The Hysterics Read Online Free PDF Page A

guess. A big group head to Mountain Breath on Third a few times a week. They have open mic night on Thursdays.”
    “That’s the place!”
    The drive didn’t take long, and soon I was tipping the cabdriver and making my way into a dimly lit bar that resembled more of a hallway than anything else. I craned my neck over the packed bar toward a small stage with a backless barstool and a microphone set up under a spotlight. Sitting at a table right next to the stage were Dane and Maverick. After shoving through the crowd of people, I finally made my way over to them.
    Dane jumped up with a stupidly giddy grin sweeping across his face. “You made it!” he shouted over the rumbling of the bar patrons.
    I nodded and mouthed “Hi” to Maverick before he got up and gave me one of those dude-half-hug-things. I took my seat across from Dane as he waved to a tall server with long, straw-colored barrel curls that were almost touching her ass. She bounced over and plopped right on Dane’s lap without any hesitation. A sharp bite of jealousy hit my stomach as I pictured throwing the bleached blonde – with her corset that was two sizes too small for her fake rack – off Dane’s lap, gripping his face, and claiming his lips for my own again. My face must have given my thoughts away because Dane hurriedly cleared his throat and shifted her off him.
    With a frown, she stood and looked over to me. “What do you want?” she snapped.
    The bite in her voice and the look of disgust that infected her once perky smile gave me more pleasure than it should have.
    “Just a light beer please.” I smiled as sweetly as I could while I watched her walk to the bar to get my drink.
    Dane looked right into my eyes, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s been pulling that shit with all of us since she started working here.”
    Maverick nodded. “Yup. A wannabe if I’ve ever seen one.”
    Play dumb. It’ll help keep this charade up.
    “Wannabe what?” I questioned, pretty sure of the answer, but I wasn’t supposed to be from their world. “Ugh. It wasn’t until we started playing bigger clubs that groupies started to be so forward and annoying. They just want to be around on the off chance that we’ll become famous and then they can brag about their band whore rating.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh extremely loudly at how sincere and disgusted Maverick was while he made that statement. “I guess a band whore rating is like a badge of honor for slutty groupies, huh?”
    A beer bottle slammed down next to me and I glanced up just in time to see that terrible look still plastered on our server’s face.
    “Well, I guess I offended someone.”
    Maverick glanced over at the huffing server while she glared over in my direction. “Yeah, looks that way,” he chuckled.
    I winked at Dane as he shrugged. His voice was gravelly as his voice strained to be louder than the crowd. “Some people hate hearing the truth. I, on the other hand, prefer it.”
    Before I could think too much about Dane’s comment and hope that it hadn’t been directed at my true identity, a heavyset woman heaved onto the stage and grabbed the mic.
    “First up, we have Candice Davenport accompanied by Maverick Steele.”
    The bar clapped and cheered as Maverick shoved away from the table. “Wish me luck, guys. I haven’t played with this one in a while.”
    Dane and I both clapped enthusiastically. I switched to Maverick’s seat, supposedly to have a better view of the stage, but really just to be closer to Dane.
    “What’s this all about? How does the open mic work here?”
    Dane leaned in closer than necessary to explain, lightly resting his hand on my thigh. “Maverick is an awesome musician, and when singers come in who don’t have backup, he’ll step in. I don’t think he’s ever gotten a song request he didn’t know.”
    “Wow. That’s impressive.”
    Dane smiled. “Yeah. Sure is!” After another swig of beer, he continued. “We’ve