Ten didn’t even say thank you; he snagged the cup from the bar and downed it with a hard swallow, then he gritted his teeth and focused on Asher. “What the fuck did you do to your hair?”
Asher chuckled as he flicked his head to the side, letting me see the blond ends he’d dyed into his dark hair, which I hadn’t noticed earlier when I’d come in. “Caroline thought I’d look cool with highlights. So...I went and got some. Who gave you the black eye?”
“Caroline?” Ten repeated incredulously, narrowing his eyes, and completely ignoring Asher’s return question. “You mean, my Caroline?”
Asher arched an amused eyebrow. “Your Caroline?”
Ten flashed his teeth in a silent snarl. “Noel’s Caroline. Caroline Gamble. You know who the fuck I mean, damn it.”
“Oh, well then...” Asher grinned. “Yeah, that Caroline.”
Face growing dark, Ten leaned across the counter toward Asher. “Since when are you and Caroline such great buddies?”
Asher gave a shrug as he refilled Ten’s shot glass. “Since we met at my first gig last week, I guess. We exchanged numbers and started texting—”
“You what?” Ten snagged the next drink and swallowed it whole before slamming the empty glass back down. “Does Noel know you two are suddenly so tight?”
Asher made a face as if he wanted to contradict Ten’s terminology, but then he said, “Yeah. I mean, I think he knows. Why? We just talk. What’s your deal, man?”
“My deal is that I don’t want some fucking prick talking to her and thinking he can get into her panties because over my dead body is that happening. Ever. Got it?”
Asher grinned suddenly, as if he finally had Ten exactly where he wanted him. “Why not?” he taunted. “She’s cute. She’s fun. She’s sweet. I think it could be good between us.”
“And I think my fist would feel good slamming right into your throat, motherfucker.”
A full laugh exploded from Asher. “Man, you are so obvious. If you want me to stay away from her, just tell me you like her, and I will.”
“I like her,” Ten nearly roared. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
“Fine.” Asher shrugged as if it were no problem whatsoever to step aside and let Ten have a go. Then he poured Ten a third shot.
“Fuck,” Ten muttered. “I can’t believe you got me to admit that.”
“What can I say?” Asher looked pretty proud of himself. “I’m just that good.”
“Fucker,” Ten muttered, before glancing around. “Where’s Pick?”
“He’s in the back, talking to Hamilton.”
Ten straightened; his face paled. “Ham’s here? Shit.” His gaze veered toward the hallway and instantly found me, watching them. Then his shoulders heaved as he drew in a deep breath. “Hey.” His voice was cautious, respectful, regretful.
I didn’t answer, but I did step out of the shadows before stopping again, my arms folded over my chest. He grew uncomfortable under my direct stare. He cleared his throat, glanced away and tapped his empty shot glass against the countertop, motioning for Asher to pour him another.
Asher glanced between us and then poured. He watched Ten down that shot before Ten grabbed the bottle from his hand to pour himself another. As Ten tossed that back as well, Asher pointed back and forth between us. “So, if you two are breaking up, does that mean I have to pick sides? Because I’d rather just stay neutral if it’s all the same to you.”
“Fuck you,” Ten said, shaking the bottle to find it empty. “Get a different alcohol, will you?”
When Asher did, Ten swiped it out his hand, muttering, “Stop looking at me like that, fucker.”
“Wow.” Asher let out a low whistle. “You know, I’m not sensing any appreciation. And here I’d just agreed to step aside so you could have Caroline, too.”
“You did not agree to step aside so I could have her, ass wipe. I’m never having her, either. You agreed to step aside, because you know your stupid rock-star ass is worse for her than my dumb man-whore ass. Jesus.” Ten sucked down the next shot and then shook his head and bowed his face as if the alcohol was starting to get to him.
Pick strolled out of the hallway and slowed to a stop when he spotted the newest arrival. Setting his forearm against my shoulder to lean against me, he studied Ten passively. “Well, if it isn’t Can’t-Keep-It-In-His-Pants Tenning.”
Ten slowly looked up and scowled at Pick. “Not a good time for that shit, man.”