Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(46)

“You’re all grown up!” He raises a suggestive eyebrow at Liam before dragging a stool out and sitting.

I sit too and Liam places his hand over mine, under the table, and squeezes. “Is Jem here?” asks Liam.

“You bet; this is his little project. I think he’s with the band trying to keep his hands off the lead singer.”

Liam snorts. “Of course. Are you staying with him still?”

“Yeah, chief babysitter.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Liam replies.

“He asked me to stay with him; he knows that’s what I think about the situation. At least he’s clean since he left rehab.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I worry about him being in this scene around others drinking and drugging, but he seems okay.”

“Is Dylan coming?” Liam asks.

“Nah. I think him and Sky are in Asia currently. Or Australia, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track, and Dylan’s pretty cagey about people knowing their plans.”

“What you mean is he doesn’t want Steve to know.”

“Come on, you know Steve’s backed off on the micromanaging while we have time out.”

“Hmm. For now.”

As they switch to chatting about Liam’s work with a band I haven’t heard of, and discussing the merits of fellow musicians, I switch off and attempt to convince myself this is really happening. Am I honestly sitting in a club with Liam, away from motherhood and mundanity? Liam’s hand remains protectively around mine. Yes, I’m in the middle of a dream I once had. Liam Oliver wants me.

Another group walks into the empty pub, attempting not to stare at us; but when one of the guys orders at the bar, the two girls he’s with fight against gawking at us. I switch my focus to the glass in front of me.

“We’ll have to go out the back soon,” says Bryn, “Too many people here now. Once the band starts we can come back through, but I don’t feel like being hassled right now.”

“Sure. Cerys?” Liam stands and picks up our drinks.

Under several sets of eyes, we follow Bryn behind the bar to the back of the pub.

Toward the back of the building, Ruby Riot hangs out in a room preparing to go on stage and I have the dubious pleasure of joining them. Two guys sit on the sofa comparing something on their phones and a third guy rests against the wall drinking beer. The guys on the sofa are around my age but that’s where the comparison stops. They have matching spikey black hair and piercings and I’d lay bets that they’re brothers; the similarity is so strong between them. Everybody I come across tonight has tattoos; these guys each have a sleeve extending toward their neck, a bright mash of colours and pictures.

The solidly built man on his own is older, closer in age to Liam. I like muscles on a guy but this is someone who spends a lot of time working out to achieve the bulk he does. Nobody could have that much natural muscle. His close-cropped hair and attitude gives him an odd demeanour, an air of something beyond tension around him that frightens me.

“Hey, guys,” says Bryn then frowns. “Where’re the rest of you?”

“Just what I was thinking,” mutters the man who’s against the wall. “I thought you were looking for them.” Something about the way he looks at me prickles my neck and I grip Liam’s hand. I felt out of place the moment I walked into the room and this isn’t helping.

“Nah, Jem’s with Ruby and Jax, I think they all went out for a smoke,” says one of the men on the sofa. “You brought a chick tonight, huh, Liam?”

“Cerys,” I say and pull a sour face at his description.

“Hey, Cerys. I’m Will and this is my baby brother, Nate. Bass player and drummer with the famous Ruby Riot!” He grins.

“Famous? Dream on,” says the third man.

“Don’t kill the dreams, Dan!” Nate says and the look that passes between them suggests an animosity beneath the surface. “This is Dan, our delectable lead singer, Ruby’s, groupie.”

“Ha f-ucking ha.” He looks at me. “She’s my other half.”

“And because you’re here all the time, that makes you our official groupie,” grins Will.

“Sure, dickhead, you’re funny…” He looks to Bryn. “Was she in the bar?”

“Nope.”

Nate checks his phone. “We’re on in fifteen, she always does this. I bet Jem’s talking her down again. “

Talking her down? The amount I’ve drunk since I arrived makes itself known. “I should um… go to the bathroom before the band starts,” I say to Liam.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“Fine,” I lie.

The bathrooms are located halfway between the room and the bar area and there’s no queue, which leaves me ten minutes. I’m not keen on going back into the room and standing awkwardly waiting for the gig to start. The bar isn’t an option, so I head toward the propped open fire door for some fresh air. I’m about to step out when I notice two figures huddled in the shadows talking in insistent voices. The door leads to a narrow alley that runs between the pub and the main street, and the couple are on the edge of the light filtering through from the building.

God, I hope this isn’t going to turn into a physical argument because the girl’s hand gestures get wilder. The man doesn’t retaliate instead standing with his arms crossed against his chest. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Do I go? Wait in case she needs help?