"If I were you, I’d break up with that asshole," I supply matter-of-factly.
She takes another swig of beer, then offers me the bottle. I accept it, my fingers brushing against hers as I take it from her hand. I bring it to my lips, the cool glass still warm from her touch. It's a small thing, sharing a drink like this, but it feels intimate somehow. Like a secret has passed between us. An almost kiss.
"So, you never answered my question," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "What happened tonight?"
I shake my head. "You're never going to let me live it down, huh?"
"You’ll be all over YouTube tomorrow morning," she says, her sarcasm evident. "Haters will eat you up for those fuckups."
"Ouch." I clutch my chest in mock hurt. "You really know how to wound a guy's ego."
She grins, unrepentant. "Hey, I call it like I see it. And what I saw tonight was a shit player who couldn't keep up with his own band."
I raise an eyebrow, taking another sip of beer before handing the bottle back to her. "Oh, is that right? And I suppose you could do better?"
"Damn straight," she says, rolling her shoulders and popping her hips before she does a very convincing imitation of a bass player on stage.
I laugh, charmed by her confidence. "Well, maybe you should give me lessons sometime."
"Maybe I should." Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "But I don't know if you could handle it. I'm a tough teacher."
"I think I could handle anything you dish out," I say, my voice low and full of promise.
The air between us crackles, just like it did once before. I find myself leaning closer to her, drawn in by the heat of her body.
She doesn't pull away, her gaze locked on mine. I'm tempted to erase the distance completely, to taste her lips, to see if they're as soft as they look.
But I don't. Because as much as I want her, I know it's not the right time. Not when she’s someone else’s girl.
So I pull back, clearing my throat and looking away. "Anyway, I should probably get going. Early morning tomorrow and all that."
She nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face before she schools her features into a neutral expression. "Yeah, me too."
"Hey, you’re gonna be alright…with your boyfriend?—"
"I’m sleeping on the crew bus," she says before I finish my sentence.
"That’s good." The idea of her sharing a bed with Jett makes me sick to my stomach.
"Yeah. They’re cool." Wendy moves, just a half step, as if to let me know she really does need to go.
The conversation comes to a natural stop, and I find myself grabbing at my laminate attached to my belt.
"Here," I say, unclipping the pass and holding it out to her. "Come see us tomorrow."
Wendy’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her delicate features as she takes in the offering.
She reaches out, her fingers grazing mine as they close around the pass. I wonder if she did it on purpose. A shiver runs through me at the contact, a jolt of something primal and unmistakable. Wendy studies the pass, turning it over in her hands. The dim light catches on the holographic logo, casting shimmering reflections across her face.
"You sure that’s okay? I know they don’t make extras."
"Yeah. Totally. I’ll just tell my manager I lost it." I shrug, trying to play it cool even as my heart hammers against my ribs.
"I don’t know… After what Jett pulled earlier, maybe your manager won’t want me there."
"Not his call. Besides, I think it’s bullshit that you got kicked out. Wasn't your fault. Jett’s the one who made it into a problem when there was none. Management’s already talking about removing Sonic Trash from the bill after this tour leg is over."
"Are you serious?" Fear crosses Wendy features. "Shit. Really?"
