“I’ve never been here before,” he said as he took in the area.
We were visiting The Back Porch for the first time.
It hadn’t been my idea to come here, mostly because this had been my first time hearing about it, when Linnett, apparently, had suggested it.
“It’s great,” Linnett chirped. “It’s got live music, great food, and the atmosphere is amazing.”
I inwardly groaned upon hearing that they had ‘live music.’
Not because I didn’t like music, but because my head didn’t.
I literally couldn’t tolerate it.
And when the hostess led me to an interior booth with everyone else following after me, I knew that I was in for it.
I took a seat as did the rest of us, and as the hostess handed us each our menus, I felt the first pounds of my future headache.
I looked up in time to see Ford staring at me with concern.
The minute our eyes connected, I knew he was about to interrupt.
“We can’t sit in here,” Ford said, standing up.
I touched his hand with mine.
“It’s okay,” I started to say, but he shook his head.
“No, it isn’t,” he said. “Ashe is going to get a roaring headache if we stay in here. We need a table on the porch.”
Linnett shot her hate-filled eyes to me.
I barely contained the urge to laugh.
One time when we were younger, nearly the same thing had happened. Only he and Linnett had come to a family dinner with us. My parents had been ecstatic to watch some particular band play, and I’d gone inside to sit by myself while I waited for the concert to be over.
Sadly, concerts gave me extreme headaches. And when I say extreme, I meant headaches that would quickly turn into migraines if I wasn’t careful.
All it took was exposure to the loud sounds for more than five minutes, and I was a goner.
And it’d already been three, and I could feel the pounding pulse at the back of my brain.
“Oh, man,” Linnett whined. “I picked it because of the band that was playing. I thought that you’d really like them.”
Ford glanced over at me and winced.
“Yeah, but you also damn well knew that Ashe couldn’t do loud places.”
“That’s a bummer,” Trace said as he stood. “Why is that?”
We moved to a table outside that would all but stop the sound of the music unless the door was opened.
Once we regained our seats, I had Trace on one side of me, Ford on the other, and I was facing Linnett.
Yay.
“So what happens when you listen to loud music?” Trace questioned as he opened his menu.
“Normally? I just get a really bad headache,” I answered. “The only problem is, it stays for days. And I wouldn’t say that it’s a migraine as much as just a headache. But it stays for so long that I can’t recover. By the end of the four days, or however long I keep it, I’m exhausted.”
Trace frowned.
“My sister used to get headaches,” Trace said.
“I’m going to go run to the bathroom,” Linnett said, eyes coming to me as if I would want to go with her.
Thanks, but hell no.
“Oh really?” I asked conversationally, returning my gaze to Trace.
Ford leaned back in his chair and watched the two of us talk, his eyes narrowing more and more the longer the conversation continued.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I swear, she lived her life with one. That’s all I ever heard about, was her head hurting.”
“Headaches suck.” I turned to survey Ford.
“Linnett’s been gone a long time,” I admitted.
He looked at me, blowing out a breath.
“Go check on her,” he suggested.
I wanted to do that about as much as I wanted to have an abscess between my toes.
“Ummm,” I began to say no, but then he narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something I wasn’t going to like.
The moment that he did, I wrinkled my nose and got up.
“When the waitress comes, you know what I want,” I told Ford.
Ford nodded once.
“Okay, well thanks.” I walked around the corner of the table, staying close to Ford.
When I passed him, I dragged my fingers along his nape, causing his neck to tense and his shoulders to raise.
Snickering because that was his ticklish spot, I started in the direction of the bathroom only to come to a stop when I nearly ran into Linnett.
“Oh, there you are.” I smiled. “Ford was wondering what happened to you.”
She narrowed her eyes, gaze flicking from me to Ford and back.
“Keep your hands off of him,” she ordered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Why?”
“Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because he’s not here on a date with you. He’s here on a date with me.”
I snorted and moved around her, heading to the bathroom.
It took me a while longer than I meant it to because I found a fish tank right outside the bar that was next to the bathrooms.