Know what? Never mind. Asking questions. What was I thinking? This is stupid. What would they know about him here, anyway?
And why am I so set on looking into him when he was such a douche last time we met?
“Hey, Gigi.” David is running after me. “Your backpack.”
Shit. “Thanks.” I take it from him, sling it over my shoulder. “Good night.”
“Wait. Sorry, okay? I’m just used to girls plastering themselves all over him every night.”
Oh God, another visual I didn’t need. “Right.”
“If there is any question I could answer for you…?”
I think about it, my hand already on the door. One question. What do I have to lose, right? “Does he sleep with all those girls asking after him?”
He blinks. Snorts. “No. Not all.”
I slap a hand over my mouth. Holy shit, Gigi. What is wrong with you?
David wanders back to the bar, and I step outside, my heart racing. That wasn’t the question I’d meant to ask, dammit. I was going to ask if he’d ever mentioned his mom, or his past.
Standing in the cold, I ask myself what exactly I’m doing. Getting jealous of other girls Jarett has slept with? Playing detective and poking my nose where it doesn’t belong?
Whatever it is, it’s stupid, and it’s getting abundantly clear that it’s time I stopped.
Chapter Eight
Jarett
Fucking frat parties.
Fucking students.
I’m in a funk, and I bet it shows. Last place I want to be is here, tonight. After working extra hours until the early morning, then playing watchdog for the gang until dawn every damn night, and then often during the day, too, I’m sleepwalking.
But Angel is meeting someone in this crowd of drunk students, which means I have no choice but to follow. Sebastian is of course tagging along. He thinks he’s the shit, the bee’s knees, the Pope of Chili Town. Like, no deal will go down without him.
I wonder if Angel even notices we’re here, and if he’d give a damn if he knew.
Somehow I doubt it.
“Angel is heading upstairs,” Sebastian whispers theatrically to me, and I roll my eyes so hard I see my goddamn brain. “I’ll go with him in case he needs anything.”
What, a blowjob?
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll be here.” I turn my steps toward a table loaded with booze before he has a chance to say anything else. “Waiting.”
My patience isn’t at its best tonight. I’d better put some distance between us and self-medicate before I punch him.
Seb has always been an asshole. But since things went to shit and I made his mom a promise to protect him, I’ve managed to keep my cool.
Mostly.
He’s my brother. And I keep my promises, even if they will probably get me killed. So what? I always thought I’d die sooner rather than later. The people around me keep dropping like flies. I’ve known death since I was little. You can’t escape it.
But you can forget about it for a while. So I grab a bottle, ignoring the protests of the students manning the table.
“Don’t sweat it,” I tell them. “Relax. I’m a bartender.”