Page 37 of Sangre
“Nachos are on their way,” the waitress said before hurrying off.
As Chelsea, Breanna, and Raven asked her questions about living in LA and being in the band, she kept directing her gaze back at Sangre and the women who surrounded him as he leaned against the bar talking to the bartender.
I’m being ridiculous. Of course, women are attracted to him. He’s damn sexy, and he’s got that bad boy vibe down perfectly.
“Isla?”
She stared at Raven trying to remember what they were talking about. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second. What did you ask me?”
Raven glanced over at Sangre then back at her and smiled. “The Night Rebel men get a lot of attention from women. Don’t sweat it.”
Isla ran her fingertip along the rim of her sugar-coated glass. “No, it’s not like that. I mean Sangre and I are just friends. We’ve been friends since we were in grade school. It’s cool. I mean, I have a boyfriend—Benz. He’s the drummer in the band. We’ve been on and off for almost a year, but he’s trying to be a better boyfriend. Even though Sangre and I lost touch for all these years, we’ve picked up just where we left off. It’s like that with friends.”
Raven, Chelsea, and Breanna stared at her as she rambled on and on. Her English high school teacher’s voice echoed in her brain,“Methinks thou dost protest too much.”Mrs. Paulson would say that to her when Isla would make up excuses for not being prepared or for blowing a quiz.
Licking off the sugar from her finger, she looked at Raven. “Now what did you ask me?”
“How long you’re staying in Alina.”
“At least another couple of months. We’re recording an album at a studio about thirty miles from here.” As much as she wanted to see what Sangre was up to, she forced herself to not look over at him. A light sweat broke out at her hairline, and her skin pricked and itched, like a million ants were crawling over it. She jumped up, knocking over her nearly empty drink. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.” Grabbing a napkin, she mopped up the spreading liquid.
“No worries,” Breanna said. She motioned the waitress who came over and wiped the table clean.
“Where’re the bathrooms?” Isla asked.
Pointing to a hallway right of the bar, Breanna’s gaze fixed on her. “Are you okay? You look real flushed.”
“I’m just hot all of a sudden. I’m good. I’ll be back.”
As Isla walked to the ladies’ room, she glanced at Sangre and her heart skipped a beat as his gaze met hers. Isla lost herself in his eyes: They were the color of a perfect raindrop on a blue morning glory. They reminded her of the baby blue throw she wrapped herself in when it was chilly—cozy, warm, and familiar. When she was a child, she’d believed he had his own sky inside of him. At that moment, the noise around her faded away as she stood locked in his searing gaze. Desire flickered in them, ensnaring and captivating her, making her limbs tremble, her heart pound, and her mouth go dry.
And then a blonde with breasts spilling over away too snugtop came up to him and planted a big kiss on his lips.
Isla’s stomach hardened.
She snapped her head away then walked to the restroom, refusing to give him a backward glance.
