Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty #3)(84)
It might be reckless, might be a fool’s errand, but that was okay. For once in her life she was tired of playing by someone else’s rules. She was making her own rules now, and nothing was going to keep her from seeing this through.
…
“So, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Sure,” Jared said, followed by a chorus of “You bets,” from Ryder, Quinn and Drew, just as he knew would happen. The four of them had just finished working on a new song and they were all a little sweaty and a little tired. And still they were up for whatever favor he was going to ask, despite the fact that he’d been a real ass these last couple of weeks. He had no idea what he’d ever done to deserve friends like these—including Drew, who they’d all decided was a pretty damn good guy—but he was done second-guessing the universe. Done feeling guilty about it. He was just going to enjoy, and try to be the kind of friend they deserved in return.
“What’s up, man?” Drew asked, settling down on the couch at the back of the studio and kicking his feet up onto the table.
“I promised these kids I’d go hear them play tonight. It’s one of their first gigs over at the Spotlight. I thought you might like to come with.”
“The Spotlight?” Ryder whooped. “Wow, there’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.”
“Right?” Quinn agreed with a laugh. “Remember how you almost got knifed during our second show there?”
“Pretty hard to forget,” Wyatt answered. “So you want to go?” It wasn’t that he needed them to come, it was just…he’d been feeling pretty f*cking awful since Poppy left, and the last thing he really needed to do tonight was go sit, alone, in a bar. He didn’t think he’d drink or score—he hadn’t so far—but he figured there was no reason to tempt fate if he didn’t have to.
“Sure,” Jared said, exchanging a long look with the others that Wyatt tried not to notice. “What time?”
“Whenever. They’re starting in about half an hour, but they’ll play two or three sets. Or at least that’s what their manager said when I called to check.”
“You called to check?” Ryder asked. “Who are these kids?”
He shrugged. “Just fans who chased me down the street one day. They’re good kids, still in high school, I think. Big fans. They invited me to their gig and I said I’d be there. So, I’m going.”
“That’s pretty awesome,” Drew said, pushing himself off of the couch. “I say let’s go, then. Does this Spotlight club have decent food? Because I’m starving.”
“Yeah, um, maybe we should grab something on the way,” Wyatt said.
“No maybe about that,” Jared said, pulling out his keys.
“Right?” Quinn added as he finished texting Elise about their plans. “Since I’m not up for food poisoning, we’re definitely eating before we go.”
An hour later they pulled into the parking lot of the Spotlight, bitching and moaning about the fact that Jared drove like an old woman.
Jared just flipped them off as he got out of the car, telling them, “You’re all more than welcome to drive next time. Of course, that would mean one of you would have to get a vehicle bigger than a roller skate, and somehow I don’t see that happening any time soon, so…”
“Yeah, but seriously, dude, there’s actually a minimum speed allowed for those roads we were driving on,” Drew said, pulling his cowboy hat low on his head as they walked toward the front door of the club.
“How would you know?” Jared demanded. “You’ve only lived here for like three days.”
“It’s been a very educational three days.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing at the bickering. Drew had fit in with the band so well it was like he’d been there all along. And their new sound, with him added in, was f*cking brilliant.
He didn’t know how Poppy had known, but she had. More power to her.
He tried to shove the thought away as soon as he had it—not because she didn’t deserve credit, but because just that smallest idea of her was messing with his head, making him crazy when he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to go there anymore.
This was why they told addicts not to get into a relationship right out of rehab—because if it went bad, if the woman you’d fallen head over heels in love with didn’t feel the same, it was ten times as hard to stay clean. Ten times as hard to fight the voices in your head, telling you that you were weak and worthless. Turned out it was pretty good advice. Too bad he hadn’t listened to it.
But that’s what his friends were here for. A little extra support to make sure he didn’t score, no matter how much he wanted to. Last night, he’d lain in bed thinking about Poppy and wanting a hit so badly he’d nearly crawled out of his skin. He’d made it through it though, and he was going to make it through this as well.
One day at a time and all that. Maybe if he strung enough of those days together he’d finally have the nerve to go after Poppy, to apologize for essentially calling her a whore. He’d been hurt by her revelation—blindsided by it—but that wasn’t an excuse for saying what he had to her. He’d apologized, but shit. How did you come back from saying something like that?