Page 47 of Sangre
Devin stared at her. “Is it that one guy with the long brown hair who’s picked you up a few times?”
“You’ve asked me that before, and the answer is the same. Yes, it’s him.” Inserting one of her ear buds, she turned away. “I need to finish my workout.”
“I thought you told me you like theater.”
“I do, but it just isn’t going to happen. I don’t mean to be rude, but I only have limited time here.” She put the other earphone in and cranked up the music. In her peripheral vision, she saw him still standing there scowling with his arms crossed. Unease filled her as she turned up the speed. After several minutes he stalked away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The guy just didn’t catch on. Ever since she’d joined Fitness Gallery, he’d been trying to get her to go out with him. There were a lot of nice, available women who exercised at the gym, and she’d even pointed out several to him, but he seemed hell bent on going out only with her. It had become annoying, and she’d decided if he didn’t stop, she’d have to talk with the manager about it. Grabbing her arm while she was on a moving machine was stupid as hell, and she could’ve been seriously injured.
A half hour later, she was guzzling down water as she waited for her body to cool down. Ignoring Devin, she rushed off to the locker room, took a quick shower, changed, and was in the car hurrying to The Rear End to meet the band. Before getting out, she pulled down the visor, swiped a pink gloss over her lips, and smiled. “Thank God for waterproof makeup,” she muttered as she opened the door and got out.
When she walked in the building, she noticed Benz leaning against the stage, cigarette hanging from his lips, and talking to a woman. Arsen gave her a high five, Jac jerked his head, and Gage jumped off the stage and came over to her.
“Jim said we can practice until three o’clock,” Gage said.
Looking over his shoulder, she quirked her lips. “Who’s Benz talking to?”
He looked behind him then shrugged. “Some chick that was here when we arrived. How’s the new song coming?”
“Almost done. I think you’re going to love it.” She turned toward the bar and asked the bartender for a ginger ale with lots of ice.
“Hey, babe.” Benz’s deep voice washed over Isla, surrounding her with the scent of cigarettes, whiskey, and pine.
“Hi.” She picked up her glass and put the straw in her mouth.
“You still pissed at me?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
She put her drink on the counter. “As I remember it, you were the one mad at me and stormed out of the house.”
Benz pushed her hair away from her neck with his nose. “That’s ’cause you didn’t want to fuck. It’s been too long, baby. I’ve got needs and you do too. Why the hell are you putting us in the deep freeze?”
“I’ve been dealing with a lot of things, okay?” She inched away from him. “I just told Gage that I’ve finished the new song. I think it’s amazing, and I’m sure you’ll think so, too.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Great news. Wow, I can see why that kept you busy. Tell me one thing, songbird. How in thefuckdo you have time to hang with your assholefriendand write the goddamn song, but you have no time for your boyfriend? How the fuck does that work, Isla? I really want to know.” He kicked over one of the chairs.
“Chill, dude,” Gage said.
“Stay the fuck outta this!” Benz pointed his finger at the rhythm guitarist.
“Is there a problem?” the owner asked, coming around the bar.
Benz swatted the air with his hand. “Ask Ms. Fucking Songwriter!”
Jim bent over and picked up the chair. “Don’t break shit in my place, or your asses are outta here.”
“Sorry,” Isla said.
Jim fixed his gaze on Benz. “Why’re you apologizing? I wasn’t talking to you.”
Benz jerked his head back and met the owner’s stare. Isla cleared her throat. “We better get rehearsing.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Come on. All’s good.” Benz reluctantly let her pull him away, but he kept looking back at Jim, who maintained his stance.
“Don’t fuckin’ blow this, dude. We need to get the feel of the acoustics for our upcoming show,” Arsen said.
Benz yanked his arm out of Isla’s grasp. “Talk toherabout all this. You never give her shit, and it’s her fuckin’ fault most of the time.”
His words were like kerosene to an already burning fire in her. Benz never took responsibility for anything he ever did, even when he cheated on her. He had told her he was sorry when she’d caught him, but somehow, he’d managed to twist it around, making it her fault that she’d been so busy and hadn’t given him the attention he needed as a man.
“That’s not true,” Gage said.
Benz brushed past him and jumped up on stage. “I don’t listen to a fucking thing you say. I swear you’ve got the hots for my girl. Youalwaystake her side.”
