My knees give slightly, and I brace myself against the stool.
Fuck, I went too far. One drink too far. I bypassed the sweet spot and went full blackout.
Dammit.
Annoyance and frustration thread through me.
Except something doesn’t feel right.
Shake it off.
I run a dull finger over her jaw and try to ignore the itching tension in my muscles.
Or… I think I do.
I think I speak.
But one look down, and I realize my arm hasn’t moved from the bar.
Fuck, where’s Reed? Zeb?
I blink and look around us, trying like hell to search for their faces in the blurry crowd. “Sorry, I don’t… I need to find my band. We’re leaving soon—”
“Let me take you back,” she says, and I feel her hand touch my waist.
Am I standing?
“I can take care of you,” she goes on.
“No, my band… We’re leaving,” I say. “I’m okay, pretty girl. You can take care of me at the next stop.”
Her chuckle is an echo. “Come with me now, Bonnie. Blow them off. We’ll catch up to them later. It’s okay. The next city is Nashville, right?”
Where is Reed…
Zeb…
I have to get it together. I wish I had water, a soda, something.
Play cool.
“Someone is eager,” I say, forcing myself to flirt. I reach over and push her hair behind her ear. “I can’t, though. I have to go.”
“Stay with me,” she begs. “I thought we were going to play. That kiss has me eager for tonight.”
“We will, pretty girl,” I say, and I wish my voice sounded more firm. “We will. Before the next show. I’ll meet you at the venue. I have to…”
“Come on, Bonnie,” she laughs. “I have you. Let’s go—Sorry, no, she’s okay,” she says to someone, her arm wrapping around my waist.
My feet are moving. Her grip is tight enough to keep me upright, and I keep my pace in sync with hers.
Hang on.
The guys.
I shouldn’t be leaving with her.
“Wait, my band.” I try to push out of her grasp, yet all I hear is her apologizing to another person. “Zeb. I need to find Zeb.”
