Wes moved in front of us, holding a hand out to offer my brother a hi-five-ish handshake maneuver. "I better get going," he said. "Your sister just agreed to teach me how to throw knives, so give her my number, if you don't mind."
Luke nodded. "Will do," he said.
Wes glanced at me. "Give me a text tomorrow, and we'll set something up."
He was already positioned to walk away when he said that, so I didn't have the presence of mind to do anything but I agree with him. "Okay, "I said with a nod even though I hadn't agreed to anything.
He smiled at me and turned to walk toward the stage area. Luke faced me instantly, wearing an intense expression. "What'd he say? What did he say to you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Wes," he said. "When he whispered to you. What did he say?"
"He asked me to teach him how to throw knives. He said he didn't want to learn from my videos."
"I heard that part," Luke said. "What'd he whisper?"
"He was just saying he'd pay me anything to do it. I told him I was too expensive, just joking or whatever, and he said he was rich and he'd pay anything."
Luke made a face at that—one of complete confusion. "He told you he was rich?" he asked.
"Yeah, but he was just joking. He was trying to get me to agree to give him a lesson."
"Still," Luke said. "He doesn't go around telling people he has money. That's so weird."
"It wasn't like that," I said. "He was just messing around—trying to get me to teach him."
"He also mentioned his family," Luke said. "He said something about his family."
I remembered that part of our exchange—how he told us about his little sister dragging him into the attic to look through their old stuff. "You're over thinking it," I said to my brother even though I was totally over thinking it too. "He mentioned his family, but it's not like he mentioned who they were."
My brother shook his head at me like he wasn't quite convinced. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else, but Chasidy returned just before he could speak.
"I saw your friend," she said to my brother. "I waved at him, and he waved back but I don't think he knew who I was."
"We saw him," Luke said. "He came over here while you were gone."
"Did he say what time the show's supposed to start?" she asked.
"No," Luke said. "We didn't ask him that."
For a second, I was afraid that my brother might tell his girlfriend that Wes was interested in taking a lesson from me, but he didn’t say anything about it or give her any other details about our conversation. I loved my brother for that. He was loyal to Chasidy, and he was a good boyfriend, but he didn't ramble on about things.
We moved on to talking about other things like the pizza being served there at the venue. We had already eaten tacos before we arrived, but Luke kept seeing pizzas come past us, so he ended up ordering one despite the fact that he wasn't really hungry.
The opening band came onstage just before nine. Chasidy was right; they only played about five or six songs before announcing Wes's band. Firsthand was in full swing by ten o'clock. Wes was no-doubt the leader of the band, the star of the show. He was front and center with a black electric guitar strapped over his shoulder. By the end of the first song, I was convinced that they should rename their band to Wes and the Firsthands or some other name that made it obvious that he was the star—because he was. He interacted with the band, but all eyes were on him as they performed.
I had seen them perform at Katie's birthday, but there was a lot going on and I was so distracted by my friends that I hadn't been able to fully appreciate his musicianship. That wasn't the case this evening. Chasidy talked to my brother and he responded to her, but I was glad I hadn't brought a friend along because it freed me up to just stand there and watch the band.
Wes had a bluesy, soulful way about performing that reminded me of a grittier version of John Mayer. He was compelling to watch, and that's what I did. I just sat there and watched him. I really and truly enjoyed the show, and I was glad I had come out.
Halfway through the set, he took off his denim jacket and tossed it to the side. He was doing it because he was hot, but it caused all the ladies in the audience to yell out, which made me both happy and jealous at the same time. His white shirt was tight fitting and he pushed up the long sleeves revealing his muscular forearms. Everything about him made my heart race. He adjusted his guitar, grinning at the crowd's reaction to his jacket-shedding as he moved to stand closer to the microphone. He had his pic in his hand as he reached out and brought the microphone to his lips.
"This next song is called Go Ahead and Be Mine," he said.
His announcement drew a reaction from the crowd… mostly the ladies. I heard cheering and clapping and watched as Wes's eyes cut to his left. He turned and counted off the song to the drummer, and within seconds, the blues-rock tune began. It was catchy, and from the first few notes, before he even began to sing, the whole audience was swaying and nodding along.
I see you standing in the hallway,
I see you standin' at my door.
I feel you lying beside me,
just like you did before.
I hear you whisper in my ear,
that you love me so.
Then there you go again, baby.
Baby, please don't go.
I've had enough of this waitin',
It's just a waste of my time,
Tell me what we're doin', baby.
Just go ahead and be mine…
It was a compelling, soulful song with a haunting melody, and Wes delivered a passionate performance of it. I would have absolutely loved the song had it not obviously been written for someone else—the model girl—the one he had been desiring for so long.
Suddenly, I didn't want to hear any more of it.
Suddenly, I wanted to be anywhere but there.
Rather than just stand there and listen to the rest of the song, I dug in my purse and retrieved my phone. I realized, as I held it in my hand, that there was nothing to look at. I wasn't going to stand there and randomly check my email, so I dropped my phone back into my purse and instead grabbed my wallet. I leaned over to speak to my brother and Chasidy, who were both mesmerized by the performance.
"I'm going to use the restroom and maybe go to the bar and get something to drink," I said. "Do you want anything?"
Luke pulled back to look at Chasidy who shook her head. "No thanks," he said before staring at the stage again.
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asked as an afterthought. I could see that she was comfortable with my brother and was only asking to be nice like I had done for her.
I smiled and shook my head at her before taking off toward the restroom. I had to walk across the dining room to get there, and rather than cut through the middle, I decided to go around the perimeter of the room. I had almost made it all the way to the ladies room when I saw something I wished I hadn't seen.
It had to be her.
There was no way to tell for sure, but it simply had to be her. I caught sight of her because her long, graceful arm extended into the aisle as I was about to walk past her. I glanced at her only to realize that she was blowing a kiss toward the stage. She was sitting at a table surrounded by other people. She had dark, raven-like hair with a striking, statuesque face. Even when sitting down I could tell she was tall. Her makeup and clothing were that of a high-fashion model. I only glanced at her for three or four seconds as I walked by, but it was enough. It was enough for me to know what I was up against. Knife throwing or not, I was not in this girl's league. She looked fierce, like she could tear me to pieces with her eyes.
I kept walking, straight into the restroom where I used the facilities before washing my hands for way too long. I could hear the music and I knew that he had moved on to a different song, but I still took my time. I looked at that woman again on the way out of the restroom. It was like a train wreck—I didn't want to look at her, but I couldn't stop myself. She was staring straight at the stage with an adoring smile on her face. Many of the women in the room were doing the same thing, but her smile was different. There was obviously familiarity in the way she looked at him, and it made my chest hurt.
Wes hadn't promised me anything. He hadn't even flirted with me for that matter. All he did was ask me to teach him how to throw a knife. I couldn't understand why I was getting so worked up and jealous over something that didn't even exist.
During my trek from the ladies room to the bar, I made up my mind that I would not call him or give him lessons of any type. The whole point of my YouTube channel was to give people instructions on how to throw a knife. There was no need for him to come over to my house to learn how to do that—he could go out in the woods and throw at a tree if he wanted to learn. He could go to the dealership and throw at the plywood for that matter. In fact, now that I thought about it, that's exactly what he should do. My brother wasn't as into it as I was, but he knew a thing or two about throwing knives, and he could help Wes practice at the dealership. It was a perfect solution and one that I would definitely offer if the subject ever got brought up again.
I took a deep breath and smiled resolutely as I headed toward the bar. I would do my best to get through this night and forget all about how gorgeous and talented Wes Bishop was. I would forget about the fact that looking at him made my heart race and left me breathless.
I would pretend to stare at the stage, but really, I would stare at the bass player or drummer or better yet, the speakers. My plan was to ignore Wes Bishop completely, and after hearing the lyrics of that song and seeing the girl for whom it was written, I thought it was a mighty fine plan indeed.
Thankfully, by the time I got back to our place along the wall, the band only had a few songs left on their set. Just before they left the stage, Wes announced that he was thankful for such a wonderful audience and hoped to see us all again the next time they played. He also stated that the music for the remainder of the evening would be performed by DJ something or other and that everyone should stick around.
"Oh, my gosh, they were so good, weren't they?" Chasidy asked as soon as Wes shrugged out of his guitar.
"Really good," I said, smiling and trying to seem enthusiastic.
"Do you guys want to stick around to hear the DJ?" she asked, looking back and forth from Luke to me.
Luke shrugged and looked at me like he could be persuaded to do it, but I instantly shook my head. "Not me," I said "I'm tired. I'm definitely going. I can call a cab, though, if y'all want to stay."
"Oh, no," Chasidy said. "We don't need to. It's just such a cool place, and I thought you might want to stay to talk to your mate—tell 'em how much we enjoyed his show."
"I'm sure he's busy," Luke said. "I'll hit him up tomorrow and let him know we had fun."