Page 99 of Hot Mess
Same as it was right now.
I stashed my guitar in its case and tried not to give him the same look right back.
Back then, seemed like a pretty bad idea to hook up with anyone in the band—even a band where I was just stepping in as a guest. Maybe it would ruffle feathers, things would go sideways, and I’d never be asked back.
That was the way I saw it.
Made it easy enough not to go there.
Right now? Similar fucking problem.
In my defense, I really didn’tknowuntil right this minute that it might be a problem. Sure, I remembered Matt had given methe lookthe first time I met him. I kinda tended to remember when smoking-hot dudes looked at me like that.
Did I just magically forget about it when Summer mentioned she wanted him in our band?
No. I remembered.
I just didn’t bring it up.
Because what did it matter? I’d met Matt at least a dozen times since then, and yes, he’d given methe lookpretty much every time. But we’d never exactly been alone together, and he’d never done more than look.
Right now, even though it was just a look… it was stressing me the fuck out. I was way too drunk to handle this.
Where the fuck was Summer when I needed her?
“You want another one?”
Jesse’s voice nudged into my thoughts. He was holding a bottle of scotch my way and I wasn’t answering him nearly fast enough.
Shit, was I still looking at Matt?
Yeah. I was. But at least I wasn’t giving himthe lookor anything.
At least, I didn’t think I was…
Kinda hard to tell when I was so damn drunk.
I’d definitely checked him out, though. Knew that for sure, because even as I focused on Jesse’s face, I could remember exactly what Matt was wearing right now. Deep PurpleSpace Truckin’T-shirt, faded black jeans, leather boots laced low with the tongues hanging out, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. And how his clothes fit his hard body—snugly.
Couldn’t really help that. It was all the scotch and the late hour and the castle and the music.
And Matt.
Truth be told, I checked out guys all the time. Guys like Matty Brohmer, I checked out a little more thoroughly.
Guys who were… you know.
My type.
“No, man,” I told Jesse. “I’m good.” I stumbled to my feet, a bit less steady than I was when I’d sat down a little while ago. “Gonna go find Summer…” And with that, I took off without looking back.
I wasn’t sure what else to do. Technically, nothing had changed. Summer still wanted Matt in our band, obviously, and so did I. Though maybe right now wasn’t the best time to discuss it? I was drunk, plus, no matter how long I stumbled around the castle, I couldn’t find Summer.
And right now, I wasn’t sure I should go this alone.
Sure, I’d known Matt for a couple of years, but I didn’t know himwell. He’d always been cool to me, and I knew he had a reputation as a “nice guy,” whatever the fuck that meant. But I really hadn’t had much conversation with him—or any conversation one-on-one.
He struck me as someone who had a lot more going on than simply being “nice,” but whatever.
