“You’re right. We’re selling the new ‘Dec and Tegan’ story. Of course, she’s not gonna believe it if he tries to get frisky with her. C’mon, you need to get over there and flirt with him.”
I smacked his hand off my elbow and furrowed my brow. “What do you mean, ‘flirt’?”
Justin gave me a ‘what the fuck’ look. “I don’t know. Stand too close, offer to buy him a beer, tell him he smells good. I’ll feed you lines if you need any. Just don’t get too chummy. The guy next to her is probably her photographer. If you stick your tongue in his mouth, it’ll go viral in minutes.”
The young heavyset man mostly hidden in shadow appeared to be engrossed with his cell, but Justin was probably right. I’d bet my next rent check he was busy recording and snapping pics.
“She knows I grew up with Dec. I’ll just mention that.” I typed a quick text to him. Guy to your right is filming you.
“Good call. But flirt too.” Justin narrowed his gaze. “Hmm. Or maybe we should just mess with him.”
I grabbed his shirt. “Whoa. Why?”
“ ’Cause messing with Dec is fun. And if she’s a reporter, she’ll appreciate something unscripted to write about.”
“Like what?”
“A game of darts,” he said, sauntering their way.
Fuck. Not darts. Anything but darts. I sucked down my beer, left the glass on the table and followed.
When we were kids, my dad transformed a section of our garage into a game room. Our bikes, his tools, and various holiday boxes were stacked on one end. A giant TV, hooked up to a VCR and my gaming console, was situated on the opposite side…the same section that later became my “studio.” But when it was a kids’ playroom, my mom put a rug on the ground, IKEA shelves for board games, Barbies, and Lego storage, and bean bag chairs to lounge on. And Dad added a dart board.
No one played it. Ever. It faded and even had a wicked cobweb across the bullseye at one point. Then one day when I was thirteen and he was twelve, Dec suggested a game of darts that led to an epic fight. It was so long ago that the details were fuzzy, but there was blood and a fat lip involved.
That was ages ago, and I still didn’t like darts. But…I was good at ’em.
“…Two teams. Zero against Jealousy. We can have three players per team if the girls join. Are you in?” Justin asked, slinging his arm around my shoulders.
“Um, sure. Hi, there. I don’t know if you remember me. We met in LA a few months ago. I’m Petra.”
I shook her outstretched hand and smiled. “Yeah, I remember. I’m Tegan. What brings you to Austin?”
“You,” she replied, moving to my side as Justin organized teams. “I was at the show tonight. It was incredible, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it. I’m from Austin originally, and we love music here,” she said, inflecting a Texas twang I didn’t remember in LA. “I told Charlie to try to let me know when your tour came to town. You did not disappoint! I think y’all’ll be surprised at your reception when you get back to LA.”
“How so?” I asked, taking the dart Justin handed me.
“You have a steady stream of followers, and your base is growing like weeds. The good kinda weeds.” She hiccuped daintily. “ ’Scuse me, pardon me. I’m off the clock if we’re playing a game. How does this work? Just aim for the middle thingy, right?”
I chuckled softly. “Yeah. Are you drunk?”
“I am,” she replied with a wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave. One question, though…is your friend single?”
“Justin? No, he’s taken.”
“Not Justin. Declan. I heard a rumor about you two, but I’m not convinced it’s true.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ve had my eye on you. You don’t interact much, but that could be because you’re old friends. Old friends don’t hover like a lover does. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m just curious for myself. He’s smokin’ hot, and if you aren’t into him, I sure am.” She whirled around to point at Dec just as he walked our way and blurted, “Are you single?”
“No, I’m not.” He smiled and gestured to her empty glass. “Do you want another? I’m heading to the bar before we start any games.”
She affected a comical pout, then grinned. “Yes, please. A dirty martini if you don’t mind.”
“You got it. T, I’m gonna need help carrying the order. Come with?” Dec inclined his head toward the bar meaningfully.
“Sure.” I pulled my baseball cap from my head and put it on backward to give my hands something to do while Dec ordered.
He stepped aside to wait, clandestinely leaning into me. “Are you gonna punch me if I win?”
“Are you gonna bust open my lip?”
“Only if I have to,” he teased with a laugh. “By the way, she’s not drunk. Unless she got loaded at the show, I’m pretty sure this is her second drink. She’s looking for dirt. She spent the last ten minutes grilling me about you.”