Losing Track (Living Heartwood #2)(2)

“First, I’m not wearing any underwear.” She smirks and exhales a hard puff, the smoke swirling above her head as she cocks her chin. “Second, Crank’s with that bitch again.” She runs her tongue over her top lip, pausing at the corner as she thinks. “I don’t want to go in alone.”

For the love of… “When are you going to get the f*ck over him?” I shake my head. “He’s so not worth it, Dar. Not at all. He rides a freakin’ scooter, for Christ’s sake.”

Her black-rimmed eyes glower at me. “It’s not a scooter.”

“Ninja. Same diff.” I shrug.

She shifts her weight. “Anyway, I’m not a hog snob….like you.” She ticks her head. “Come on. He’s Crank,” she whines, hopping on her toes.

“Yeah,” I say, snagging the cigarette from her and taking a drag. “And last week it was so and so. Next week it will be some other loser. We were supposed to be spending your birthday week partying—just us, remember?” She puckers her lips into a pout, and I sigh. Then, “Hey, what about Jesse?”

Her mouth twists and her nose scrunches. “He’s like my brother. And besides, he’s always had a thing for you.” She shrugs one shoulder.

“Whatever.” I glance through the bar window. It’s too dark to make anything out, but the thump of a kick drum beats in sync with my rising heartbeat, beckoning me inside. I look into Darla’s frosty blue eyes. “Listen, Jesse’s my big bro, too. Yeah we’ve had some times…but he’s not my type. You know I don’t date anyone from the MC. He is a good guy, though. He’d treat you so much better than the turd droppings you’re always falling to your knees for.”

Her mouth opens, but I press on before she retorts. “And, I’m over this shit, Dar. I came here to listen to the band, not watch you mope all night, and then hook up with another lamer. Just for once, can we be like old times?” Now that the blow has worked its way into my bloodstream, I’m feeling more loving and forgiving. Nostalgic. Wanting Dar and me to reminisce and bring back the two girls who first hit the road five years ago, seeking adventure.

At least, that’s the way we tell it—purposely omitting why we really bailed the hell out of Dodge. It makes a much better story than running away from Darla’s dad—the ever pervert who couldn’t keep his drunk ass away from my friend—when we finally turned seventeen.

Taking her cigarette back, Darla smiles. “Yeah, I’m down for that. If Crank wants that trash, let ‘em have her. I’m sure I can find someone better, anyway.”

I release a heavy sigh. It’s not exactly the point I’m making, but at least she’s trying. “All right. Bar, beer, then back wall, where the raised platform is.” I lower my chin, meeting her gaze straight on. “No detours. Not even if Crank—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, fluttering her hand, then she drops the butt to the cement and grinds it out with the toe of her boot. “Got it, boss. I’m all about the sisterly love tonight.”

She links her arm through mine as we turn toward the door.

“And I’m not on the market to make him jealous either, Dar.” I nudge her hip with mine, driving home the point that the one time we made out to entice her ex will not happen again. I’m sick of all the shit she puts the both of us through for these *s.

“You don’t love me anymore? What, I’m not hot enough?” She reaches for the door and her mouth turns down in classic Dar pouty lips.

“You’re the hottest chick I’ve ever made out with,” I tell her in all seriousness. Her ego is about as fragile as a snowflake. “But that shit is dumb to do for them. Don’t you get that?” I widen my eyes, hoping she notes the seriousness in my tone.

The music engulfs us as we enter the bar. It muffles her reply, and I move my head closer to hers. “What?” I shout.

“I said, I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t mind the show.” She pulls back and winks at me.

Why the hell is she on this kick with Jesse all of a sudden? I don’t bother with a comeback for that one. The coke is obviously making her more loving than me tonight.

“Besides,” she adds. “If I did date Jesse, that’d make me his ol’ lady, and then I’d have to jump your bones if he said so.” She sticks her tongue out.

She’s right, of course. It’s the reason why I won’t get romantically involved with any of the members of Lone Breed—I’m my own woman. But for Dar, who keeps getting mixed up with losers, being bound to one guy—who’d keep her safe and scare away the jerkoffs—wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I could adapt…if it meant my girl was taken care of.

As we head for the bar, I spot Jesse seated there. His rumpled leather vest jacket open to expose a white tank underneath. The white and black bottom rocker patch on the back. Dark hair mussed from running his hand through it. He’s all brightly lit with alcohol and I suspect a fresh shot of blow.

My insides tug painfully at my belly, the craving gripping me hard. But I shake it off, along with Darla’s arm, and take a seat next to him.

“Saving it just for me?” I say over the music, flagging down the bartender.

“Of course.” He gives me a wink.

I nod. “That’s what I thought.” I motion for Dar to sit on the edge of my stool, but her attention is aimed out over the crowd, scanning for Crank.