The Rules of Dating My Best Friend's Sister(17)

“I guess I just felt guilty…for having fun here without him, yeah.”

“Well, I give you credit.” He took a sip of his drink. “It can’t be easy doing the long-distance thing.”

I changed the subject. “Anyway, you guys rocked it out there.”

“Thank you. I felt good about it.” He grinned proudly. “And it was cool to be able to play for you.”

For me. “Ryan used to love to watch you play, too.”

He nodded. “I feel his spirit with me a lot when I’m performing.”

The same brunette who had rushed over to him after the performance appeared. “Hey! There you are,” she said before turning to me. “Who’s this?”

“This is Lala, my best friend’s little sister.”

“Oh…” She stared down at Debbie Harry. “That’s cute.”

Holden laughed, somehow knowing that the girl’s use of cute annoyed me. “Lala, this is Carmen.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

She turned to Holden. “You wanna come back to my place tonight? It’s closer to here than yours.”

Yep. Just as I thought.

“I can’t, actually,” he answered. “I’m going back with Lala to make sure she gets home safely.”

Carmen frowned, obviously pissed that Debbie Harry and I were cockblocking her this evening.

She disappeared not long after that, and I celebrated by downing a long gulp of my drink.

Then things got a little hazy. Holden kept going back to the bar to get me vodka cranberries. At one point, the room started to spin.

The next thing I knew, I was back in the car with Holden, Monroe, and the guitar player, Kevin. Once again, my leg was pressed against Holden’s. Except this time, my drunken state amplified the arousal. My nipples were hard, the traitorous bitches. And my inebriated mind was going to places it had no right to, imagining what it might be like to be Holden’s groupie for one night—what that experience back at his apartment would be like for her. The muscles between my legs tightened as I anticipated getting home and relieving myself under the hot shower.

Holden seemed buzzed but not impaired like me. When he reached over and spoke into my ear, my internal alarm bells went off. “You might be getting tired, but I don’t think your hair is ready to stop partying.”

“That’s called frizz.”

“Don’t ever straighten it.”

“I don’t have the patience anyway.” I hiccupped.

For some reason, the guys decided to start ranking on Holden, making him the butt of their jokes for the latter half of the ride home. Holden explained that they loved throwing “drummer jokes” at him, and this was a regular tradition after a show.

“What do you call a drummer without a girlfriend?” Kevin asked.

“Homeless,” Monroe chimed in.

They laughed as Holden rolled his eyes.

“What do you call a drummer with brains?” Kevin paused and smiled over at me. “A guitar player.”

“I got another one!” Monroe yelled. “What do a drum solo and a sneeze have in common?”

“What?” Holden rolled his eyes again.

“You know it’s coming, but you can’t stop it, even if you want to!”

Kevin high-fived him. “Good one.”

I decided to give them some of their own medicine. “What do you call a singer and a guitar player who like to make dumb jokes about drummers?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Jealous because all the girls seem to want to fuck the drummer.” I hiccupped and looked over at Holden. “Must be doing something right.”

They fell silent.

I wouldn’t have said that if I was sober, but it gave me pleasure to shut Kevin and Monroe up, as did the smug smile on Holden’s face.





CHAPTER 5


Holden



Holden: How’s the party girl doing this morning?

It was almost noon, and I hadn’t heard a peep from next door. I was pretty certain Lala wasn’t a big drinker, so I suspected the four vodka crans she’d knocked back last night might be taking their toll on her today. It took about ten minutes, but my phone finally buzzed with a response.

Lala: In case I forget to mention it, I appreciate how clean the bathroom floor is in this apartment. And how cold…

Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

Holden: Rough morning?

Lala: Rough eight hours. As soon as I closed my eyes and got into bed, the room started spinning. So I came to the bathroom, just in case I got sick. I’ve been here on the floor ever since.

Oh man. Been there, done that. It sucked.

Holden: I’m heading out to get a smoothie. You want one?

Lala: If it comes with Motrin, sure.

I laughed.

Holden: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes with your cure. Hang tight.

Lala: Okay. But can you please let yourself in? I don’t think I can lift my head or walk to the door to open it.

Holden: Sure thing.

A little while later, I used my master key to bring Lala what I’d dubbed the love your liver smoothie. Her apartment was quiet, so I lightly knocked on the bathroom door.