I could literally strangle him.Nothing?!What the fuck?
“Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “She’s afraid of him! Why the hell are you letting her stay there? You should bring her backnow.”
Nick glanced at me, his shoulders tense. “How am I supposed to do that? Force her? You think I have any power over her? She doesn’t listen to me, and she obviously doesn’t fucking trust me, so please, do tell me how am I supposed to bring her back! She’s not a little girl, and this isn’t a movie. I can’t tell her what do to!”
He banged his hands on the table, making Mel jump, then downed the rest of his drink, glaring at me.
“She has her issues, but it doesn’t mean she’s afraid ofhim.Whatever happened, he feels guilty, and she’s willing to forgive him. It’s not my place to dictate her life, Thomas.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to let go of Nadia and go back to thepost-Nadiamode where I tried my hardest to live a normal life minus the meaningless quickies. Three deep breaths, and I was still ready to board a plane to bring Nadia back home even if she would never be mine again.
Three more breaths, and I pushed her out of my head for the time being, focusing on the task at hand.
One step at a time, remember?
Ethan stood in the doorway, waiting for us to decide whether we were going to see the band play live. It was a rarity for us to ditch poker night, but their undeniable potential was too good to miss. Nick ordered a taxi, while I pretended that Nadia didn’t call and that I didn’t hear panic in her voice or see fear in her eyes. I pretended that I didn’t fucking care.
Thirty minutes of mental pep-talk later, we entered a small bar on the outskirts of London, and I was no longer shaking. The smell inside left a lot to be desired—stale beer mixed with sweat and dampness of the brick walls. There were no windows in sight, which must have made it damn near impossible to let fresh air in.
The stage was nothing more than two square metres of floor space, separated from the crowd with red, retractable line dividers. The band was setting up. The lead singer and the electric guitar player were twins: tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed.
No one says it out loud, but nowadays, no matter how amazing the music, in ninety-five percent of cases a musician won’t reach the top without the looks. Ed and Lewis were ugly exceptions.
“So far so good,” I told Nick, pointing to the crowd of women in the first lines, swooning at the band members.
“If they sound as good live as they do on the demo, I want them in the studio tomorrow to see what else they have to show.”
Ethan navigated around the crowd, then placed three beers and a glass of vodka on the rocks on the high table we gathered around.
“Sorry, they’re all out of whiskey,” he told the guys. “The bartender said they haven’t seen a crowd like this for a long time.”
Things kept getting better, but I was sceptical until the lead singer outperformed himself from the demo.
His voice alone, the bluesy, rocky mannerism, could peel the panties of thousands upon thousands of female fans. Male performers were always more celebrated. You don’t see guys fainting at Beyoncé’s concerts too often, but take Justin Bieber, and the number of first-aids on site triples.
“Charles is the vocalist. His twin is Chase. I don’t know the other two yet,” Ethan said. “What do you think?”
“I think you should quit your fucking job,” Nick beamed. “They’re good. The beat is a bit too boring for my liking, and they sure need a change of wardrobe, but we can fix that.”
Charles tapped on the mic to get everyone’s attention. “This next one is for all the single girls out here tonight.”
I smirked under my nose. He knew how to work the crowd. Girls swooned, phones ready to light the screens. Good-old lighters weresonineteen nineties.
Scorpio tapped my shoulder, pointing toward the bar.
“That blonde has been checking you out since we walked in. I think it’s right about time you got laid, mate. Go for it.”
I looked turned my head and caught the barmaid staring. She moved her eyes to a customer, her cheeks pink.
“The barmaid?” Ethan joined our conversation eyeing up the girl with a sceptical look. “She’s a bit…big, don’t you think? I’m not saying she’s fat, but if I were to take the five fattest girls I’ve slept with, she’d be three of them.”
Scorpio burst out laughing. “She looks like a coat hanger. She’s skin and bones, mate. Besides, she’s not for you. Go on, Thomas. It’s been two months. Time to move on.”
I looked back to the blonde. Scorpio was right, she was my perfect one-night stand. Maybe it really was what I needed… One meaningless night to forget about Nadia.
Worth a shot, right?
I made my way to the bar, still focused on the song. People leaned over the countertop waiting to be served, swaying to the rhythm of the monotonous love ballad. It was tacky, but I could see it top the charts, considering the recent demand for bedroom music performed by handsome, sensitive guys. A few girls sang along, which was one more good sign when it came toThe Mishaps.