Boys Like You

Though I caught a few looks that landed on Monroe and didn’t leave. Bill Ferris gave a long, low wolf whistle which Monroe ignored.

We reached the fire, and Monroe tugged her hand from mine. It was the right call. I mean, already a couple of girls who ran in Rachel’s crowd were staring her down, but still, it felt good holding her hand.

She felt good. Steady. Real.

And that was pretty screwed up, considering I didn’t think she liked me all that much, and technically, I still had a girlfriend.

I decided not to think about it too much. I decided that tonight I was gonna push all the crap out of my head and maybe have a good time. Or at least try to.

I’d been closed off from everyone for so long that it felt weird to see some of the old crowd hanging out near the fire, including Brent, the bassist in my band.

I thought he’d gone up to the cottage with Link and Rachel and the others, so it was a surprise to see him here.

He was shirtless, with his beige cargos hung so low I hoped he’d at least taken the time to pull on a pair of boxers. You see, Brent had a trigger. An old Def Leppard song, “Foolin’,” was his dad’s favorite song, and whenever he heard it, if he was drunk enough, off came his clothes.

The girls didn’t seem to mind too much, and us guys just thought he was crazy as shit. Brent was also one hell of a w

ide receiver and, as quarterback, my go-to when we played. He had nimble fingers for catching my passes and made the bass sound melodic in a way that not many players could.

His face made me think of things I wanted to forget, but I couldn’t lie.

It was good to see him.

“Dude,” he said with a slow grin, grabbing my shoulders tightly as he shook me. “Where you been hiding yourself?”

We hadn’t jammed once since the accident. Hell, I hadn’t picked up my guitar since our last gig. And it wasn’t that we couldn’t or didn’t want to. It’s just…without Trevor, the band was dead. It was like the soul, the groove, and the life were gone, sleeping beside him in that hospital bed.

“I’ve been working for my uncle.”

“Every damn day? That sucks.”

For a moment, his bright blue eyes shadowed and he stood back, rubbing the day-old stubble along his jaw. It wasn’t stubble so much as peach fuzz, and it was something I used to razz him about a lot.

Except I didn’t feel much like razzing.

“You seen Trev?” he asked carefully.

I nodded but didn’t elaborate. I wasn’t about to tell him that Mike Lewis had just threatened to kick my ass all over the hospital. It was a small town. I’m sure he’d hear it soon enough.

“I stopped in a few weeks back but he just…” Brent’s voice was subdued.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

“Yeah, I know.”

Brent’s eyes quickly slid from me to Monroe and the moment passed. He winked at her. “New blood? What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Monroe,” she answered.

Brent’s grin widened even more and he bent over at the waist. “Nice to meet you, Monroe. Y’all don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“I’m not.”

“So where’re you from, sugar?” His eyes moved over her from head to toe, and something inside me tightened. I nearly stepped forward but caught myself in time. I wanted to shove him the hell away from her, and that was wrong. Monroe didn’t belong to me. Shit, I barely knew the girl.

“I’m from New York City, and my name’s not Sugar.”

He snorted. “Your name might not be Sugar, but I bet you taste real sweet.”