll get what’s coming to him,” he says, muttering the last dig against his cup. He takes another sip of his drink and peers me over. “You’d do the same, wouldn’t you? Anything for a line of wet hoes ready to pull their skirts up just to say they fucked a band member.”
Ex-fucking-scuse me?
It’s the predatory smirk on his lips that has my insides curling.
Thisboyis a stain on the human race.
“So you admit the only reason any girl might give you attention is because you’re in a band with hotter members than you?” I ask.
His jaw ticks. “I’m saying it’s an easier in,” he argues. “Less work.”
“Ha. Less of a chance they’ll say no, you mean,” I counter.
Rad stares at me, chewing on the inside of his mouth as if he’s getting ready for a fight.
I wish he would.
Come on, fucker.
He shifts in his seat and takes another sip of drink. “What are you insinuating?”
“If the shoe fits,” I say.
He visibly grinds his teeth, fingers whitening on the bottle in his hand. The motions make me scoff, and I crack my knuckles to try and keep my hands busy, so they don’t land in Rad’s eye socket.
“Unlike you, I don’t need a drum kit or a stage to get either of the things you’re bragging about,” I say. “Just makes me that much more irresistible.”
The bartender slaps two more shots of vodka onto the stretch in front of us, and I grab both of them this time.
Rad stares as I kick them back.
“Have a good set,” I say before pushing off the bar. “Dick.”
“What was that?”
I don’t bother turning around. He isn’t worth me losing my cool over—at least not tonight.
God, I hope this guy gets what he deserves one day.
I’m on my way out back to smoke a cigarette when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I go ahead and put a cigarette between my lips and push the door open before grabbing my phone and answering.
“Mom. I told you I’d call tomorrow,” I say to her.
