“What’s her last name?”
“I don’t see what good that information will do,” I tell him.
He purses his lips but doesn’t push further. “Did they say anything else?”
Best sex of her life.
Knows how to use his tongue.
Got her off four times.
“There was some stuff about how I’m a whore. No big deal. Typical Saturday for me, actually.”
Before I can react, he pulls me into his arms and folds me against his chest. It takes a moment for me to relax into his embrace, but once I do, I feel a little better.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “I’m so sorry. This shit is so fucked up, Ivy. It’s insane that you have to deal with this.” I shrug my shoulders, but don’t respond. Just press closer into the safety of his chest until I can make out his heartbeat. “Do you want to skip the band? I’m sure Quinn will understand.”
“No,” I say, my voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. I’m not in the mood to be around people, sure, but I could use a distraction. “We should go. It will be…” I hesitate. “Fun.”
His chest rumbles with a snicker. “Real convincing, but okay. We’ll go.”
With that, we head to his car and drive to the venue, which is only ten minutes away from the restaurant. Wes parks along the street, and then we stand in the small line outside the bar. When we make it to the front, the bouncer checks our IDs and doles out wristbands—yellow for me since I’m under twenty-one, blue for Wes since he’s over. Then, Wes takes my hand and leads me inside.
“Quinn must be backstage,” I say, after scanning the room for signs of a shaggy, blonde head.
Hovering at the edge of the crowd, I pull out my phone to message her, but before I can type a word, Wes nudges my arm. “Over there.”
I glance up to see my friend weaving through the mass of people in our direction and give a wave. She waves back, but I notice her lack of enthusiasm the closer she comes.
“What’s the matter?” I ask her.
Quinn rolls her eyes. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Ray, the drummer, is drunk again, but what else is new?”
“They should make it illegal to drink and drum,” says Wes. “Can’t imagine it helps with coordination.”
Quinn snorts. “They’d be doling out DUIs left and right. But no. He still plays well, the bastard. He just gets arrogant and acts like a man-child.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s fine. It’s all fine. I’m just glad you guys came.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” I tell her, just as the lights start to dim.
There’s movement in the shadows on stage, and then the lights flare, revealing the four members of Alternative Cash. Quinn starts screaming uncontrollably, startling me with her fervor, but she’s not the only one. A group of girls up front almost climb on stage in their excitement. Who knew calm, quiet Remy had so many groupies?
Swaying in the ambient light as the music pulses around us, I concentrate on making my mind go blank. I don’t want to think about the bathroom or the forum. I don’t want to obsess over what Wes may or may not be thinking regarding our relationship. I just want to stand here next to Wes and Quinn and listen to the band like a normal, boring college student. Surely, I can manage that, can’t I?
More and more people filter into the bar during the first couple of songs, and the crowd around us thickens. Wes slips his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side, and I lean in, doing my best to keep the insecurities at bay and simply live in the moment. I even succeed in doing so for the next fewsongs, and by the time the band takes a break, I feel a bit more settled.
Wes bends his head so that his mouth is at my ear. “I’m gonna get a beer. Do you want anything?”
I crane my neck to look up at him. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Quinn, do you want something?” he asks my friend.
She shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thanks, superstar.”
He presses a quick kiss to my temple and then his arm falls away as he moves toward the bar. The crowd parts for him easily, and I pull my jacket tighter around my body, warding off a chill.
The moment Wes is out of earshot, Quinn grabs my arm. “So, how was dinner with the parents? I need details.”
“It was nice,” I tell her. “His parents are amazing.”
