“Your brother may be overreacting,” Abel consented. The fact that he didn’t argue with my self-assessment made my heart sink. “You don’t seem particularly shaken by the incident.”
“It wasn’t a big deal. If anything, it’s a good story I’ll be telling people for years.”
Abel chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose it’ll be a fun one to tell at parties.” His expression turned thoughtful as he crossed his arms. “All right, let me give you some advice. I grew up in foster homes where I always managed to escape unwanted supervision using one simple trick. Don’t argue with Cole about him keeping an eye on you. All you need to do is make him think you’re totally fine with what he’s doing. He’ll start to relax when he sees that. His focus will slip, and he’ll get absorbed in his own business. When that happens, you’ll be able to do whatever your little heart desires.”
Would that really work? Normally, my brother wasn’t particularly responsible. When he and Ezra were teenagers, my mom would always joke that without Ezra, Cole would never show up for anything on time. The diligent overprotectiveness he was displaying now must be taking a serious effort.
I smiled at the singer. “That’s good advice.” Tonight, when we got to the club, I was going to test it out.
* * *
We arrivedat the industrial SOMA neighborhood a few hours later, and the bus stopped in front of the club’s private back entrance. Loud but muffled EDM was blaring through the gray concrete walls.
Cole helped me off the bus and held my hand. “I know you don’t like crowded spaces. We have a private area upstairs that won’t be too packed,” he told me.
“Sounds good.”
I was about to follow the rest of the guys to the doorman standing outside with a clipboard, but Cole tightened his grip on my hand. He took me aside. “Ivy, make sure you’re always in sight of at least one of us, okay? I don’t want you getting lost in there.”
I narrowed my eyes and held back the urge to snap at him. I wasn’t some clueless idiot. “Okay, will do.” My lips pulled back into a fake smile, following Abel’s advice.
Cole’s expression relaxed. “Great. You know, I was surprised when Mom said it was your idea to do this. It didn’t seem like something you’d be excited about. I thought maybe you’d really changed since I last saw you, but now that you’re here, I can tell you’re still the same.” He smiled at me. “You’re a good kid. Much better than I was when I was your age. You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, and you haven’t even started to date, based on what Mom and Dad tell me. Sorry if I’ve been a little heavy-handed with the supervision. It’s like I forgot who I’m dealing with.” He laughed to himself.
I grit my teeth, not finding anything funny in his words. All I heard was that he thought I was a big hopeless loser. Was I going to prove him wrong? Could I?
“Yep, still the same Ivy,” I muttered.
We signed the NDAs and made our way inside the club. The opening band and their entourage were already milling about in the cordoned-off area upstairs. The industrial exterior of the warehouse contrasted sharply with the plush decor—velvet sofas and intricate wrought iron coffee tables littered through out the space, a few of them occupied by women in heavy makeup and tattooed men.
While Cole greeted people he knew, I went up to the railing and looked down at the main floor. Hundreds of bodies writhed and danced, their sweat glistening in the strobe of the lights. I felt uncomfortable just looking at them, but another part of me wished I could turn off my irritating fear and join the masses below.
I walked along the perimeter of the upstairs area, mapping it out in my head. A number of intimate lounges branched off to the sides, but they were empty at the moment. I stopped when I reached the bar and leaned back against the counter to watch my brother and his bandmates. They stood close to each other, talking to VIPs and roadies, and slinging back shots delivered to them by thin servers perched on platform heels. Cole was in his element, greeting people with a giant grin and saying things that made them laugh. It was so effortless for him.
Why is it so difficult for me?
I looked away. It wasn’t fair that Cole was the kind of person that everyone was drawn to, while I was a miserable wallflower.
Cole glanced in my direction a few times, but the longer I stood in one place, the less frequently he turned to me. It seemed like Abel’s advice was spot on. Now that Cole thought I was making his job easy for him, he was happy to drink and let go.
I scanned the area for a place where I could check my coat. On the drive over, I’d changed my outfit to another dress that Sophie had helped me pick out. It was a fitted number, sleeveless, with a deep V-neck, and hem that reached about mid-thigh. The color was a bright ruby red that I matched with my lipstick. I didn’t want to risk Cole protesting about it, so I’d covered up with a leather jacket. Now I was ready to get rid of it.
The bartender directed me to a hallway that led to the bathrooms. I checked my jacket and popped into the ladies room to fix my makeup. Inside, I stared into the mirror and took a few deep breaths.
You can do it. Go back out there, introduce yourself to people, and make conversation.
Besides my brother’s immediate crew, no one knew who I was, which meant I could be anyone. I held onto this thought as I fixed my lipstick and did one final check in the mirror.
I emerged from the bathroom and saw that Ritual Disruption had arrived with their hangers-on. An uncomfortable feeling rose in my throat, immediately erasing the bit of confidence I’d been able to channel just moments earlier. The previously spacious upstairs area was now full of people dancing and trying to shout over the music. I spied Ezra at the bar ordering a drink, but when I looked toward Cole’s earlier spot, he was gone.
Someone bumped into me, and I jumped back, startled. There were too many people here, their voices cutting through the music from all directions, boxing me in, and making me claustrophobic. The need to escape hit me with urgency just as my gaze landed on the closest dimly lit lounge.
I skirted past the bodies and ducked inside. It was quieter and considerably less busy. I took a deep breath—someone was smoking.
In one corner, Jamie sat on a long leather sofa, his tongue glued to some blonde’s neck. My gut churned nervously at the sight of him. Was he as messed up now as he’d been back in that dressing room? Some part of me wanted to check on him and see if his nose was okay, but I knew it was a bad idea. I couldn’t risk another incident with him, not when Cole was only starting to give me space.
Before I could survey the rest of the room, a man in a black suit appeared in front of me. “Excuse me, miss. This is a private area.”
I stumbled over how to respond. “Uhh—I’m—”
