“You need a beer,” I say while motioning toward the waitress.
I’ll just nurse my beer for the night. No way am I getting drunk now.
“Sorry,” he finally says in a soft exhale, and a chill creeps into my skin when I lose the warmth of his breath and the feel of his touch.
He turns his attention to Base just as he shows off during a solo, and I watch as every girl in the bar swoons for the young Masters. Corbin takes his beer when the waitress comes, and she bats her lashes, acting all girly in front of him as she tries to gain his attention.
Like usual, he pretends not to notice as he looks around her to the stage. He doesn’t have to feign disinterest for my benefit.
“Corbin!” some guys yell, drawing his attention away.
Several frat-looking boys are calling for him, and he waves before turning to me.
“I’ll be back,” he says in his best Terminator voice, and I laugh while rolling my eyes.
Just like that, the tension that was mounting is broken, and he winks as he leaves me behind to go talk. When I turn away and see Wanda, she’s grinning at me in a way I really don’t like. No doubt she has been watching us this entire time.
“I need to hit the head,” Dad announces, as if we need to know that bit of information.
As he stands, everyone takes a step away. He’s a tall, muscular beast, and he looks much scarier than he actually is. Everyone moves out of his way as he heads toward the men’s room, and I smile while shaking my head.
“They’d never believe he’s a big ol’ teddy bear, would they?” Wanda asks.
“He’s only a teddy bear if he likes you,” I point out.
Her eyes flit toward Corbin before darting back to mine, and I inwardly curse her, silently imploring her not to start again.
“I always thought you two would end up married,” my stepmother says as Corbin talks to his friends, fortunately staying out of earshot.
“I’ve heard that a time or two,” I mumble, and she laughs while pulling something out of her purse.
“Never know until you give it a shot.”
“I did. Three times.”
“You were kids then,” she scoffs. “You’re adults now.”
“Three times,” I repeat, arching an eyebrow. “If you don’t try something once, you’ll always wonder ‘what if.’ Then there’s that everyone deserves a second chance rule. And of course the third time’s a charm thing. But four times? There’s a reason there’s not a saying for it.”
I take another long drag off my beer while she laughs lightly.
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” she says, winking.
“Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Let’s not get me put in a straightjacket, okay?”
She sighs, but I can tell she’s not giving up.
“He ignores all other women when you’re around,” she muses, nodding toward Corbin as he skillfully disentangles himself from some girl’s grip.
I honestly don’t know why he ignores girls when I’m around, but I’m glad he does. The thing with Bella the other week had me tripping over my own feet, because he never touches a girl in front of me. It… well, it pissed me off. Until Rain told me who she was.
Then I realized the jerk was trying to make me jealous.
Our games…
Wanda doesn’t take my silence on the issue as a hint to drop it. Instead, she continues. “And he always came to see you after you moved off. I swear that boy smiles every time you walk into a room.”
Groaning, I start to remind her that we’re best friends, but the words get lost before I can. I’m distracted by the fact she’s carefully unscrewing two blue capsules and pouring the powder onto a napkin… Pills? What the…
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She takes the napkin and twists it into a funnel, pouring the powder into Dad’s beer bottle, and then she swirls the bottle as she answers me.
“Your dad needs a little help these days with certain things—if you know what I mean. But he’s too prideful to pop a pill.”
What does that mean? Oh. Ewww. I think I just threw up in my mouth.
She laughs when she sees the disgusted expression on my face. I really wish my parents knew what topics were off limits.
“You’re still young. Enjoy it while it lasts,” she says through her chuckles.
So sick. I’m so, so sick.
“You’re not supposed to take that with alcohol, are you?” I hiss, hoping no one around us thinks she’s using illegal drugs over here.
“Hasn’t hurt him yet,” she boasts.
She puts the beer back down, pushing it away from her as she puts her purse on the table and starts digging through it again. I really don’t want to know what else she keeps in that damn thing.