Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“That’s sweet of you to say.”
Outside the restaurant, Warren stepped to the curb. He raised his hand to hail a cab coming down the block. “You ready to go party now?”
“You mean Holden’s show?”
Warren nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing his band play.”
“You are?”
The cab pulled up, and Warren opened the back door. “I feel bad for insulting his career last night. Your brother’s friends are important to you, so they’re important to me.”
“I appreciate that, but…I’m sort of tired. It’s fine if we skip it.”
“We don’t have to go for very long. Let’s just stop in for a few songs.”
I sighed and ducked into the cab. “Okay…yeah, sure.”
The Villager was packed when we walked in. I felt slightly relieved that we were stuck at the back bar, and Holden probably wouldn’t even notice we’d come. Warren talked to the bartender while I looked around the club. Most of the women were dressed very differently than I was in my demure little black dress that came to my knee and conservative pumps. They had on cropped tops with abs showing, skimpy strapless dresses, and jeans that looked painted on. It made me feel uncool and super out of place.
Warren slipped some money across the bar and finished talking to the bartender. A minute later, a woman walked over and the bartender pointed to Warren and me.
“What’s going on?”
Warren beamed. “I got us a table up front.”
“What? How?”
“Gave the bartender a hundred dollars, and one of the two round tables with the little reserved signs suddenly became available. I told him we would only be about an hour, though.”
The last thing I wanted was to be front and center. I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m good here. We’re only going to stay a little while anyway.”
But it was too late. The woman motioned for us to follow, and Warren put his hand on my back, guiding me to walk.
Holden spotted us before we even sat down, his eyes tracking my every step as he drummed away.
Warren pulled out my chair, and we sat. He looked pleased with himself as he leaned forward and yelled over the music. “Now isn’t this better?”
No, it makes me want to throw up. Yet I had to muster a smile. “Yes, thank you.”
The next half hour was brutal. After Friday played seven songs in a row, each one going right into the next, but Holden and I couldn’t stop staring at each other. I’d force my eyes away after a few seconds, but somehow they kept finding their way back. And each and every time, I found Holden looking at me. I started to worry that my fiancé was going to notice. But when I glanced over, he seemed completely oblivious and smiled. I smiled back, and the brief interaction caused Warren to reach across the table and lace his fingers with mine. The next time I stole a peek at the drummer, Holden was no longer looking at me; he was staring at our joined hands—actually glaring was more like it. His playing also seemed to get louder and louder. We were sitting so close that I’d already been feeling the beat in my chest, but as time went on, my heart pounded so hard I started to sweat. When the band finally stopped playing, the lead singer said they were going to take a short set break, and I told Warren I needed to use the ladies’ room.
The hallway had a line of six individual bathrooms, and I was glad to get a few minutes alone in one. Once I caught my breath, I decided as soon as I got back to the table, I’d tell Warren we needed to leave. I couldn’t possibly handle another round of what had been going on out there. But when I opened the bathroom door, Holden was waiting right on the other side. He backed me up, locking the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” I said.
Holden looked crazed. He kept walking forward, making me step back, until I hit the sink. Then he put one hand on either side of me, blocking me in.
He leaned down so we were eye to eye. “Tell me, when you hold his hand, do you feel like you do right now?”
My heart raced, and I couldn’t speak.
“Answer me!” His eyes were so angry. “How do you feel right now, Lala? Does it feel the same when he touches your hand?”
I shook my head.
“How about when he was in your fucking bed last night? Did that feel like this?”
I shook my head again.
“That’s fucking sad.” Holden trailed one finger along my arm, and goose bumps broke out all over my skin. “Does he make your hair stand up like this? Give you goose bumps?”
I shook my head yet again.
Holden leaned in, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Can he make you come just by talking to you? Without ever laying a finger on you?”