Falling from Grace: A Billionaire Romantic Suspense series (The Filth Monger Series Book 1) by Annabel Chant

through his nose saw me and came over. He got me two more beers and took my money, but by the time I’d got my change and pushed my way back through the throng, Liv and the others had gone.
     
    I stood there for a moment, looking around for them, then the music died, and the lights with it. The only ones left, apart from behind the bar, were shining on the stage. Gav was up there, doing something to his guitar. Every now and again, he’d play a few notes, then look off stage, to the side of him, and do it again. He looked a lot more at ease, under those spotlights, than he’d appeared a few minutes earlier. For the first time, I could kind of see what Liv saw in him. He had a definite presence on stage, even just doing a sound-check.
    I looked around for somewhere to stand that was out of the way. I still felt uncomfortable, but I was starting to unbend a little, after the beer. I took a gulp of one of the beers in my hand, wishing I knew where Liv had gone. To cope with being on my own, I was going to need to unbend a whole lot more.
    I spied a pillar in the middle of the bar area, where no one was standing, and made my way over there, careful to avoid spilling my beers. When I reached it, I leant up against it and tipped my head back again, gulping down the beer. I was so thirsty. Anyway, I needed to get rid of it. I looked ridiculous, standing there with two beers. I needed to lose one, and fast. I made short work of the rest of it, and put the glass down in the sawdust at my feet. Now I could concentrate.
    I looked towards the stage. Liv was out there now, and Celeste, as well as the drummer. Some guy with long brown hair and a beard. I’d never seen him before. They were still getting ready and, occasionally, Celeste would play a short burst on the keyboard, and Gav and Liv would chime in. Then one of them would say something, and they’d all grin or even laugh. It was showmanship all the way, and they hadn’t even started. If I hadn’t witnessed it, I’d never have believed the rift that divided them was even real.
    I started on the next beer, hoping they’d start playing for real soon. Then I’ll have something to focus on, instead of standing here all alone, feeling like an idiot.
    ‘You don’t look like an idiot,’ said a voice right in my ear. I jumped, and turned around. Had I actually said that aloud? I looked at my remaining beer. It was already half empty. Then I looked up at the guy that had spoken. He was young and tanned with curly blond hair, and crinkly eyes.
    ‘Well, I feel it,’ I said, taking another swig of beer.
    ‘Why are you all alone, anyway?’ he asked. His voice had a gentle Australian lilt to it which, in my slightly drunken haze, I found incredibly attractive. ‘Do you normally hang around bars on your own?’
    ‘Not normally, no,’ I said, trying to sound dignified. ‘It’s a new thing.’
    ‘Well, why do it?’ He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I mean, a girl like you could have…’
    ‘Who’s this, Chris?’ Another voice came from behind me, cutting across him. I turned to see who’d spoken, and was confronted by another Aussie. This one was slightly taller than the first, and had rough dark hair, and stubble. The blond guy bridled, and put his hand on the pillar above me, as if staking his claim.
    ‘This is…’ He looked at me, questioningly.
    ‘Grace,’ I said, looking from one to the other, before taking another slug of beer.
    ‘G’day, Grace,’ said the dark guy. ‘Stef. Can I get you a drink?’
    I looked down at my glass. It was almost empty again. I went to speak, when Chris cut in. ‘Hey, mate. I’ll get it. This one’s mine. Go and find your own.’
    ‘I offered first.’ Stef took a step forward, the planes of his chest standing out against his tee-shirt. ‘D’you want one, babe?’
    ‘I…’
    ‘I’ll get you one,’ Chris told me firmly, then to Stef; ‘Fuck off, mate.’
    They squared up to each other, chest to chest, and I shrank back