Текст книги "Don't Let Go"

Автор книги: Michelle Lynn

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 3

In the last two days, I have listened to The Invisibles at least thirty times. It plays when I walk to class, when I study at the library, and when I fall asleep. Brady Carsen’s voice has an effect on me that I have never felt before. Even the faster songs bring a calming sensation over me.

Even though I know nothing about him, he consumes my every thought. I find myself doing a double take with every guy that sports a small Mohawk, checking if it’s him. I don’t even know if he is a student; he could very well be trying to make it to stardom as a musician.

I curse myself when my stomach fills with butterflies just imagining his face when he winked at me on stage that night. As much as I tell myself he’s trouble with a capital T, I can’t stop the thoughts. I know I should change my music, take The Invisibles off my iPod, but every time my finger hovers over that delete button it chooses cancel instead.

Since today is Thursday, I have a three hour gap between classes. Jessa had company when I woke up this morning, so I decide to head to the library instead of the dorm. I need the quiet study time anyway.

I walk through the doors of the library and make my way directly to the elevators. I ride the elevator by myself up to the sixth floor. I select my spot at a table for four in my usual area, close to the bathroom and elevator. Then I notice a guy sitting a few seats over by himself with his laptop out, typing so hard it sounds like the keys are going to pop off the keyboard. I debate leaving for a second, but decide I’m going to fight for my spot. I found it the first week of classes and I’m not giving it up easily. I put my ear buds in and turn my music up loud with the hope that it will annoy the angry typist.

Five minutes later my plan worked, except he now stands on the other side of the table from me. I pretend to concentrate on my book in front of me, but I see his pressed khaki slacks out of the corner of my eye. I don’t look up, but he gives me no choice when he taps his pen on the page I’m reading.

My eyes follow the blue pen that is held by long lean fingers, up to the tanned forearms, followed by the strong shoulders until I meet a pair of blue eyes staring down at me. A smile appears from his lips showing his perfect white teeth. When I realize he is talking to me, I pull the white cord from my ear bud out.

“I’m sorry, what?” My voice displays a hint of annoyance to it.

“Is that The Invisibles?” He points to my ear bud resting on my book.

“Yeah.” I look down and back up to him. I notice his smile has faltered. “Do you like them?” I ask.

“They’re okay,” he says, shrugging his shoulders up and down. His reaction confuses me. He must like the band, how else could he pick them out from hearing it from my ear bud?

“Do you mind turning it down?” he asks.

“I will turn it down if you are a little nicer to your keyboard,” I jokingly respond.

“Deal,” he laughs, putting his hand out for me to shake. “Grant Bishop.”

“Sadie Miller.” I shake his hand back.

“So Sadie, what year are you?” He pulls a chair out from the table.

“Senior. I don’t want to be rude but I have to finish reading this.” I point to my book, praying he doesn’t sit down.

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” he asks and a loud sigh escapes my lips when he sits down.

“Do you know the entire fifteen thousand student body?” I sarcastically ask.

“No, but since roughly sixty percent are female, I only really need to know nine thousand. Regardless, I would never forget a face like yours.” His flirtatious lip turns up to the right.

“Nice line,” I chuckle.

“Thanks,” he laughs. I’m happy to see he knows how cliché his line is. “Seriously, I have been coming up to the sixth floor since my freshman year and I have never seen you,” he states.

“I just transferred from Drayton University,” I reveal. I doubt he knows anyone from there.

“That would explain it,” he says, staring at me for a few seconds before standing up. “Welcome to the sixth floor. You won’t be bothered since it’s the Entomology area; there aren’t many people that come up here unless they are biology majors,” he advises me.

“Thanks,” I respond and put my ear bud back in, turning down the music.

My stomach growls an hour later and I realize I haven’t eaten since the banana this morning. I stand to pack up my books, deciding I should grab a bite to eat before heading to Clinical Psychology. Slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder, I see Grant is still typing, or in his case finger pecking on his computer. Right as I’m about to press the elevator button to go down, Grant puts his finger up in the air to me. “Hold on, Sadie. I’ll ride with you.” He quickly shoves his computer in his backpack and jogs over to me. I press the down button and we wait in silence together.

Once we enter the small confines, Grant turns my way. “Are you off to class?” he asks.

“Um…yeah.” My voice hesitates, sounding unsure. Damn, I can tell he knows I’m lying.

“For some reason I don’t believe you,” he says, cocking his eyebrow.

“Well, I’m going to grab something to eat and then I have to head to Wright Hall,” I admit.

“Psychology?” he questions.

I nod in affirmation.

“I usually don’t do this, but you want to go grab a coffee or something?” he asks and suddenly the elevator is traveling way too slow.

I bite my lower lip, stalling in hesitation. Grant’s eyes stay firmly on me, anticipating my answer. Last year I would have said forget the coffee, where’s your dorm? But I’m not that Sadie any longer. A wave of relief envelops me when the elevator beeps and the doors peel open. Unfortunately, my relief only lasts a second, when a set of familiar caramel eyes meet mine.

Brady Carsen looks delectable. He’s wearing a black hoodie paired with charcoal jeans and a set of black Chuck Taylors. His hair is pushed to the side today, making him appear less like a rocker than Saturday. But it’s his smile that absorbs me first. A warm safe feeling blankets me as we stare at one another.

“Sadie Miller,” Brady states.

“Brady Carsen,” I mimic his tone.

He smiles widely at me, but it dissipates when he looks to my left.

“Grant,” he nods over to him. I look back and forth between them, surprised they know each other. Their appearances would suggest they hang out in different circles.

“Brady,” Grant nods back.

Brady quickly disregards Grant, focusing his attention solely on me. “So, did you get my note?” The dimple in his right cheek indents further when his lips turn up.

“I did,” I say, returning his smile.

“What did you think?” He nervously rocks back on his heels. “I mean it wasn’t the live version like I would have preferred.” He raises his right eyebrow to me, informing me I should have never left Saturday night.

“It’s alright,” I jokingly shrug my left shoulder.

“Just alright,” he says softly. His lips turn down in a disappointed frown.

“Hey.” I playfully hit his shoulder with my hand. “I’m just kidding. Just ask Grant who I was listening to a few minutes ago when I was studying.” I point toward Grant, who seems completely disinterested in our conversation.

Brady’s eyes perk up at me. “Really?” He honestly sounds surprised that I like his band.

“Yes really. Tell him, Grant.” I motion with my hand to Grant, who is standing with his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“Yeah…she was,” Grant mumbles and his attitude makes Brady smile even bigger. “Listen, I have to go. See you around, Sadie.” Grant starts to walk away before I can respond.

“Bye, Grant,” I call out but he’s too far to hear me.

Brady’s eyes follow mine to Grant’s back. “Do you have time to get something to eat?”

“Sorry, I can’t.” I stare at the ground, not wanting to look into his eyes.

“Can’t or won’t?” He dips his head down, trying to see my face.

“Won’t,” I answer softly right before my stomach grumbles. My face instantly reddens.

“I was on my way to get something to eat. Walk with me to the Student Center.” He motions with his head. “We can sit at different tables if you want,” he teases.

“I thought you were waiting for the elevator?”

“Plans change. I heard your stomach and now mine’s reacting. Come on.” He shrugs his shoulder forward to follow.

“Don’t get any ideas Carsen, my stomach made this decision.” I walk in line next to him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sadie Miller.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders before I squirm out of it. “Sorry, I had to take a chance.” He laughs and I try to conceal my grin from him.

Brady doesn’t touch me for the short walk across the campus to the Student Center. When we enter through the doors, tables are filled with students reading and talking.

“What are you in the mood for?” Brady asks me as his eyes roam across the different fast food places.

“I don’t know.” The last thing I want to do is eat in front of him, but I will never make it through Clinical Psych without something in my stomach. “I think I’m going to get a bagel sandwich.” I point to the bagel place.

“Sounds good.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, leading me that way. His hand radiates a wave of heat throughout my body so I start walking a few steps faster.

“You don’t have to get anything from there,” I tell him, assuming he wouldn’t enjoy it.

“What are you trying to say? A guy can’t like a bagel sandwich? Do you think I should stuff my face with fries and burgers?” His face shows no trace of humor.

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…” I try to backpedal.

“I’m kidding, Sadie. To be honest, I have never tried this place but you have piqued my interest.” We stand away from the shop to look up at the menu. “So, what do you usually get?” he asks.

“The veggie de lite.”

“Are you a vegetarian?” he inquires, sounding like it could be the worst thing in the world.

“Is that a deal breaker for you?” I ask.

“Deal breaker?” he scrunches his eyebrows, confused.

“You know, something you find out about someone that makes you not want to date them,” I answer.

“What’s yours?” he asks.

“I asked first. If I was a vegetarian, would that be a deal breaker?”

“I’m not sure anything I find out about you would be a deal breaker, but to be honest, I don’t understand vegetarians.”

“Hmm.” I turn around to give my order to the cute red head behind the counter who can’t keep her eyes off Brady.

“You never answered. Do you eat meat?” He comes up behind me.

“No, I’m not a vegetarian. I just like the sandwich,” I honestly reply. “I’ll have a veggie de lite with low fat cream cheese,” I say to the girl. Usually I get the garlic and herb spread, but I’m not about to talk to Brady with garlic breath.

“What can I get you?” The red head looks Brady up and down while her co-worker starts to make my sandwich.

“Same, but garlic and herb cream cheese.” He smiles over to me and I’m sure awe fills my face. I’m half tempted to change my order. “I hate that low fat shit.”

“They have meat, you know,” I tell him.

“I know. I want to experience why you like it so much.” He scoots next to me and my heart races when his hand brushes against mine. I quickly make my way down the line away from him.

When we get to the cash register, Brady pulls out a twenty before I can even get in my messenger bag, adding chips and drinks to our meals.

“Don’t pay for me!”

“Why not?” Brady looks around, seeing a few students peering our way after my outburst.

“This is not a date,” I confirm.

“Hey, just because I decide to buy you lunch or dinner or whatever this meal is, doesn’t mean it’s a date.” He softens his voice, getting closer to me.

“It’s just…things get implied with dates.” I’m desperate to compose myself. I don’t want to owe him anything.

“Relax, Sadie. I’ll make you a deal.” He grabs our tray and leads us to a table.

“What?” I take a seat, happy he picked a table in the back.

“You can buy me a meal tomorrow.” He smirks up at me.

“Nice, Carsen.”

“A meal for a meal, then we’re even.” He takes both straws and pounds them on the table until the wrappers fall down. He puts one in mine and the second in his own drink.

“When are your classes tomorrow?” I ask.

“Well…I live off campus and I don’t have classes on Fridays, so it will have to be later.” He takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Later, when?” I ask before I take a bit of mine.

“This is really good, you don’t even miss the meat,” he says, lifting his sandwich. “After my show,” he answers my question.

“I told you the sandwich was good. After the show, what?” I take a sip of my soda.

“I have a show tomorrow night. We will get something after I’m done,” he casually says while he continues to eat his sandwich.

“Sorry, but I’m not going to that bar, house or whatever it is from last week.” I shake my head back and forth.

He laughs. “Good, because we are playing at Aces. I’ll pick you up.”

“Um…no. Let me just give you the money.” I dig through my bag and get the ten dollars out, placing it on the table.

“That’s not the deal. A meal for a meal. Just so you know, after a show I’m so hungry you might get the raw end of this deal,” he jokes.

“I think I already got the raw end. I can’t go to your show tomorrow or out to eat,” I say, putting my sandwich down, suddenly not able to finish it.

“What do I have to do?” he asks me before he pops a chip in his mouth.

“Nothing. I don’t date.”

“Okay, it won’t be a date. A friend coming to another friend’s show and then grabbing something to eat. I will even invite my band if it makes you feel better.” His eyes are begging me and I have to admit I want to go after listening to him sing the last few days.

“Fine,” I sigh. “But I’m bringing my roommate, Jessa, with me,”

“Great, the more people the better. I’ll pick you both up.” He picks his sandwich back up, happier than before.

Chapter 4

Brady texted me this afternoon, saying he would pick us up at seven. Jessa was going to the show anyway so she agreed to come with me and Brady. I don’t think she understands why I don’t want to go with him by myself and I’m not about to tell her how much he scares me. I wouldn’t have picked him out of a lineup two years ago. Sure he is attractive, but not my usual well-groomed type. My dad would have a coronary if I brought him home. With all of that said though, I can’t remember feeling so relaxed with someone. He looks at me differently, like I matter. As though what I have to say is important. My guard falls every time he is around and that is the last thing I need right now. I have to keep remembering the promise I made to myself. I will go to his show and pay for his meal. Then that will be the end of Brady Carsen in my life.

At seven on the dot my cell beeps; it’s Brady telling me he’s outside. I take one more look in the mirror. I straightened my hair, so it falls a couple inches past my shoulders and my eyes are smoky with dark eyeliner and mascara. Since I recently swore off red lipstick, I opted for a nice soft shade of pink lip gloss. I smooth out my blue blouse over my dark skinny jeans. Sometimes I still don’t recognize myself in the mirror. Closing my eyes, I tell myself it will be okay. Relax and have fun, Brady has no expectations.

“You look great. Let’s go.” Jessa smacks my ass, walking to the door.

“Thanks, so do you.” I grab my phone and lip gloss, shoving them in a small cross body purse. I don’t know how Jessa goes without a purse every time.

She is giddy with excitement as I follow her down the hall. Her short skirt with checkered tights and Doc Martens makes her look so much sexier than me. A twinge of jealousy sweeps over me, that Brady might prefer Jessa over me. Who wouldn’t?

Brady is leaning against a midnight blue Camaro with two white racing stripes down the middle when we walk outside. He smiles up at me, pushing his body off the car to open the passenger door for us.

“Hey,” I say, my eyes barely looking at him.

“Hey,” he returns, motioning with his hand for us to get in.

“Brady, you remember Jessa.” I signal my hand out to her.

“Yeah, hey Jessa.” Brady shakes her hand.

“Hi, Brady,” Jessa responds and I see her lips turn up in appreciation, eyeing him up and down before she gets in the back of his car.

Right before I bend down to get in the car, Brady reaches around my waist and pulls me in for hug. “You look incredible,” he whispers in my ear and my face immediately starts to blush.

“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” I quickly sit in my seat before he notices how red I’ve become.

“God Sadie, what did he say?” Jessa eagerly asks from the backseat while I watch Brady make his way around the car to the driver’s side.

“Shh…I’ll tell you later.” I wave my hand at her.

“You better.” She relaxes back into her seat and secures her seatbelt.

Brady eases into his charcoal-colored fabric seat. He’s wearing another band t-shirt that looks as old as the band displayed. When he starts the ignition, I notice a couple of black leather bands around his right wrist.

“We Built this City” by Starship blares and Brady hurriedly turns it down before pressing a button on the radio. “Sorry, must have come on after the song I was listening to before,” he quickly comes up with an excuse.

I remain silent. I don’t mention that I saw him press the button, switching it from CD to radio. I most definitely don’t mention my appreciation of eighties music as well.

“It sounds like your music, Sadie,” Jessa chimes in from the back seat. I can’t turn around to give her a dirty look so I stay quiet. Brady looks my way and grins, waiting for me to say something.

“I’m pleading the Fifth.” I slightly smile and stare ahead, trying to ignore him staring at me.

“Me too.” He smiles and turns back toward the road, putting the car in drive.

Aces is an actual bar, not like the place I saw The Invisibles play last week. The stage is situated to the right and booths line the wall along the windows. Tables fill the floor with a small bar in the corner on the left.

Brady grabs my hand and leads me to a circular booth off to the right of the stage, motioning for me to get in. The bar seems empty except for a few middle-aged men sitting in the stools around the bar and a few couples occupying the tables.

“We have to get everything set up. Do you want something to drink?” Brady asks, staying on the outside of the booth while Jessa and I scoot in.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Alright. It won’t be long,” he says hesitantly, standing by the table.

“Jeez. Just go. I’ll take care of her,” Jessa impatiently tells him.

Brady grins and turns around to head down the hallway.

“Be nice, Jessa. He’s just being polite,” I tell her.

“That was nice. I could have told him to go get his fucking equipment and give you some damn breathing room,” she responds, straight-faced.

“God, Jessa,” I sigh.

“Well, he can’t stop staring at you. It’s making me sick. Just look now.” She motions her head to Brady, who is walking back down the hall holding a large, black square box. His eyes are set on me the whole time. When our eyes meet, he winks.

“Whatever.” I ignore her comment. I’m in his direct line of vision.

Three other guys follow Brady up on stage. The first has a guitar swung over his shoulder, carrying a piece of the drum kit. He has spiky black hair with an eyebrow ring and a huge tattoo that covers his elbow. After he places the drum down, he glances our way and his stunning blue eyes set me back. One side of his mouth turns up in interest, staring between Jessa and me.

The next guy has another guitar instrument across his back and symbols fill his arms. He is shorter than Brady and has dreamy blue eyes, but his body is completely rock hard. His shirt is so tight you can almost make out every curve and crevice in his chest and shoulders. Buzzed brown hair covers his head and I don’t see any piercings or tattoos on him, but black boots cover the bottom of his black jeans.

The last band member lingers a few steps behind holding two drums, a pair of drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. He is wearing a black tank top, but you would think it was a full shirt with all the tattoos covering his chest and arms. His hair is tucked behind a baseball cap that rests backward on his head. His appearance intimidates me, showing me again how out of place I am in Brady’s world.

“Holy shit. Check out his band. I would take any one of them.” Jessa gawks up at the stage with wide eyes, like it’s a buffet.

“Haven’t you seen them before?” I inquire.

“Just last week and I was a little occupied,” she says with a smile.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Rebel,” I utter in disgust, reminded of her tongue down his throat.

“I’m getting all hot just thinking about him,” she says, waving her hand rapidly across her face.

“I sure as shit hope you are talking about me.” The dark, spiky-haired guy sits down next to Jessa, his eyes roaming across her body.

“Um…no.” She turns her whole body my way, putting her back toward him.

“Give me five minutes and you will be,” he responds to her back. Jessa remains quiet which surprises me. In the month I have known her, she has never once held her tongue. She transferred here as well which makes me wonder if there’s something in her past she’s running from, but I never ask her and she never asks me. It works for us.

Jessa hits my hip with her hand, pushing me to get out of the booth. For some reason she wants to get away from him and I don’t know why. “Come on Sadie, let’s go get a drink.”

Brady takes a seat next to me, trapping us in the booth. “Don’t worry, Roni will come over,” he says to Jessa. Her face is red and I swear I can hear her heart beating.

“So, this is Rob,” Brady says, pointing to the spiky, black-haired guy, “Trey,” pointing to the drummer, “And the muscle man is Hulk. Guys, this is Sadie and Jessa.” I feel their eyes on me. They are judging and evaluating me. From the expressions on their faces, I assume Brady has already spoken about me, which terrifies and thrills me at the same time.

“Hulk?” Jessa questions.

“Actually it’s Dex. These dipshits think it’s funny to call me Hulk. They’re just jealous because I could kick all their asses.” He smirks up at us.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I tell them.

“You too,” Trey replies back sincerely, and Dex nods his head in agreement.

Rob’s eyes travel from my chest back up to my face and I notice the disappointment. He shrugs his shoulders but nods toward me, informing me he heard me. He already knows I shouldn’t be with Brady. As his friend, he senses my baggage and doesn’t approve.

In the meantime, Jessa is sitting hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder next to me, making me move closer to Brady, who only smiles and rests his arm behind me. Shivers roll off my back as his thumb accidentally touches my neck.

A waitress, most likely in her late thirties, comes by. Her hair is piled high in a ponytail and she’s dressed in a pair of jeans and an Aces t-shirt with a name tag that reads Veronica. She pulls out her pad of paper and pen looking down at us.

“What will it be tonight, boys?” Then she notices me and Jessa. Rob starts to give his order but she interrupts him. “Whoa. You have ladies with you tonight. Have some manners, they go first,” she exclaims, staring over at me and I don’t know what I should order. I feel Brady looking at me and Rob seems disgusted for having to wait.

“Vodka tonic with a lime, please.” My voice is so soft, I’m surprised she can hear me. Rob rolls his eyes, waiting for his turn.

Jessa surprises me by ordering the same instead of her usual beer. All the boys order a round of beers except for Brady, who orders his usual and Trey asks for a shot of tequila with his beer.

“Thanks, Roni,” Brady says before she leaves to fill our order.

Roni comes back with our drinks and she places a glass of ice and a bottle of water in front of Brady. I look up at him, shocked.

“I don’t drink before shows.” He shrugs.

“Don’t let the preacher boy fool you, he never drinks,” Rob shouts over and Brady’s eyes give him a warning to shut up.

“Are you a recovering alcoholic?” Jessa leans forward across my shoulder, directing her question to Brady.

“I drink, just not very often and never before I have a show,” he answers her, pouring his water into the cup, not looking at any of us.

“I think that’s awesome,” I softly tell him so the rest of the table can’t hear. He turns his head toward me and our lips become so close they could touch if either of us moves an inch.

“Thank you.” The corner of his mouth turns up and my eyes fixate on how pink and wet his lips are from drinking the water. There’s a drop of water resting in the center of his pouty bottom lip and I have an immense urge to lick it. His hand cups my shoulder holding me in place, ready to pull me closer as I lick my lips in anticipation.

“Cut that smoochy shit out. It’s time to go up.” Rob throws the napkin between our faces, bringing me back to reality.

I blink and Brady’s soft brown eyes peer back at me. Our moment is over and disappointment fills me. What was I thinking? I told myself that this was not going to happen, but oh how I wonder how he tastes.

“Enjoy the show,” Brady says, looking from Jessa to me. “Please stay this time,” he whispers in my ear before he scoots out of the booth, jumping on the stage.

“Holy crap, Sadie. What was that?” Jessa asks, right after he leaves.

“What? Nothing.” I shake my head, still trying to figure it out myself.

“It was like you two were in your own world. Like the rest of us weren’t here,” she says, finishing her drink before flagging the waitress down.

I ignore her comment. I don’t know what to think about that. Brady has this pull over me, making it incredibly hard to keep my promise to myself. Just stick to the plan, I tell myself. Show, dinner and no more Brady after tonight.

Roni brings Jessa her drink and then the lights go down for The Invisibles to start playing. Aces has filled up in the time we have been sitting down. There is a line outside the window, waiting to pay their cover charge to see the show. I relax in the booth and the vinyl sticks to my arms. Thankfully, Jessa has moved over from me now that Rob is up on stage.

“Are you ready out there?” Brady’s voice fills the bar and Trey starts hitting the drums. Everyone cheers and rushes up toward the stage.

Surprisingly, my body starts moving to the beat. Every song he put on my iPod is embedded into my mind. It’s adorable the way he glances from the corner of his eye to make sure we’re still here. When the edges of his lips turn up at me, I melt into the sticky vinyl. The crowd around the stage jumps up and down while their heads bob back and forth to the beat of the music. Brady’s eyes divert back to them, showing them he’s there for their enjoyment and wants them to have a good time. He looks down to an eager girl right up front and smiles. She raises her hand and he reaches down in return, grasping a few of her fingers. A sudden pang of jealousy consumes me.

I can only see her black, short hair from the back. She has a smaller, more petite frame than me. Then the crowd engulfs her in around them and I can’t locate her anymore. But there was something in her body movements that makes me believe that she and Brady either have or had something in the past.

An hour later The Invisibles finish their set. Brady’s soaked grey t-shirt clings to his body, revealing all the creases around his muscles. He holds up his finger to me, telling me to give him a minute. I couldn’t keep count how many times he looked over during the show to see if I had deserted him like last time. The smile that absorbs his face when he knew I was still there was enough to make me want to jump on stage into his arms. He brings feelings out of me I didn’t think I possessed, or could exist inside of me.

Brady leaves the stage and the dark-haired girl follows him down the hallway and I wonder what is going on, but quickly remind myself it is none of my business. I will be out of his life after tonight anyway.

“Who’s the girl?” Jessa asks next to me.

“I don’t know,” I respond, stirring the small straw in my drink. I watch the nearly dissolved ice cubes spin around.

“Oh my god. You try to act all cool like he doesn’t make you all wet but look at you now.” She hits her shoulder to mine.

“What are you talking about?” I ask her, still staring at the nearly nonexistent ice cubes twirling around in my cup. I feel like them, nonexistent to the world. I no longer matter to anyone, or have any one important person in my life.

“Are you ready?” Brady waits on the outside of the booth with his hand out. He has changed his shirt to a long-sleeved blue Henley. “Or do you want to stay for the next band?” I glance up at him and all those thoughts that just filled my brain vanish when his perfectly straight white teeth gleam down at me. For some reason he makes me feel alive again.

“Who was that girl?” Jessa asks before I can answer him.

“Who?” Brady’s eye scrunch. He honestly appears to not know who she is talking about.

“The one that’s eye fucking you over there.” Jessa points to the dark-haired girl. Now that I see her face, she looks a few years younger than us. Her black bob hair cut has a few dyed strips of red. A cute striped dress that ends mid-thigh covers her tight black leggings. The way she’s staring over at Brady’s ass tells me for sure she wants him.

Brady turns around and then back to us. “That’s Kara. She’s a…family friend,” he stutters, making me think he’s lying.

“Oh.” Jessa rolls her eyes, matching my thoughts.

“So, what do you want to do?” He gazes down to me.

“Um…I don’t really care. Whatever you want is fine.”

“Then let’s go. I’m starving and you owe me a meal.” He smirks, holding his hand out for me to take.

“Alright.” I grab his hand without a second thought. “Are you coming?” I turn around to Jessa, still sitting in the booth. The other Invisibles make their way over and Rob scoots in next to her.

She looks at him and then back to me. I raise my eyebrows questioning her. Before the band’s set she couldn’t get away from Rob fast enough and now she is debating whether or not to stay with him.

“I’ll take her home,” Rob says, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Are you sure, Jessa?” I ask, concerned.

“Yeah, see you back at the dorm.” She waves her hand toward me, keeping her eyes locked with Rob. I swear she is so confusing.