“Kit’s cool,” Rebel muttered.
“Not from this vantage point.”
Rebel shot him the bird. “Don’t be an ass.”
I couldn’t have kept the grin off my face if I’d tried. You tell 'em, Rebel.
“You wanna get the fuck out of here and see if we can find some real fun?” Knightly offered after he’d killed yet another drink. “We can take the bottle with us. It’s already paid for. I’ll tell you all about Acoustic…Acoustic, awe, fuck, I forgot what I named it now.”
“Naa man, I think it’s time for Kit and me to get back to the hotel,” Rebel declared, the last word so slurred it came out sounding like showtell to me. “We’ve got a snow, umm, show tomorrow night, remember?”
“Told you I’d be there, didn’t I?"
Rebel nodded, though it was more a series of jerky head movements that ended with his hair in his eyes. His eyelids were beginning to droop, along with his head, which kept dipping lower and lower. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to wind up hitting his face on the table.
“Yeah, ya did,” Rebel slurred, much worse this time. “Front row. See ya from the stage. I’ll catch you after. Hang out, just us.”
“Sorry, we head for Texas right after the show,” I informed him.
Knightly just narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head. “Killjoy.”
“Douchebag,” I grumbled right back.
Rebel’s head jerked up as he glanced between me and Knightly. “Huh?”
“That was us saying goodbye,” I declared, standing and moving around the table so I could help Rebel up.
It felt like my tequila night in reverse, with me helping him out of the pub, Sully leading the way, and Vale bringing up the rear and watching our backs. Outside, Rebel sucked in a long, deep breath and managed to stand a little straighter, no doubt because the air here was fresh, crisp, and not filled with smog.
“Stay here, I’ll bring the SUV around,” Sully declared, makingeye contact with us to be certain we were paying attention.
I was, but I couldn’t tell about Rebel. His head bobbed up and down, so I hoped that was a yes. At least with Vale remaining with us, I wouldn’t be the only one on hand to stop him from trying to wander up the block if he decided to do so. Fortunately, he held still until Sully pulled up beside the cars parked on the curb, with enough room for the rear door to open between the gaps between the bumpers. It took some doing, with him fumbling to get his foot in and me shoving him from behind, to get him in the backseat. By then, he couldn’t manage the seatbelt, so I buckled him in and reached across him, rolling down his window in case he needed to puke.
“Wise decision, choosing to get out of there before you got any more shitfaced,” Sully said as he pulled into traffic.
“Prolly better sooner,” Rebel slurred as he slumped against the door.
“You’ll hear no arguments from me on that one,” Sully said. “By the way, if you throw up in here, you’re cleaning it up.”
“Not gonna puke, not that dizzy. Started hatin’ the way Knightly was ragging on Kit.”
“Your friend's an asshole,” I grumbled.
“Always. Not much changed over time.”
“How the hell do you even know that guy anyway?”
Rebel groaned and shifted around until his head was pillowed on his arms. "Kicking it after shows. Hang out. Get wasted. Good times.”
“Were they?” I asked when Sully let out a snort of his own from the front seat.
“I think we dated,” Rebel muttered, drawing my attention to him.
Now I sat there staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “You and Knightly? What the hell did you see in that dick?”
“Shouldn’t question be what saw in me?” Rebel asked, stunning me into silence. “He’s right though, ‘bout that song. We should write it. Me and you. Blissfully Buzzed.”
“I doubt you could hold your guitar tonight, let alone play it.”