Game On(30)

Or maybe that was the alcohol. My stomach heaved and both guys jumped out of the way as an evening of beer and peanuts emptied onto the sidewalk between them. I moaned, my emotions somewhere between embarrassed and exhausted. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed and forget this whole horrible evening had ever happened.

Nick snorted. “Nice one,” he said, ever the gentleman. I glared at him. If I felt sick again, I would make sure to aim better. At least get his shoes the next time. He loved those stupid leather shoes.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Nathan said, gently, but I ducked away.

“It’s literally across the street,” I pointed out, annoyed that he was still acting so nice to me. Why wouldn’t he just be a total jerk so I could be righteously mad at him? It wasn’t fair!

Nick was still standing there, still clutching his guitar. Looking at me like I was the one with the problem. Me! It made my blood boil. And then I remembered his question.

“You want to know what I think of the new lyrics?” I asked him. He nodded eagerly.

“Yeah,” he said, clearly feeling pretty proud of himself. “I think they were pretty good.”

“Fuck you, Nick.” I glared at him, pleased at the shocked look that crossed his face. “You dump me, get me kicked out of my apartment, randomly show up in Austin, and now you have the nerve to ask me about your f*cking lyrics?”

“I thought we were friends,” he stammered.

“You’re a selfish *,” I told him, poking him hard in the chest, enjoying each wince. “And I’m not friends with selfish *s.”

“I don’t know what you’re being such a bitch about,” he said, switching from hurt to angry. The petulance gave his voice an obnoxious whine. “Clearly you’ve already found someone new.”

“Shut up, Nick.”

“Bet you didn’t even wait until we were broken up.” He gave Nathan a once over. “Bet you were f*cking this guy while we were still together.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, throwing up my hands. “You are unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well.” He seemed to be searching for the right insult. “Well you’re a slut!”

I wasn’t afraid of him. He was a skinny little wannabe rocker. I could break him like a twig if I wanted. So I just narrowed my eyes at him, but Nathan’s face went dark.

“Hey.” Nathan’s voice was soft but firm as he approached Nick. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Nick seemed to notice Nathan’s size for the first time, doing the same double take I had done when I saw the band on stage. He looked back at me. “This guy, Sophie, really?”

“I think you owe her an apology,” Nathan said. He practically dwarfed Nick, not just in height, but in size. It was almost comical seeing them next to each other. Pale, waifish Nick in his tight black clothes serving as a shadow to Nathan’s broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, all-American jock in blue jeans.

If Nick were a smart man, he would have backed down. But smarts weren’t exactly what Nick was known for.

He gave Nathan a poke in the shoulder.

“I can talk to her however I want,” he said, straightening to his full height, still several inches shorter then Nathan. “Besides, who the f*ck are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t think you should go around calling women sluts.”

Nick laughed, but the sound died a quick death as Nathan stepped closer to him, leaning down until they were eye to eye. If I were Nick that would have been the moment where I ran away crying for my mama, but Nick held his ground like the idiot that he was. Still, I could see a flicker of fear in his eyes. Good, I thought.

“I think you should go back to the bar,” Nathan said, his voice still quiet, but with a dangerous undertone to it. If I wasn’t annoyed at him as well, I might have found his chivalry charming, but I had not forgotten that the only reason I had been in the same bar as Nick and his band tonight was because of Nathan. He wasn’t getting off so easily. Or getting off with me at all, I thought, proud of my resilience in the face of such hotness. And he was hot, his eyebrows furrowed and chest heaving.

“Whatever, dude,” Nick said, pushing away from him and turning to me. I glared at him, not backing down, even when he leaned forward and I could smell the pot on his breath. That nauseous feeling rose in my stomach again, but this time it wasn’t from the booze. How could I have stayed with him for so long? He stared down at me. “How long have you been f*cking him, Sophie?”

“I wish!” I gave him a hard shove, causing him to stumble back. I wanted him out of my face. “I wish I was f*cking him because god knows I haven’t been getting any from you.” I didn’t even have a chance to see how Nathan felt about that comment before Nick made his next, extremely ill-advised attack.

“Yeah, well, you were bad in bed,” he shot back.

My eyes narrowed. He had gone too far, the little shit. “I’m AMAZING in bed,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you would have touched me half as much as you touched your guitar—or yourself—you would have appreciated that!” I was so angry I was seeing red. “You were a terrible boyfriend!” I snarled at him. “And your new lyrics suck!”

Nick just stared at me, his whole body slumped in shock.