A warm hand grasped my shoulder as we walked in. It was Mason, looking at me with concerned aquamarine eyes. “Not feeling good?”

“Not really.” I gave him a half-hearted smile.

I didn’t want to look behind me, but because I was an idiot, I did. I spotted Sacha in the parking lot with two guys, another girl and the redhead from earlier, before they made their way inside. My stomach sputtered again, and I turned back around to wait for the waitress to join three large tables for all of us to sit.

“Did you see E trip getting offstage?” Mason asked, rooted in his spot next to me.

Under normal circumstances, I would have asked for specific details and been disappointed that I missed my twin embarrassing himself, but it was a testament to the green-eyed bitch in my heart that I could barely smile. “No.”

He frowned and yanked on the end of my sweaty ponytail hard enough to make me yelp. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Quit it.”

“You dick,” I groaned, rubbing the spot where my hair was tied back. “I hope your razor yanks a couple pubes out the next time you shave down there,” I muttered.

Mason laughed. “There’s my bride.” He elbowed me with a wink. “And I don’t shave.”

Oh my God.

Just like that, I told myself to ignore the feeling in stomach and I did, mostly. I snorted, thought about hugging him for a second until I remembered he hadn’t showered in a few days, and instead poked at the spot right under his ribs where I knew he was ticklish. Once the tables were ready, I sat down between him and Eli, with Carter, Gordo and Freddy across from us.

I spotted Sacha three seats down on the same side I was on. I may or may not have noticed that he pulled out the chair next to him for the redhead before they took their seats. I ordered my food and tried to focus on the conversation around me—one was about Fruity Pebbles versus Frosted Flakes, and the other discussed woods used as guitar fingerboards. At one point, I noticed Sacha leaning forward over the table looking at me but luckily Eliza moved a split second later, blocking his view.

When I got up to the use the restroom after finishing my meal, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started poking around at the screen like I was busy sending an important text message so I could focus on that and not the people I was walking by. Once in the bathroom, I used it as slowly as possible, willing away that crappy, unsettling sensation that seemed to jackhammer away at my nerves.

He had a girlfriend, or a girl he was interested in. Was that really so surprising? It shouldn’t be.

I wasn’t particularly stunning; I rarely put a whole bunch of effort into my appearance, and we constantly teased each other and talked about bodily functions. That wasn’t exactly screaming romance.

Fine. It was fine. Everything was okay; at least it would be.

I ducked out of the bathroom, heading back to the table with a headache. Unlike before, I trained my eyes on the wall ahead of me so that I wouldn’t look down when I passed Sacha’s seat. Was I being immature? Maybe a little, but I didn’t care. My heart was pounding, my head was throbbing, and I felt like a fucking moron.

The warm, firm grasp that landed on my forearm stopped me right when I saw the shaved hair on the side of Sacha’s head in my peripheral vision.

“Fight Club,” his low voice murmured, tightening his grip on my arm.

It took everything in me to swallow the bile that had mysteriously appeared in my stomach before I glanced at him, as blankly and indifferently as possible. Friends. We were friends, I reminded myself. “Hey.”

Those pale gray eyes flickered over my face, which I knew was smudged with eyeliner and slightly oily from how much I’d sweated throughout the day. My hair was a side-ponytail mess and there were also ketchup stains on my shirt. So, pretty much, I looked as attractive as possible…