Instead she opened her mouth and a beautiful voice emerged.
“Damn,” Rory said. “I was right.”
The girl started to play a mind-blowing version of “On the Street Where You Live,” from My Fair Lady. She’d turned the song around from something somewhat upbeat and hopeful to something that almost sounded like a breakup song. Her voice wrapped a bittersweet bow around it and changed the tone of the music completely. When she was done, she was treated to a rousing round of applause.
“That girl is going places,” Chloe said, and we all agreed. The next few singers brought things way downhill: A few guys that were too drunk to even form words and a girl who was completely tone deaf.
“My ears, my ears!” I said after the girl left the stage. She’d only gotten a smattering of polite applause and looked crushed that everyone hadn’t loved her cover of a Britney Spears hit.
“That was especially painful,” Rory said. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Chlo?” She had been staring off at something.
“What?” Chloe said, not taking her eyes off whatever she was looking at. I followed her line of sight and saw it. Or rather, who. It was a girl in a cute dress who was laughing so loud you could hear it over the music and the din of the bar. She had silky blonde hair all the way down her back and gauges in her ears.
“You getting a vibe?” I asked, and she finally looked back at me.
“Maybe. I’m going to go check.” She got off the barstool and headed on over. We all watched, waiting to see what would happen. If there was anything Chloe wasn’t, it was shy. She had no qualms about hitting on someone, whether she knew they were gay or not. If anyone ever said anything about it, she’d just rant about the Kinsey scale and bisexuality and sexual freedom.
She came back a few minutes later, a little deflated.
“Boyfriend. Which I could work on, but she said her favorite musical artist was Miley Cyrus. I can’t deal with that.” She made a gagging noise, and we all agreed.
The night wore on, and I found myself laughing more than I had in a long time. It was good to get out and not have to think about work or Ryder or lying about hanging out with Ryder.
Of course the night couldn't go by completely without a mention of him. Chloe and Marisol already knew about what had happened after the ball, so they were eager to hear of any developments.
“Nothing. Nothing is happening. He’s still dealing with his own shit and therapy and being sober. He doesn’t need to add me to that,” I said, and Rory agreed.
“But, um, we’re sort of hanging out as friends. Nothing serious.”
“Uh-huh,” Marisol said, a smile on her face. “Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.”
“What? I can be friends with him,” I said, and that earned me some laughter.
“You can’t be friends with someone that you have insane sexual chemistry with. It’s just not possible. You can be friends and have sex with each other, but you can’t just do the friends without the sex,” Chloe said. “It’s pretty much been proven by science.”
“Oh, has it?” I said. I wanted to go back to talking about the awful singers, but they were currently taking a break before the next round went on stage so there was a lull in the action.
“Pretty much,” Marisol agreed. “Honestly, I’m shocked you’ve lasted this long. I was ready to jump Fin within the first few hours.” Well, Fin was another case of a walking sex god. He was unbelievably hot and carried himself in such a way that made you know he was glorious in bed. Marisol was sketchy on the details, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was keeping her very satisfied.
“It’s not that hard. I mean, sometimes I have to not look at him. And I usually have to do something with my hands so I don’t touch him. It’s not that bad, really,” I said. “I mean, he keeps his distance. He won’t let me come to his place and he won’t come to my apartment anymore.”
“Yeah, because there are no other places to hook up,” Chloe said with a snort. “If you’ve only hooked up in a bed, then I’m sorry for you.”
No, I hadn’t only hooked up in a bed. I’d hooked up in lots of places, but Ryder was different. I couldn’t seem to make them understand that.
“Well, she’s doing the right thing,” Rory said, patting my arm. “Hey, how about I get the next round?” Everyone cheered, and I took drink orders before going back to the bar to get them.
No one said anything about Ryder when I got back, and I had the feeling Rory had a little chat while I went to get the drinks. I gave her a look of thanks.
~*~*~
Chloe ended up plastered, so Marisol and I helped her into a cab. They shared one since Marisol lived in the next building over and was going to stay with Chloe to make sure she got to bed okay.
“Ready?” Rory was a little tipsy, but I was almost entirely sober. I just hadn’t felt like getting drunk tonight.
“Yeah.” We also shared a cab, but Rory didn’t go down the hall to her place; instead she followed me into mine.
“Are you in love with Ryder?” she asked, point blank.