“I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.” His lips couldn’t pull any wider with his smile, as if he just won the jackpot. Only he didn’t. He lost.
“Fucking liar.” I don’t need his pity.
“Nope. The truth. Now, come on. We had a deal and Dr. Bailey is waiting at the bus for you.”
I grind my teeth together because this is crap. He’s letting me win. I don’t need anything handed to me. I don’t need him playing parent or protector. I’ve taken care of myself just fine on my own.
“This is bullshit,” Austin complains and I turn my chin to level him with my stare.
“I agree.”
“You can’t change the rules to Wing Challenge. You won, Lexi. Now, let’s go.” Trent’s shit-eating grin never leaves his face as he stands from the table and steps besides my chair. Waiting.
“What’d I miss?” Sean strolls up to the table looking ten times better.
Trent opens his mouth to answer but snaps it shut when I narrow my gaze in a glare.
Screw him. I shoot him one last scowl and take a swig of water before climbing off the high top chair. I stomp out of the restaurant without a second look, and leave them to pay the bill.
Not fifty feet from the restaurant, they catch up and I have to listen to Austin complain about this being a violation of their stupid decision making process. Idiots. All of them. My stomach groans and gurgles in agreement, and the sweat from before cools with the breeze. My body shakes with chills. I was stupid for even partaking in this pointless challenge after the night I had. I better not get sick. Again. Not when we have a show to play in only six hours. I wish I could hit the reset button on this entire day.
Sean catches up to me, jogging until he’s at my side. “Why so glum, Lex? You get your own room! That’s fucking awesome.”
He’s right. I should be happy with the outcome. Only I’m not. And that’s because I feel played. Cornered into a cheap win when I could have accomplished it fair and square on my own. I know I could. “How many times have you won Wing Challenge?”
“Let me count.” He holds his hands out in front and pretends to add up a multifaceted equation. He covers his mouth to cough out, “Once,” and his lips twitch up at the sides.
“That’s pitiful.” I nudge him with my shoulder.
“Pretty bad. But Austin’s never won, though he came close twice. Trent used to lose to Derek, but since he quit the band ...”
“Trent always wins,” I finish for him, the words sour on my lips.
“Until you, you badass mother trucker.” When I don’t smile at his joke he wraps his arm around me and pulls me so I’m tucked into his side. “Come on, Lex. A win’s, a win. You should be rubbing it in his face.”
Maybe that’s why I’m so angry. Because I can’t tease Trent the way I would have if I’d won for real. My irritation has nothing to do with my inability to take help from others. Nope. Not one bit.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Sean murmurs so only I can hear. Trent and Austin follow behind, but they lag enough I can’t make out what they’re saying.
“Sure. I’ll bite.” I have a feeling whatever he’ll say next is supposed to make me feel better.
He tightens his hold around my shoulders so we’re touching sides, then hunches lower so his head tilts to mine. “This.” He squeezes my shoulder with a wink. “Is totally pissing Trent off.” He laughs, a low throaty chuckle, and my own lips soften the scowl. For some reason that does make me feel slightly better.
“You guys love giving each other shit, don’t you?”
“But of course. It’s in the bandmate guidebook.”
“Happy I could help.” I roll my eyes.
“Better run before I shit my pants.” Sean drops a peck of a kiss on my cheek and jogs off toward the buses. I keep my laughter to myself, and take the longest strides my shorter legs can manage. Sean’s insight and kindness, however idiotic, leave me feeling marginally better, but I need to hustle if I’m to meet with a doctor before sound checks.
The bus comes into view after a few more minutes of walking, and my phone vibrates from my back pocket. I know exactly who it is, even without checking—she always calls at the worst moments. I glance to the side and catch Trent’s curious stare. He opens his mouth to speak and I reach for my cell and say hello before he can get out more than “I just—”
“Happy birthday, Lexi!”
“Oh, God. Not this again.” I cringe because I know the singing is coming next. “Mom, it’s not my birthday.”
“It is! You know we celebrate it all month long.”
