I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Where have you been hiding all night?”
“In the kitchen. There’s a game of spin the bottle going on.”
“And you were playing with Mikey?” I bit the words out.
Why the fuck was I so pissy? Maybe I did need to get laid. I’d broken up with Kelly five months ago. She’d been more interested in portraying an image than actually into me. She liked my muscles. She liked that I played union, not league. She liked that I earned my own money. She liked that I had a career as an architect planned out and that meant more money. She didn’t know my favourite colour, or my favourite food. Or why I didn’t want to move out of home yet. She didn’t even know that I played guitar.
I hadn’t given a shit that she didn’t know those things. But the clincher for me was the fact that she could never remember Adam’s name. Who the fuck dates someone for two years and can’t remember the name of their brother?
Andy remembered Adam’s name.
“Yeah. And a bunch of other people. What’s your problem?”
“Nothing. I guess I’m having a hard time with the fact that you’re sixteen and standing here drinking a beer at an eighteenth birthday.”
“I’ve grown up since you last saw me.”
I huffed a laugh. “Yeah.” Hell yes, she had. “Which one is Johnno’s sister?”
“Kate. You met her outside the primary school a couple of years back. We danced together.”
“Right. Was that the tall one?”
“No. The redhead.”
I remembered that day. She’d been with two friends. One of them had been Jess, the girl who’d disappeared the next day and still hasn’t been seen. She’d just up and ghosted. The word around school was that she didn’t want to be found. People liked to make up all sorts of bullshit stories to explain the inexplicable. Maybe she had run away. It would be easier to accept that than the possibility that she’d been murdered. It didn’t look like we’d ever find out the truth.
I stared at her, crossing my arms. “She was with Jess. I’m sorry about your friend.” What else could I say? Losing a friend like that was fucked up. “Do you think they’ll ever find her?”
She dropped her chin and mirrored my stance. “Not alive.”
“You don’t reckon she took off?”
“I know she’s dead.”
“How? The cops don’t even know that.”
“I just know stuff. Thoughts pop in my head from nowhere and they’re always right.”
“So, a thought popped into your head telling you that she’d died?”
“Yes. I heard the word dead.”
Whoa.
I didn’t want to detract from the magnitude of what she was telling me, but at the same time, I couldn’t deal with talking about her murdered friend. I focused on the revelation of her abilities instead.
“That’s a pretty formidable gift you’ve got.”
“I suppose it is.”
“What else do you know?” Did she know how Jess died? Or who’d killed her?
“It’s not like I can pluck information from the air whenever I want it. Answers come to me when they’re supposed to come. I can’t control it.”
“If you could control it, the government would either have you committed, or they’d employ you.”
“Probably.”
“What other talents do you have besides dancing and knowing stuff?”
“I kick arse at spin the bottle.”
I didn’t want to think of her playing that game with Michael and every other horny teenage boy at this party. “What else?”
“I can touch my nose with my tongue.” She demonstrated, poking her pink tongue out and curling it up.
I blinked at the sight, my groin tightening. Damn, put that weapon away.
“What can you do besides build houses, and play rugby—both codes?”
“I can speak Spanish.”
“Really?”
“No, that’s a lie.”
She punched me on the arm, drawing a smirk to my face.
She wanted to know about me. I’d willingly tell her everything. Even my faults; and there were plenty. “I can play guitar and sing.”
“Seriously?” Her face lit up with excitement. “Go on then.”
“What? Here?”
“Yes! I wanna hear.”
“Nah.”
“Why not? If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right? Isn’t that why you take your shirt off when you get home from work?”
I almost snorted. Had she just complimented my body and called me a show-off in one sentence? “I take it off because I’m always filthy and Mum doesn’t want sawdust in the house.”
“That’s very considerate. I’m a little disappointed that you don’t strip purely for my benefit, but I’ll live. Can you sing now? Please?”
And now she wants me to strip for her. Fuck. I blew air through my nose and thought about my grandmother’s bunions. “I don’t have my guitar here.”
“Borrow one from the band.” She shrugged.
Grabbing my hand before I could say no, she led me through the crowd to the stage. We waited off to the side for the song to finish. Her warm hand stayed in mine, not letting go. I didn’t want her to let go. Ever. At that moment she wasn’t my friend’s little sister, or Michael’s friend. She was ... what? My friend? Nah, friends didn’t mess with my insides like she was doing. She was mine. I wanted her to be mine.
The song cut off and she stepped up onto the side of the stage, beckoning the lead guitarist. “Hey. You guys sound awesome. Thanks for entertaining us. Do you mind if Ben plays some guitar and sings for us? Just one song?”
“Is he any good?”
“Of course. He’s brilliant.”
I dropped my gaze to the crown of her head. She had no idea what she was talking about. Nor could she possibly know how much her faith in me meant. I stretched my neck before pulling my shoulders back. I’d
