“Stop being such a downer. I brought you a beer. Thought you might need a breather.”
“I think they need one more than me.” I gesture at the band, who all look pleased with themselves but thoroughly exhausted as they sag against the various kitchen implements.
“Cole brought whiskey.”
He holds the bottle aloft, and Code Ventura’s frontman cheers.
“It’s hot in here.” I pluck at my sweaty shirt as Cole starts serving up whiskeys. “Anyone want to stand in the alley for a bit?”
They’re all too concerned with the distribution of alcohol to wander away just yet, but Roxanne follows me outside.
“Is it just me, or would that Ingrid girl be enough to make even a right wing conservative question their sexuality?” I comment.
“Oh, it’s not just you. I’ve met her at label events a few times, and she has that effect on everyone. She’s like Montreal’s answer to Ruby Rose. I’m pretty sure half the people who showed up here tonight are just looking to get a shot at Ingrid.”
“Whatever gets them buying shots at my bar.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “I can’t believe you pulled this all together so fast. I mean, Icanbelieve it, but I’m just so happy it worked this well.”
“Let’s hope Fucking Félix Fournier feels the same. Speaking of which, he was supposed to call me earlier tonight.”
I pull my phone out to check for messages. I haven’t got any, but thereisa new text.
“What?” Roxanne questions as I stare at the screen. “Fucking Félix Fournier doesn’t put that kind of sly grin on your face. It’s the Wine Guy, isn’t it?”
That’s her chosen sobriquet for Julien, and she asks about him much more often than I’d like to discuss the subject.
“I thought you said you were going to stop texting him,” she sing-songs.
“I was. I did. I just—I don’t want to be rude,” I stammer. “He keeps textingme.”
“Have youtoldhim to stop texting you?”
I’ve meant to. I really have. After how close we got on our date over a week ago, I’ve realized just how important it is that I cut the cord. I might have blamed the beer at the time, but the truth is all the reasons to stay away from him dissolved like snow in sunshine before I’d even taken my first sip. I knew I wanted to go home with him the second I saw him standing outside Frango Tango in that stupid hat.
Quite simply, I wanted him. I still want him.
And I have to stop.
Tonight’s success is just more proof of the fact. Everything I’m doing right now is in the hopes of stopping him from reaching his goals, and everything he’s trying to accomplish is about taking the things I love away from me.
Not exactly the basis for a healthy and fulfilling relationship.
“I will. He still doesn’t know I work at Taverne Toulouse, and there’s no way he won’t find out someday. I have to tell him myself or I’ll seem like a total insane person. I just haven’t figured out how to do that yet.”
“I still can’t believe he doesn’t know where you work,” Roxanne chides. “You’re already going to seem sort of insane.”
I put my phone away and glare at her. “Not helping.”
“Sorry. You’re so much better at this advice giving thing than me.”
“Unless it’s about clothes.”
The door to the kitchen opens, and a blast of EDM and thumping bass escapes into the night.
“It’s getting rowdy in there,” Cole announces. “You might want to check it out, Monroe.”
Roxanne and I share a concerned look before heading back inside. I leave my beer in the kitchen and make my way to the front. Up on stage, Zach’s roommate, Paige, who happens to moonlight as a DJ, is bent over her gear. She shifts in time with the beat, seemingly oblivious to the full-on mosh pit forming in front of her. People have been screaming all night, but now the sound has a wild, feral edge that it didn’t before.
