She shrugs a shoulder, amused. “I’m surprised you can’t handle it.”
She still hasn’t taken a sip of her own drink, so maybe she just doesn't want to admit it tastes bad. I lean over and grab two glass bottles of cola, using the bottle opener to crack one open and then offer the other towards Robin. I lift an eyebrow and she nods, the flush dying down on her cheeks as she coughs. Doingeven the smallest of things for her stokes a pleased fire inside me, remembering the guys said she appreciates acts of service and I can definitely cater to that.
“Oh, I don’t think there isn’t anything Wrenny can’t handle. Isn’t that right?” A sultry voice purrs from behind, causing me to flinch and spill a splash down myself. It’s my turn to flush now, as I wipe a flat palm down my shirt and finally take a steader sip.
Completely unphased that all three women shift uncomfortably, Willow sweeps long curls from her shoulder and fiddles with the straw bobbing in her glass. “What? We’ve been on some harder stuff before than a little pink drink.”
I go to speak, but I’m stopped by the adorable snort that comes out of Robin. “I doubt that. Wren doesn’t drink alcohol.”
I’m floored.Stunned. It’s my turn to look down at her doe eyed in astonishment. “How did you work that out?”
She shrugs shyly. “You’re not drinking—well, you haven’t had any alcohol all day. Phin didn’t attempt to pour you any and there’s a bottle of non alcoholic champagne on the drinks table.” The brain of this woman. I’ve never met anyone so observant; no wonder her crime fiction novel is woven together so intricately with details. I’m not half way through yet, but there are so many possible pathways her main character has to explore to unearth the murderer.
Willow tuts and leans past me, glaring at her. “Don’t be dim. Wren’s thrown some of the wildest parties, he obviously—”
“No she’s right. I’ve been sober my entire life actually, never touched a drop. Well, that ghastly cocktail doesn’t count. I just wanted to know why you didn’t like it.” Still marvelled, I’m trying to hide the wonder in my expression before I scare her off. My sobriety probably is a giant head fuck for some people. The media portrays me as a rock and roll bad boy; drinking hard, partying and sleeping with anything that has a pulse. I’ve never corrected any of them, I shouldn't have to. The fake narrativethe press sells lets me mask the people I love, like Phin. The first time I took the fall for a stupid, out of control party he threw, I allowed this monster media storm to be created.
To my shame I've always enabled him, and I don't know how to stop.
“If you don’t drink, why does everyone think you’re this massive party boy?” Robin’s question breaks me out of the guilty haze that tries to eat me alive, as always.
“My love, I’m not a boy.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she pushes my chest.
“Be serious.”
“Honestly, it’s easy for people to create a superficial narrative and not question what they believe is true,” I shrug. “I’ve never corrected them. Just because I write and sing songs a bunch of people like, doesn’t mean they’re entitled to my personal life.” It’s like I can see the clogs physically turning in her mind as she mulls my words over.
“I get that. It makes sense.”
I knock my bottle against hers, which she puts down instead of drinking. “So, you didn’t answer my question. What did you think of the song?”
“I mean you’re either incredibly behind on your top charts, or you asked Phoenix what song I wanted to hear tonight.”
“Knew it. You bloody loved every second of it.”
The more we talk the more we’ve both leaned into each other; it only just registered to me that one of my curls is touching her temple. I’ve slowly lent further against the bar so that we’re eye level, and she never moved from where she was pressed into my chest.
“What are you going to sing?” I ask, needing to know the answer more than I need air, which I know is insane.
Her eyes practically twinkle, “Guess.”
Straightening my legs out in front of me, I wiggle my shoes, pretending to really ponder over what her choice could be. “Easy, Fleetwood Mac—oh, you and Phin would do a great cover of Silver Springs.” I expect to be met with excitement, a little bat of her hand against my chest or at least some form of flirting, which I hoped was happening. What I least expect, is for Robin’s to take a giant step back as she straightens, leaving me feeling cold. In confusion I stand straight too, frowning as her lips become a firm line.
“God, am I that predictable?” Her voice breaks slightly, the question not really aimed at me.
“I'm sorry–what?” I splutter, feeling the need to apologise but I'm not sure what for. My Phoenix-senses tingle and I look past her to see him striding across the grass to us.
I feel immediately iced out, as he reaches for her and she steps into his embrace, both now ignoring me.
“Rob, I can see you scowling from across the garden, what's wrong?” he asks, her nickname tickling a memory, but I don't know which one, again. Protectively he raises a finger at me and I'm pretty much gawking, because I've never seen him this protective before. I think he's about to lay into me for potentially upsetting her, but she steals his attention.
“Am I utterly transparent? Am I giving off some sort ofI'm so kooky, Stevie Nicks is my spirit animalaura?” Fuck. I've clearly hit a nerve I didn't know about.
Shaking my head slightly frantic, I slowly reach for her elbow so that he doesn't shove me away. I give her a little squeeze, her expression is vulnerable.
“Love, I'm messing with you. I'm sorry. I saw the sign up sheet and what song you chose.” Another apology leaves my lips and I hardly recognise my words, I can't recall the last time I apologised to a woman in well, ever. My hand automatically reaches for hers and I run my index finger down the back of herhand. She gives me a small smile in return, but I can see she’s already spooked. The spark we'd forged together snuffed.
Nodding curtly, she walks across the garden in the direction of the band and I practically slump against the bar, draining the rest of my drink. The cola fizzes against my throat and burns.
