Connected (Connections, #1)(69)

Setting her down, he moves back slightly to rest his guitar against one of the four columns bracing the center of the room. He blindly locates my hand and laces his fingers with mine. She breaks their embrace and thumps him on the chest. “Where have you . . . ?” She doesn’t finish as her eyes flicker to our fingers. Her smile turns even bigger, and she eyes us curiously. She may even have a bit of confusion mixed in her very bright green eyes. She actually looks at our hands like she has never seen her Irish twin brother holding hands with a girl.

Looking at River, she coyly remarks, “When you texted me you had someone you wanted me to meet, I just assumed it was a guy.”

Then she throws her arms around me like we’re long lost friends. “Hi! I’m Bell, River’s sister.”

“Dahlia. Nice to meet you, Bell,” I say as she continues to clutch her arms around my back before finally allowing me room to breathe. She studies me for a few beats. “You look familiar.”

“I went to USC. River said you were a junior when I was a senior.”

Shrugging her shoulders she says, “Maybe that’s it.” Gently tugging on some of my hair, she says, “I think I’d remember you. You’re so pretty and the shade of your golden blonde hair is unforgettable.”

She looks at River and gives him a look that he obviously recognizes because he grins at her. Then twisting sideways, she winks at the bartender and points to me. Why? I have no idea. Then she diverts her attention back to us. I can tell she has all kinds of questions for her brother, but she holds back.

“So where did you two meet?” she asks me as the River’s name is being chanted from across the room. Looking over, I see a dark-haired, dark-eyed man catcalling River. He continues to cup his hands over his mouth, calling River’s name. River smiles at me and raises his chin in the air toward his friend as he tugs on my hand. “Come on,” then asks his sister, “You coming?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Bell replies, “I’ll meet you over there,” then winks at me and says, “We’ll talk later,” as she flutters off toward the bar.

Approaching the seating area, the very attractive dark-haired guy is sipping his beer with an arm draped around the girl standing next to him. As he tilts his bottle back, he eyes me up and down then finishes his drink before setting it on the table. He drops his arm from the girl and grabs two beers out of an ice bucket on the coffee table. Twisting the tops off the Heinekens, he sidesteps the knockout redhead and walks up to us just as we approach him.

He’s about my height with a very athletic build. I could clearly see the cut-line of his arm muscles as he twisted the caps, and his tight shirt shows signs of well-defined abdominal muscles. He obviously works out. His hair is short, but long enough that it is wispily styled to the side, his eyes are like rich chocolate, and his skin is almost almond in color, making him appear slightly tanned.

He hands one bottle to River and the other to me. “River, man where the f*ck you been? You’ve been MIA!” he says. Then with a big smile, displaying the whitest teeth I have ever seen, he adds, “And who is this beautiful thing you brought with you?”

As I look at this guy, who can no doubt woo any girl, I can tell he must be part Native American. Glancing at the arm that just handed me a drink, I notice he has a very detailed tribal tattoo circling his bicep with an intricate feather design draped down his arm. It is peeking out from under the short sleeve of his tight black t-shirt.

“Phoenix, this is my girl, Dahlia London,” River says, dropping my hand to place his arm around my shoulder before he continues with, “Dahlia, this jackass is Nix Stone.”

“Dahlia, like the flower?” he asks, raising his hand to shake mine. “Nice to meet you.” Raising one eyebrow in question, he asks, “What’s a sweet thing like you doing hanging out with this douchebag?”

River pipes in with, “Language dude. Really?” And he squeezes me a little tighter.

Nix must be short for Phoenix I figure as I take a sip of my beer just to break his gaze. I hate the taste of beer without ice, so while blinking at his brash forwardness and the taste of the beer, I decide to ignore his rude question. Instead I shake his hand in response. “Nice to meet you! You’re the guitarist?”

He nods his head yes and shakes my hand a little longer than necessary but stops as River eyes him.

Shoving River in the shoulder but looking at me, he says, “Sorry Dahlia. I’m not used to seeing this guy bring a girl to rehearsal. He never stays with one girl long enough to introduce us to her.” I glance over at River rather quickly, but he isn’t looking at me. My gaze is broken when someone calls Phoenix’s name.

“Nix, what crap are you stirring up now?” Bell chimes in, taking the beer out of my hand and handing me some red drink with a lime in it.

“Just ignore him! He’s always an ass,” she says.

“Bell, you’re lucky I love you,” Nix responds, winking at her.

Then looking at River, he says, “Meet you on stage, I’m going to warm up.” As he walks away he turns, “And Dahlia, it was really a pleasure meeting you.”

Rolling my eyes at his obvious intent to piss River off, I raise my glass and ask Bell, “What’s this?”

“A Cranberry Crown. Try it.”

As I give it a sip so as not to be rude, River bends slightly and whispers in my ear, “Watch out for her drinks.”