Milo squirmed and wriggled away from me. “Archer…”
“I can’t help it. That outfit is driving me crazy.” I threw a glance at Ryder, then focused on Milo. “Want to check out a stall in the bathroom?” Maybe then I could get some clarification from him. The situation was a little weird.
As his eyes grew wide, Milo snuck a peek at me. “Uh, no. That’s not um…” He tossed a glance toward the band wives’ table. “We need to play any minute.”
“Come on. It’ll be quick.” I bit Milo’s shoulder. How else could I get him alone? “You’re such a tease, Milo.”
“That’s enough.” Puffing his chest out, Ryder straightened his spine. “He said no.”
Both me and Milo stopped and stared at Ryder, mouths dropping open. He was pissed. Was he jealous? We were only playing, something we did all the time in Milo’s bedroom.
Ryder pursed his lips and swallowed hard.
“Thank you, Ryder.” Milo pushed my chest.
I stumbled a step back. What the hell was going on?
“Stop pawing at me,” Milo said.
“If you didn’t want me to paw at you, why did you dress like that?” I furrowed my brows. This was a completely different Milo than the one I saw in his bedroom. What the fuck?
“Did you really just say that out loud?” Ryder climbed off his barstool and planted his forearm on the bar, crowding me.
I threw my hands out in front of me. “What? I’m sorry. Okay? I-I didn’t mean anything by it.” I brushed my knuckles on Milo’s cheek. I was losing this battle. How do I get through to him, so Ididn’t look like a dick to his friend? “You know what those lacy panties do to me, babe.”
Ryder rubbed his temple.
“Yeah, okay. I know.” Milo leaned his cheek into my touch.
Finally, he was coming around. My heart warmed.
Gabe, the drummer for the band strode to us. “Hey, everything all right here?” He looked each of us over, then focused on Milo. “We’re ready. The place is filled to capacity.” He ticked his brows, then grabbed Milo’s hand and pulled him off his stool. “He’s mine now, boys.” With a sly grin, he led Milo to the stage where the others were adjusting mics and fiddling with instruments.
Ryder snuck a glance at me.
With a peek at Ryder, I pressed my lips together. I had to make this right somehow and get to the bottom of it. “Look, I don’t know you well, but I know you and Milo have something special. He gushes about you.” I flagged down the bartender and ordered us both beers.
“Yeah, okay.” Ryder inhaled deeply.
I’d just give him the truth. “Maybe I’m a little jealous, you know?” I tilted my head, wrapping my hand around a beer glass as the bartender dropped them both off. With a shrug, I said, “I don’t know how to act around you.”
“Yeah, I guess I know what you mean. I wasn’t sure how to act around you, either. Milo’s never brought a guy around me that he was interested in.” He sipped his beer.
“So, what do you say we call a truce? We both care about Milo, right?” If nothing else, we should all leave here as friends. I held up my hand.
He gave me a bro shake without the hug. “Yeah, we both care about Milo.”
The stage lit up and Devin, the singer, pranced to his microphone, then ripped it off the stand, his long red bangscovering one of his heavily lined and shadowed eyes. “We’re starting off with a new song that Milo, over there on keys, picked.” Pointing at Milo, he lifted the edge of his mouth. “I don’t know, but I think he likes it because it has a cool keyboard sound in it.”
Milo nodded, a pink light shimmering off the white sequins on his cropped shirt.
“We are Knot Me and this isSomebody Told Meby the Killers.” Devin dipped his head.
Screams and shouts filled the room and people rushed the stage.
“Holy shit.” I climbed up onto my barstool while Ryder did the same. Thankfully we were here and not in the throng of people fighting to get at the stage.
Devin held his fist up and the band readied their instruments, the guitar players with their hands hovering over pickups and frets. When he dropped his fist, Silas and Axel, both guitar players, strummed a harsh riff on their guitars and pranced to the front of the stage while Caleb, the bassist, thumped his bass in time with Gabe hitting his cymbals.