Like Gravity (4 page)

“Jeeze, calm down, Lex,” I said, rubbing my arm. “You didn’t have to hit me so hard!”

Lexi ignored me, suddenly throwing her head back and laughing hysterically in an attempt to g
rab Tyler’s attention. Her loud, albeit false, laughter succeeded in drawing his eyes, and he immediately beelined toward us.

“Lexi, you made it,” he smiled,
evidently happy to see her.

“Oh, yeah, I mean, Brooklyn wanted to go out so I said I’d come,” she shrugged, happily throwing me under the bus in
her attempts to appear nonchalant. Tyler’s gaze shifted over to me.

“You’re Brooklyn, I assume?” Tyler asked.

“Guilty,” I said. “And you are?”

As if Lexi hasn't gushed about you ad-nauseam for the past five hours.

“Tyler,” he said. “I’m in the band. Drums.”

Tim had finally returned with lime slices and a salt shaker, saving me from making any small talk. He poured out four shots instead of the two I’d requested, lining them up in front of us.

“Go big or go home, ladies,” he grinned in challenge.

“Tim, we really only wanted the one round,” I said, peeved that he was either A) trying to get us drunk or B) incapable of following a simple drink order.

“Oh, come on,” he said, “Don’t be such a pussy.”

Oh, no. He did
not
just call me a pussy.

I grabbed my first shot, throwing it back and chasing it quickly with one of the lime slices.
Placing the empty glass upside down on the bar, I reached for the other shot, fully prepared to throw it in Tim’s cocky face. I’d endured more than enough of his bullshit for one night.

As my fingers grazed the shot glass, a hand launched over my shoulder and plucked it from my grasp. I watched, stunned, as the hand carried the tequila around me and out of sight. Confused
and slightly pissed that my drink-throwing plans had been undermined, I spun around to confront the shot-thief.

Oh, perfect. This night just keeps improving.

I glared as Finn threw back my tequila. He winced and leaned forward to grab a slice of lime off the bar, completely invading my personal space with his reach. His chest grazed mine as he placed the empty shot glass and lime rind back on the countertop.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t
Patrón,” he complained, still standing far too close for my liking.

“That was my shot!” I said, shocked at his audacity.

“There are two more sitting right there, from what I can see,” he noted indifferently.

“Those are Lexi’s! And that isn’t exactly my point, here.”

“It doesn’t really look like Lexi is interested in them. In fact, she’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.” He jerked his head to the side, toward Lexi and Tyler, who were busy making out a few feet away.

“Jesus, that was fast,” I muttered.

Finn laughed and I felt it rumble through his chest, which was still pressed against mine. Placing both hands on his midsection I pushed hard, trying to shift him away from me. He didn’t budge, even when I put considerable weight behind the shove.

“Back off!” I snapped, exasperated by my inability to move him. “This isn't funny.”

“Fine, fine,” he chuckled, putting both hands up in a submissive gesture and taking a step back. “It’s not my fault you’re such a shrimp.”

“A
shrimp
? What is this, the first grade?” Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the bar and reached for another tequila shot.

“Are you always so friendly, or am I a special case?” he asked sarcastically.

“What can I say, egotistical jerks really bring out the best in me.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” he drawled, moving up next to me at the bar and grabbing the other shot glass. “You know, I’m only a jerk because I’ve been hiding my deep emotional pain. You want to come back to my place and hear about it after the show? I can open up to you, cry on your shoulder, and then afterwards you can comfort me. Preferably naked.”

“Does this shit
ever
actually work for you?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Do girls really fall for the emotionally-damaged-jackass ploy?”

“Usually,” he laughed, completely unashamed by his methods. “My dashing good looks and endless charm don’t hurt either.”

“Charm?” I snorted, “HA!”

“I am, in fact, very charming,” he insisted. “Most of the time.”

“So I’m just – what did you call it? – a
special case
, then?” I laughed, preparing to throw back my shot.

“Wait, don’t you want some salt for that? I’ll let you lick it off my hand and everything.”

“Pass. Who knows where those
hands have been?” I grimaced, throwing my head back and letting the tequila burn a path down my throat. A slow warmth was beginning to spread through my body, swirling out from my stomach to fill each limb.

Finn
burst into laughter at my comment.

“You’re funny,” he said, still chuckling, “And you can hold your own. We’re going to be great friends, I can tell.”

“Friends? I don’t even like you.”

“Yes you do,” he scoffed, tossing back his tequila. “Everyone likes me.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“So much sass in such a very small package,” he laughed, looking down at me.

“Speaking of very small
packages
,” I said, glancing at his belt buckle suggestively, “Don’t you have a set to finish?”

Ignoring my insinuation,
Finn once again leaned forward into my space. I immediately moved away, until my upper back brushed against the bar. His eyes traveled leisurely down the length of my body and then back up to meet mine. Reaching out to touch my temple, he gently traced a finger over the now-concealed bruise.

“Brooklyn,” he whispered, his face inches from mine.

“What?” He was unnervingly close, leaving me no room to move away.

“You still owe me that t-shirt,” he said grinning broadly, his demeanor switching from smoldering to playful in less than a second.

“You want me to get you a t-shirt for your own band? You can get a new one whenever you want! There’s no way in hell I’m paying for it,” I growled. “And you just drank two of my shots. So we’re even.”

“You didn’t even pay for those shots,” he noted. “So technically
—”

“Oh, just shut up.”

He laughed, turning away from me and taking a few steps toward the entwined form that was Lexi and Tyler.

“
Yo, Ty! We’ve got a set to finish man,” he called. “Break’s over.”

Tyler broke away from Lexi and shot a lengthy glare in
Finn’s direction, finally turning back to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was had her beaming brightly. She gave him a final, lingering kiss before he walked away.

“Oh, and Brooklyn,”
Finn called out to me as he followed Tyler to the stage, ignoring the desperate girls flocking around him. “Why don’t you get yourself an
Apiphobic Treason
shirt and wear it all day tomorrow to commemorate our new friendship.
Then
we can call it even.”

I flipped him off
in response. He laughed – as usual, he was completely unaffected by my disdain – shaking his head back and forth as he walked away.

Lexi wandered over, still slightly flushed from her blatant PDA session.

“Well, you two looked…friendly,” I laughed.

“Oh. My. God.” Lexi whispered, a goofy grin spreading across her face. “I think I’m in love.”

“Lexi, you’ve known the boy for less than 24 hours,” I noted.

“Time didn’t matter to
Romeo and Juliet,” she sighed dreamily. “They only knew each other a few days.”

“Yes, and look how that turned out -- they both ended up dead. Have we learned
nothing
from history?” I asked incredulously.

“You’re such a cynic, Brooke,” she said, “One day, someone will break down all those walls you’ve surrounded yourself with and worm his way into your heart. Then you’ll understand.”

I chose to ignore that comment. Clearly, Lexi was now a certified love guru. By this point, the band members had regrouped onstage and were preparing to finish their set. I welcomed the distraction, glad for a brief respite in what I was sure to be a night of endless, lovesick Tyler-worship.

“Can we go home now?” I asked.

“What? No! We have to stay for the end of the set, Brooke. Plus, Tyler said he’d see me after the show.”

At this point, I was too tired to argue with her. Last night’s lack of sleep was finally catching up to me, as were those final two shots. I grabbed her hand and led her back to the dance floor, maneuvering past several drunken couples shamelessly hooking up against the club walls.

After pulling us into the heart of the throng, Lexi and I began to dance. Within minutes, two cookie-cutter blonde frat boys had joined us. Mine – either Jason or James, it was hard to hear over the music – snaked one arm around my waist and pulled my body flush against his, grinding his hips into mine. He was cute enough, but I wasn’t in the mood to be mauled on the dance floor tonight.

I looked at Lexi with wide eyes, signaling for her intervention.  Her eyes flared with understanding
and she moved away from her own frat boy, grabbed my hand, and pulled me from Jason-James’ grasp. Quickly leading me toward the stage, Lexi tossed a parting wink and goodbye wave over her shoulder in the boys’ direction.

“Thanks
,” I said when we were safely hidden from their view.

“Don’t thank me, it’s in the wing-woman job description,” she said, looping one arm around me. “I’m so happy we came tonight.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Aren’t you? What were you and
Finn talking about at the bar?”


“Um, mostly we just insulted one another,” I said, “I’m surprised you came up for air long enough to notice.”

“Very funny,” Lexi muttered.

The rest of the set flew by. I was feeling the full effects of the tequila, and everything was slightly fuzzy around the edges. Before I knew it, Lexi was tugging on my arm, waving a hand in front of my face to capture my attention.

“Brooklyn! How drunk are you?” She looked sternly down at me, hands planted firmly on her hips. “We’re leaving now, the set’s over. Come on,” she ordered.

I trailed behind her, one hand loosely clasped in hers, and we were carried along with the crowd as they poured out the club doors and into the night.

“Come on, drunky,” Lexi chided as we cleared the exit, leading me around a corner and down a dim alley between buildings.

A few yards into the alley, a side exit door opened into the narrow passageway. Tyler and the other band members were laughing as they walked outside, lugging instruments and stereo equipment into a waiting van.

“Tyler!” Lexi called out, announcing our arrival.

He finished storing his drums in the trunk before turning to greet us, swooping Lexi up into his arms and spinning her around like a child.

“Did you like the rest of the set?” Tyler asked, placing her back on her feet.

“You were so good!” Lexi squealed.

I began to tune them out, leaning back against the cool brick building and closing my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed and sleep, even if it only was for a few brief hours. Drunk and exhausted, my legs felt almost as heavy as my eyelids, which had begun to drift closed of their own accord.

“You look like shit,” a voice said. Cracking open one eye, I took in the sight of
Finn standing directly in front of me, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Thanks,” I croaked, “That’s the look I was going for tonight.”

“I meant you look exhausted. And possibly wasted.”

I let my eyes close again, trying to shut him out. The tequila thrummed through my veins and I planted my palms flat against the brick to steady myself.

“Don’t pretend you know me,” I mumbled tiredly.

“Do you need a ride home? I’d guess Lexi isn’t leaving anytime soon.”

My eyes snapped open in surprise, fixing on his face. I’d come to expect asshole-Finn; I wasn’t quite sure what to do with an offer from chivalrous-Finn. I looked over at the van, now completely packed with band equipment.

“Where am I going to sit, the roof?” I asked acerbically. “Also, you’ve been drinking. I may be wasted, but I’m not stupid enough to climb into a car with you behind the wheel at the moment.”

“Relax, I’m not driving. It’s Scott’s van,” he said, indicating the bass player leaning against the driver’s side door. “Come on, let’s go tell Lexi you’re leaving.”

“I don’t even know you!”

“I’m not a serial killer, Brooklyn. Pinky promise,” he chuckled.

He walked over to Tyler and Lexi, who were sitting on the back bumper, intermittently kissing and staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Ah, true lust,
I thought sarcastically.