Page 97 of Silver Sweet

He twists toward me, encroaches my space to whisper-hiss, “This has been our first big break from working. I haven’t had sex inmonths.I can’t even remember the last time I haven’t fucked for this long. It’s not personal, Tom.”

“Nothing personal.Right.” I down another burning gulp.

“I saidnotpersonal,” he snaps.

“Same thing, dude.”

Phoenix watches me finish off the drink, and I motion to the bartender. “Another round,” I tell her.

“Hey.” Phoenix grabs my arm, capturing my attention. “You probably need to let off steam, too. Right? You won’t be with me. I get it.”Does he?His voice is hollow. “So you’ve got to be feeling too tightly wound…right?” He’s searching my eyes for confirmation, and my dumbass nods. “Let’s find you someone.”

“It’s all good. I already have someone.” I take out my phone and scroll through my contacts.

“No.Fuck.” Phoenix leans closer to me, putting a hand on my chest. I normally love how much he likes to casually touch me, but tonight, it’s having a weird effect. “Tom,stop. I meant a one-night stand. Not PJ.”

A smile ghosts my lips. He fucked up his name on purpose. I’m sure of it. “It’s RJ.”

“You don’t need to text him.” He jabs a thumb to the dance floor. “This place is packed, man. Okay? What’s your type?”

The bartender passes me my drink, and I take a smaller sip. “Complicated,” I tell him.

His jaw tics. “Well, I’m off the table, so let’s pick someone else.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you, dude. I can’t have you,” I tell him, my nerves liquifying. I feel like human sludge. “You’re my drummer. I’m telling you, it’sokay.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Go get your world fucking rocked. You have my blessing.”

I turn back to my phone. The alcohol is starting to hit me. I just want an escape. I want to feel good. I want RJ.

Phoenix drags a hard hand over his mouth. I think he mutters afuckbefore detaching from me. He goes to speak to the redhead, and with my new drink in hand, I find a quieter area at the back of the nightclub. A row of high-top tables huga psychedelic-muraled wall, and I set my drink on the sticky granite to free my hands to text.

TOM CARRAWAY

Hang tonight? I’m at The Trench.

His response is lightning fast.

RJ (MIDDLE NAME?)

Hey. Yeah, I’m down. Actually only a couple blocks away. See you in 5.

Five minutes? The universe must be telling me this is what I need. Why would it grant me RJ so quickly otherwise? He’s everything that’s good for me right now: Available. Not in my band. Talented in bed. Who cares if he doesn’t want to get deep? And so what if he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend?

I don’t have time for one of those anyway.

While I take heartier sips from my drink, I scroll through Beckett’s Instagram—my favorite pastime since he doesn’t run the account. Audrey does. And seeing our sister’s captions, like “slay the day away,” underneath a photo of Beckett shirtless at the gym gives me a much-needed laugh.

“Hey,” Phoenix slides over to the high-top table. I look around for the redhead, but he’s nowhere to be found. And okay, I might have had a lot to drink, but I wasnotseeing things. This guy existed.

“Is the redhead using the bathroom or something?” I ask.

Phoenix rests his Aquafina on the table. “I think he left after I told him I’m staying here.”

My heart pounds in my ears. On second thought, I might be too wasted for this convo because all I heard was he’s staying.He’s staying.And RJ will be here any fucking minute!

I run two hands through my hair. “I thought you needed to get laid,” I tell him. “Like a need, not even a want. A physical necessi?—”

“What’s your point?” he asks, cutting me off.

“I think if it’s that dire, you should go.”