That Blue Gibson

CH 85

Happy Birthday to you...

Happy Birthday to you...

Liz sunk into Nate's side and blushed fiercely as the crowd at La Féline drunkenly sang to her, led by the band on stage that now included Taylor and Dave. They had been spotted by the lead singer and asked to come jam, and though Dave had only promised a couple songs, he got carried away by playing in such a small venue to a crowd that he could actually interact with.

He leaned into the microphone and looked out towards Liz, "You got any requests, birthday girl?"

"Lumberjack!" she yelled back, making everyone at their table laugh loudly. 

He heard Taylor bark a laugh from the kit behind him then swing the mic to his face. "By Jackyl?"

Liz nodded eagerly and Dave tried his hardest to hold her stare, but out of the literally millions of songs in existence, she chose the one with a fucking chainsaw solo. Taylor's giggle broke him and it was all he could do to play the first few notes of It's Late, knowing she'd love that one just as much. 

Once they finally left the stage, he slid into the booth next to her and furrowed his brow when she winced. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Just a little sore." A wave of guilt hit him when her forced smile gave away that she was grimacing. He had been so rough with her the night before and though she insisted that she loved every moment of it, he felt awful about taking his frustrations out on her. After she had fallen asleep he had snuck out to the terrace to smoke and overthink his life, dwelling on how bizarre it felt to be in the same hotel with Jordyn, but in very separate spaces. When he crawled back into bed with Elizabeth, he spied the dark blue stain blossoming across her hipbones and shoved back the covers to get a better look.

"Fuck," he swore and traced the outline of her bruise with his finger. 

"What?... what's the matter?" she slurred in her sleep.

"Nothing, baby," he covered her back up and lay beside her, stroking her back to lull her into a deep sleep, but the moment he was sure she was out he wept into her hair for the second time in 24 hours. 

That morning, Liz had dragged Josie and Rami up to the hotel room under the guise of picking out a birthday outfit, but when Josie darted into the bathroom with her makeup bag Dave knew Liz had asked her help in covering it up. As he and Rami sat on the terrace drinking coffee, he contemplated why she felt the need to hide it. He needed to apologize, but he sure as hell couldn't do it now, not with all the work she was putting in to cover his tracks. But, it was obvious she was taking steps in ensuring he wouldn't feel badly about the night before, especially considering the headspace he was in at the time and he bit back the snide comment he had ready when she emerged wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt instead of some creation of her stylist. 

"Wooo!" Josie's scream yanked him out of his thoughts. "It's your birthday, Liz! You shouldn't walk right for a week! Right, Dave?" 

Liz laughed and clinked her whiskey glass against her friend's while Dave rolled his eyes and struck up a conversation with Nate. The group at their table consisted of the band and some tour crew along with their girlfriends or wives, mostly enticed by the idea of live music and booze but also feeling a little obligated to join the party for their boss's girlfriend. 

Though they were in two separate conversations and faced away from each other, his arm was still around her waist and her hand was settled on his thigh with her little finger drawing circles on the fabric on his jeans. Eventually, the flash of Liz checking her phone every few minutes under the table between them became distracting. "Are you waiting for a text?"