“Nah, I’m good.” I shrug, and with my eyes, I tell him,I tried to get rid of her.
Before I can sit down with them, two more girls join the other one at our table. The girl in the very back can’t even look at any of us, and it’s clear her friends are dragging her along.
“Hey, guys,” the original girl coos at her friends, and I take the opportunity to sit down. “This is Shawna and Macy. I’m Brittany.” She introduces all of them. Truth is, I didn’t even remember her name.
“Hello.” I’m the only guy that responds. I knew Memphis would ignore them, that would have been true even before Waylynn, but I figured Oz would at least be cordial.
“Hi,” Waylynn says hesitantly. I don’t blame her. The last time she was nice to a girl here, it backfired on her.
Memphis puts his arm on the back of the booth behind her—it’s a deliberate move to claim her—while Oz picks up her hand and kisses her fingers before their joined hands disappear under the table. It couldn’t have been choreographed better, and it wasn’t even planned. It does sort of leave me out to dry though, which sucks.
Brittany’s eyes are wide as she takes it all in. Her gaze roams over the three of them with undeniable interest.
“Are you guys here to see Bates?” Waylynn asks, filling the silence that was more than awkward.
“Yeah, we have a friend who works here. She told us he was amazing, and we didn’t want to miss it.” Brittany glances at me again.
“He is enthralling,” Waylynn agrees. My chest swells with the compliment, and I send her a wink.
“Well, thanks for stopping by, it was nice to meet you guys.” I try to dismiss them again, hoping one of them will take the hint. The girl in the back tugs on her friend’s shirt sleeve, proving she does, but the other two ignore it.
“We were hoping we could buy you a drink or something,” Brittany says, glancing around the table.
I answer for all of us. “No thanks, we’re all set.” I even hold up my beer that’s still more than half full and getting warmer by the second.
“We’ll be around all night if you change your mind,” Brittany says, still eyeing the group.
“Bye.” Waylynn waves before dropping her free hand to Memphis’ lap. She’s much more confident about her place with them this time, and it’s good to see. “Are you excited? I have butterflies for you,” she says the moment the other girls turn away.
“A little nervous,” I admit. I’ve only ever done small-town fairs on a Saturday, and those are usually pretty laid-back.
“You’ll be amazing,” she tells me.
“I’ll pretend it’s a private concert just for you guys,” I tease.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather imagine us naked? I thought that worked on nerves,” Oz chimes in, dirty bastard.
I snort and tip my beer to him. “That’ll do.”
We bullshit for the next twenty minutes. The waitress stops by just before I’m about to get ready to head backstage. Waylynn and Oz order some fruity drink without alcohol, and when the waitress calls it a virgin, Waylynn flushes pink and looks down at her lap. Memphis kneads the back of her neck, and I notice the hickey is back on her throat. I wonder what they got up to this afternoon. Whatever it was, I’m sorry I missed it.
Memphis orders a soda. He very rarely drinks, and never around Oswald, which is fine by me. The last time I saw him drink, he got blitzed out of his head and started a fight that almost got him arrested.
“All right, fam, I’m going to head back,” I tell them once the waitress leaves to get their drinks.
“Good luck, but you don’t need it.” Waylynn bounces in her seat, but she stops abruptly as if she moved wrong.
“You okay? Hit your foot?” I question as she bites her lip.
“No, I’m fine,” she replies.
Memphis leans over and says something in her ear only she can hear. Her lips part, and her gaze gets hazy as her lids lower. When she bites her lip this time, it’s for a completely different reason.
Whatever he said turned her on. I can see it in the way her breathing changed and how she leaned even farther into his embrace. Damn, now I really want to know what he said.
I glance at Oz, who seems to be in on the secret, when he mouths, “Little sore,” to me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he’s talking about something sexual. I just don’t know if Memphis fucked her too hard or spanked her ass. I wish I did though. Maybe he’ll tell me later.
I get up from the table, grateful my dark jeans will do most of the work to hide the semi hard-on in my pants. “I hate missing out on what you guys have going on here, but I need to go.”
