Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(5)



“Thanks,” I said, feeling terrible. I couldn’t leave that ugly lie sitting out there like that.

“Um, I didn’t really hear that about Kaidan.” They both looked at me with confusion, and I swallowed, forcing myself to continue. “He doesn’t have gonorrhea. I mean, not that I know of.”

“Why would you make that up?” The friend was more sober, and she was looking at me with deserved contempt. The drunken girl still looked confused. I contemplated playing it off like I’d been joking, but that would also be a lie, and who jokes about STDs anyway?

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I just... I’m sorry.” I backed up and slipped out of there as fast as I could. It was a good thing, too, because Lascivious’s last song was ending and all the girls were wobbling toward the bathroom now. It was time for the bands to switch. I wrung my hands and bit my lower lip, looking for Jay as the crowd surged around me. I wanted to go home.

“Anna!” Jay waved to me, and I had to chase him through the crowd toward a door where a gigantic man stood frowning, arms crossed over his chest in the classic bouncer pose.

I just lied! It was all I could think about. Terrible feelings slithered around in the pit of my belly.

Gregory held out a laminated card, which the bouncer glanced at before opening the door.

I grabbed Jay’s arm. “Wait, Jay, maybe I should just stay out here.”

He turned to me. “No way. Patti’ll kill me if I leave you. It’s all good. C’mon.” He pulled me through the door.

We made our way around crew members who were hurriedly hauling around stage equipment. Music and raucous voices spilled from a room at the end of the hall.

“Are we really doing this?” I asked. And was my voice really all high-pitched and shaky? I needed to scream.

“Chill, Anna. It’s fine. Be cool,” Jay said.

A wall of cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes hit us as we entered the warm room. I put my hands on my hips and tried to be inconspicuous as I checked for sweat marks on my tank top. When I saw small dampened spots had formed I snapped my arms back to my sides.

Be cool, Jay had said. Like that could ever happen.

It took only a few seconds of scanning the room to find him, standing in a back corner with three long-legged beauties who were obviously aware of the latest fashions. A ribbon of red aura wove around and between them. One of the girls pulled a cigarette from a pack. Like a magician, Kaidan whipped out a matchbook and flicked it open to light a match with one thumb. How did he do that?

Jay gave my hand a tug, but I pulled away.

“No, you guys go ahead. I’ll wait here.” I wanted to stay near the door. My stomach wasn’t right.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be right here. Good luck, or break a leg, or something.”

As Jay and Gregory turned and headed into the crowd, my traitorous eyes returned to the corner and found another pair of eyes staring darkly back.

I dropped my gaze for three full seconds, and then lifted my eyes again, hesitant. The drummer was still staring at me, oblivious to the three girls trying to win back his attention. He put up one finger at the girls and said something that looked like, “Excuse me.”

Oh, my goodness. Was he... ? Oh, no. Yes, he was walking this way.

My nerves shot into high alert. I looked around, but nobody else was near. When I looked back up, there he was, standing right in front of me. Good gracious, he was sexy—a word that had not existed in my personal vocabulary until that moment. This guy was sexy like it was his job or something.

He looked straight into my eyes, which threw me off guard, because nobody ever looked me in the eye like that. Maybe Patti and Jay, but they didn’t hold my stare like he was doing now. He didn’t look away, and I found that I couldn’t take my gaze off those blue eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked in a blunt, almost confrontational way.

I blinked. It was the strangest greeting I’d ever received.

“I’m... Anna?”

“Right. Anna. How very nice.” I tried to focus on his words and not his luxuriously accented voice, which made everything sound lovely. He leaned in closer. “But who are you?”

What did that mean? Did I need to have some sort of title or social standing to enter his presence?

“I just came with my friend Jay?” Oh, I hated when I got nervous and started talking in questions. I pointed in the general direction of the guys, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. I began rambling. “They just wrote some songs. Jay and Gregory. That they wanted you to hear. Your band, I mean. They’re really... good?”

His eyes roamed all around my body, stopping to evaluate my sad, meager chest. I crossed my arms. When his gaze landed on that stupid freckle above my lip, I was hit by the scent of oranges and limes and something earthy, like the forest floor. It was pleasant in a masculine way.

“Uh-huh.” He was closer to my face now, growling in that deep voice, but looking into my eyes again. “Very cute. And where is your angel?”

My what? Was that some kind of British slang for boyfriend? I didn’t know how to answer without continuing to sound pitiful. He lifted his dark eyebrows, waiting.

“If you mean Jay, he’s over there talking to some man in a suit. But he’s not my boyfriend or my angel or whatever.”

Wendy Higgins's Books