Another minute goes by, and someone taps my shoulder.
Turning, I see it’s the girl to my left, sitting at the bar. She’s trying to let me know our drinks are ready.
And still, I don’t remove my arm.
I take my drink and slide it toward me on the bar before grabbing Damon’s and wrapping my other arm around his body to hand it to him.
The band is in full swing, and we stand no chance of hearing each other, so he just takes his beer without turning around.
Taking a quick gulp of my own, I down half of it and then return it to the bar top. As Damon and I stand there, pressed in on all sides by the bodies around us, the music and environment are tugging on my emotions, and the proximity to my best friend is making me feel possessive. In response to that, I put both of my hands on Damon’s hips and just rest them there. I can see over his head just fine, and if it isn’t Damon leaning into my space, it’ll be someone else. I’m sure we’re far over capacity from the standpoint of a fire hazard, and more people are still coming through the doors.
A couple of songs in, Damon moves out of my grip to use the bathroom. When he comes back, he purposely stands next to me instead of in front of me.
Maybe he’s kicking me out after all,I think to myself.
After another beer each, this weird tension between us hasn’t lessened any, so I lean over and yell into Damon’s ear.
“D, let’s go back to the house.”
“What? Why? Aren’t you having fun?” he asks, always concerned about how I’m doing.
“I am, but I don’t think you are,” I say truthfully. “Come on,” I insist, already trying to find the path of least resistance in the crowd. “The drinks will be cheaper, and we can take them in the hot tub,” I yell.
The ghost of an emotion I can’t quite place passes across his features, making me more determined to get whatever is going on out of him.
Once we’re back inside the quiet cabin, I realize now it’stooquiet. If I expect him to open up, he’s going to need something other than total silence.
“Want some background music?” I ask, moving to the little dock on the wall by the back door. “I think it connects to the speakers throughout the house and out on the deck.”
It’s actually a cool setup.
Damon nods.
“Shit. My phone’s on three percent battery. Can we hook yours up?”
He hands me his phone, asking, “What do you want to drink?”
“Whatever you’re having,” I reply.
“I think I’m gonna switch to water for a while,” Damon answers.
“What the hell for?” I ask.
Damon shrugs. “The hot tub always makes me queasy if I drink liquor. It’s like I get overheated, and the combination makes me sick. Did you forget what happened during spring break freshman year of college?”
“D, I willneverforget what happened. In fact, I wish Icouldforget it. Watching chunks of my best friend’s vomit float by while I was trying to mack on Savannah Niles is one of the most traumatizing things I’ve ever experienced.”
He laughs, and it finally eases some of the angst I’ve felt since we arrived. Whatever is weighing on him is weighing heavily onme as well, even though I don’t know what it is. But the longer he keeps it from me, the more it creates a wedge between us.
Almost as if he can hear me, he passes a beer to me and says, “Tomorrow. I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Nodding, I clink my bottle against his water glass, unsure if I feel better or worse.
“I’m gonna go change,” he says, heading toward his room. “And I’m going to lock the door this time, so don’t even think about trying to see my dick again.”
“I think it’s your dick that wants to seeme,” I tease, roasting him about the boner he got when I had him in a headlock. That’s probably not the nicest thing, but it’s better than pretending I didn’t see it. Hell, Ifeltthe fucking thing, and that warrants a joke.
Except, instead of laughing it off, Damon’s face has lost all color.
