K. Linde - Take Me for Granted

“Yeah,” Donovan said. He was practically giddy. “Why don’t you have a good time with us, too?”

He reached for her again, like she was a toy he wanted to play with.

Ari deflected his advance. “Do I look like I’m here for your amusement, pretty boy?”

“You’re pretty amusing. Everyone else thinks so.”

Ari glanced around, and it seemed to dawn on her that we had an audience. Her cheeks colored. I could see her withdraw from the world around her. She hated crowds, and she hated being noticed. I saw the same panic in her eyes now that I had seen the time we’d been on the quad when she’d flipped her shit on me.

“Whatever. Have your fun then,” she said.

She was silently pleading with me, but I was pissed, too. Who does she think she is to come in here and bitch me out in front of all these people?

I crossed my arms over my chest. “All right.”

She shook her head at me in disbelief and then turned and started walking out of the room. Donovan started walking after her, but Hollis got in his way at the exit. Good. I wouldn’t have to go beat the shit out of him. I kind of liked the guy. But he couldn’t touch Ari.

At her exit, everyone started talking again, and the room quickly returned back to its earlier state of debauchery. My thoughts were swirling in my head, telling me that I should fucking go after her. I was an idiot. I should make this right. She was too good for me. I was just a drunk loser who had managed to win a girl I didn’t deserve. If I wanted to keep her, I needed to go—right now.

But I remained rooted to my spot. I wasn’t going to go after her. She had embarrassed both of us. They weren’t just some band. They were also my future colleagues. These were people I needed to know if I wanted to get picked up. Having a girlfriend chastise me in front of everyone wasn’t exactly a way to endear myself to them.

I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I took several healing breaths to try to keep them at bay. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I couldn’t believe I’d just seen Grant in that state. I couldn’t believe how that argument had just gone down. I couldn’t fucking believe that all he had said was that he was having a good time.

God, he’s being so careless. It wasn’t just the girls. Though, the whole Kristin thing was irritating. Is that what all that shit had been about in class? Is she interested in Grant? Ugh, I didn’t want to think about it.

Either way, while the girls had irritated me, I didn’t actually think he would do anything. He’d had his chance for months, and he’d said that he hadn’t. He could have been lying, but I didn’t want to believe that.

The truth of the matter was that I was more worried about him throwing away everything he’d worked for. It had been clear he thought The Drift could help them get signed. But he obviously hadn’t thought about the fact that none of the other guys had gotten an invite to the private party. To me, that meant they wanted him, not the band, and that was something he absolutely would not agree to. Would he agree to that if he were obliterated like he was?

No. No way.

Gah! Even when I was pissed at him, I was more concerned for his well-being than anything. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why should I bother being concerned about his future when he isn’t?

Then, I thought back to the way he had treated me. One second, he had manhandled me and said he was going to destroy Donovan if he touched me, and the next second, he hadn’t said a damn word when I was being humiliated. After what had happened last night and this afternoon, I just couldn’t fathom what the fuck his problem was.

I found Miller and McAvoy almost as soon as I’d exited the private room. They looked at me and then at each other with worry between their eyebrows. I hadn’t hung out with them all that much, but I must have looked like a wreck to get that much concern from them.

“What happened?” Miller asked.

I swept my hands under my eyes and shook my head. I never got like this. I’d been broken up with countless times, and I had never shed a tear. Grant and I were just arguing, and I was crying.

To my surprise, it was McAvoy who comforted me. “Grant’s kind of an ass. He probably didn’t mean whatever he said.”

“That’s comforting,” I said sarcastically.

“We’ve known him for a long time. He doesn’t exactly have a way with words.”

They were probably right, but I just wanted to walk back into the room and punch Grant in the face. When I could speak without a shuddering breath, I finally told them. “He’s with The Drift.”

“What?” Miller gasped.

McAvoy looked just as shocked.

“I don’t have any idea what he’s doing, but he’s all fucked-up.”

“Christ! And we have to go on soon,” Miller said.

“No Grant and no Vin,” McAvoy said, looking at Miller accusingly. “This is going to be a great show.”

“Vin will fucking be here,” Miller grumbled.

“I’m just going to go back inside and hang out with my friends. Grant was going to show me around backstage, but obviously, that isn’t happening.”

“Do we need to go get Grant?” Miller asked.

I shrugged. Honestly, I didn’t know. Grant was pissed, but I didn’t know what that meant. I couldn’t imagine him not playing the show. Music was his passion. It had gotten him through much worse times than this. I didn’t care how fucked-up he was. He would never ditch a show.

“I think he’ll show.”

McAvoy nodded. “He’s never ditched us before.”

A flicker of worry passed across Miller’s face. Did he know that it’s a very real possibility that record labels are interested in Grant, but not necessarily ContraBand? Is he worried that the more time Grant spent with other bands, the more likely he might sell out? It was my worry…my fear. I hated seeing it reflected back to me.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Miller finally agreed.

Just as I was turning to leave, I saw Vin stalking across the room.

“Looks like you’re only one short,” I said.

I didn’t want to be here to see this confrontation. Hopefully, Vin had taken McAvoy’s advice, calmed down, and left that shit behind him. By the fury on his Italian face though, I was starting to think he didn’t do calm.

“So, I’m fucking here,” Vin said.

“And I’m leaving,” I said.

“Hey, where’s Grant?”

“Occupied.”

Vin raised his eyebrows at me. “Well, if he is, you want to be?”

McAvoy smacked him on the chest. “Not right now, bro.”

“What? If Grant is fucking some other girl, then I can fuck his girl. That’s how it works, right?”

Vin and Miller glared at each other.

“Fucking drop it, Vin,” Miller snapped.

I heard McAvoy say something else, but I was already walking away. The band went on in thirty minutes, and I didn’t want to be backstage when Grant surfaced. I was having a hard enough time keeping my emotions under control around his friends. I wasn’t sure what I would do when I came face-to-face with Grant again.

Cheyenne, Shelby, and Gabi had staked out a spot near the front of the stage. Drinks in hand, they were discussing the last band who had performed. Apparently, the lead singer had been dressed in drag, and the band had played “Piano Man” to close their set. They said that it had been a sight to behold.