Tyler raised an eyebrow at her. He hopped down, trailing after her. “What’s your guess?”
Pulling her cigarettes out of the pocket of her jacket, she pushed the door open. “You’re unemployed,” she called over her shoulder. She burst into the cool air. As her feet touched concrete, she lit her cigarette. Eyelids drooping, she moved to the side and perched on the ledge jutting from the brick facade of the building.
Tyler eased past a group of people going into the bar, hands tucked into his pockets against the cold. “You were close,” he called to her.
She looked up. “Why did you follow me out here? I already told you, I’m not interested.”
He stopped several feet away from her. “I’m not trying to be a creeper. I just wanted to tell you that you were wrong.”
“Does it really matter?” She pointed her cigarette at him. “Move on with your night, find someone else to take home.” She glanced across the street at Griff’s rental car, wishing she could just hop inside of it and drive home. She couldn’t believe that she had let the guys talk her into going to a bar, of all places. There was nothing for her there. Perry and Griff could pick up dates, Max could exercise his legal drinking status, and Koty could get his urge to sing out of his system. She didn’t want to date, and neither Griff or Koty wanted her to drink. She rolled her eyes. It was almost as if the universe was setting her up for failure. Koty meant well, and had even ordered an alcohol-free beverage in solidarity with her, but no one wanted to hang out sober at a bar. She didn’t even want to.
“There’s a lot going on in there,” Tyler said, interrupting her thoughts. He tapped the side of his head.
She sighed. “How do you know? Maybe I’m just drunk.”
“If you were drunk,” he said, moving to the side as a group of smokers came out of the bar, “you would be rambling out loud. Instead, you’re glaring at me, looking like you’re miserable.”
“Whatever.” She took a long drag off her cigarette.
“I’m a writer,” he said.
She snorted. “Nice try.” She shook her head. As good as it felt to talk to someone other than her band mates for a few minutes, he was just another guy, prowling just another bar for just another hookup.
“Wanna see my card?” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket.
Despite her misgivings, she laughed. “If you have an official writer card, I’ll take it all back.”
“Does a business card count?” He opened his wallet and plucked a worn business card from one of the pockets. Holding it out to her, his gaze settled on her face.
She took it from him with her free hand. Eyes skimming over it, she read his full name, phone number, website, and tagline. “You write thrillers?” She handed the card back.
He tucked it back into its pocket. “My debut,
The Cure Program
, is climbing up the charts on Amazon. It just broke #2,000,000.” He grinned.
Jett snorted. “Congratulations.” Despite the cool night air, her skin tingled with warmth. She held Tyler’s gaze. Lifting her chin, she felt her lips curl into a smile. She tossed her cigarette into the street and stood. “Are you still down for karaoke?”
He pulled open the door to the bar, gesturing for her to go in. “After you.”
She eased past him, cheeks flushing. Rubbing her hands together, she strode into the bar. The music barreled into her ears. She glanced over her shoulder. Relief swept through her at the sight of Tyler behind her. She wove through the crowd to the table with the waiting list. Plucking the pen from the pocket of the song binder, she turned to Tyler. “What do you want to sing?”
He held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh, no,” he said, raising his voice over the girl currently on stage. “I can’t sing.”
She pointed the pen at him. “You can’t sing, you’re not drinking, and you’re not picking up girls. What the hell are you doing here?”
Ducking his head, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “If you knew, you would think I was totally lame.”
“If I’m going to sing for free, you’re singing with me, Mr. Number Two Million.” She flipped through the binder. “I’ll go easy on you.” Chuckling, she scanned through the section of artists with names that started with the letter E. Grabbing a Post-it, she scribbled down their names and the song number. Then she handed it to the karaoke DJ.
As she turned toward Tyler, the DJ held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere.” She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re next,” the DJ said. He handed her and Tyler microphones. The sound of the synthesizer filled the room, the bass booming through the speakers. “All right, we’ve got a little bit of a throwback for you, care of Jett and Tyler,” the DJ crooned into his microphone.
Closing his fingers around the microphone, Tyler shook his head at Jett. She pointed to the screen, where words began scrolling. “Sweet dreams,” she began, shoulders moving in time to the music. Tyler wrinkled his eyebrows at her, his cheeks glowing. She wiggled her fingers at him, beckoning for him to join. Despite her sore throat and diaphragm, the words flowed from her vocal chords. Her shoulders relaxed, her body vibrating with the song. A smile curled her lips. She motioned for Tyler to jump in.
Ducking his head, a grin spreading across his face, he brought his microphone to his lips. The voice that flowed out of him was a low baritone, slightly hoarse. Heat flushed his cheeks and he winced. Jett sashayed over to him, grabbing his hand. He wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. She raised her voice to a higher note, harmonizing with him. The sound that blended through the speakers streamed through the room. The crowd nodded their heads in time to the music. A group of young women danced over to Jett and Tyler.
Beaming, Jett launched into the final round of the song. She swayed closer to Tyler, the lines of their bodies brushing. Warmth rushed over her, and she linked arms with him. As the song ended, she pulled him into a bow.
“All right, give it up for Jett and Tyler!” The karaoke DJ held his hands out for their microphones. The bar erupted into applause. Jett turned to Tyler, eyes dancing. The DJ’s voiced boomed through the speakers. “Now it’s your least favorite time of the evening—last call for alcohol.”
Jett’s smile sagged, evaporating. She shook her head, unable to believe that so much time had passed so quickly. Then again, by the time she and her band mates returned to the bar, it had been well past midnight. Her chin dipped down and she sighed, her forehead touching his chest.
“Hey,” Tyler said into her hair. “Do you like bad diner coffee?”
She lifted her head. “What kind of question is that?”
“The kind of question that a guy hoping to stretch his first date with the most amazing woman he’s met in a long time asks.” He lifted his shoulders, lips flattening and eyes widening. “Was that too forward?”
“It was adorable.” She nodded toward the door. “There’s one problem, though.” Pulling the keys to Griff’s rental car from her pocket, she shook them in the air. “I’m kind of the designated driver.”
His face fell. “That definitely puts a hole in my plans for wooing and seducing you.”
“I really can’t understand why your book doesn’t sell. You have
such
a way with words.” Flashing him a wolfish grin, she turned away. She glanced around the bar, looking for her men. Frowning, she scanned the crowd again. She didn’t see any of them—not even Koty. As far as she knew, he was still sober. She turned back to Tyler. “I swear I’m not ditching you. Meet me out front in five.” Before he could answer, she trotted away, heading toward the patio.
She zigged and zagged through the crowd of people gulping down last minute drinks. A guy wearing a Sublime T-shirt sloshed beer down the arm of her leather jacket. Wrinkling her nose, she plowed past him. She felt the liquid soak into her pants.
Pushing the door, she burst out onto the patio. The alley, cordoned off from the street and the building next door with a wall, was nearly empty. Three of her men stood around a table in the corner. She hurried toward them. “Where’s Koty?” she asked Perry.
“How should I know?” He didn’t so much as glance at her. His and Griff’s eyes remained on Max, who was telling them a story that sounded like an epic saga.
Jett rose her voice, talking over him. “Perry,” she said, holding the car keys out to him. “Give these to Koty. Have him drive you home.”
He waved her away, but took the keys. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He turned back toward Max.
She skipped away. Boots clicking on the concrete, she hurried back to the door. She eased inside past a cluster of men wearing identical New England School of Law crewneck sweatshirts. As she neared the door, she saw Koty walk out of the men’s room out of the corner of her eye. Quickening her pace, she ducked past a pair of tall men, then slipped through the door.
Tyler paced the front sidewalk, his hands in his pockets.
“I hope you drove,” she said, joining him.
He grinned at the sight of her, but shook his head. “The tin can is currently out of commission. Did I mention that this diner has second rate hot soup?” He offered her his arm.
Shaking her head, she linked arms with him and let him lead the way.
Lips spread, curling, fingers combing through her hair. The early morning sun peeked through bare trees and between buildings as the T rumbled toward her stop. She gazed out the window, giddiness bubbling up in her. She glanced over at Tyler. He rested his head against the seat, eyes closed for the moment. Jett bit down on her lower lip, a giggle spilling from her throat.
His eyelids fluttered. “What’s so funny?” he murmured.
The curve of her lips deepened. Dipping her chin, she shook her head.
Tyler poked her in the ribs. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in close, nuzzling into her hair. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin and cologne—a warm, spicy mix. “It’s stupid.” Heat spread across her cheeks, but her smile remained.
“Nothing you could ever say to me would be stupid.” He pressed his forehead to hers.
“It’s just that this is so surreal.” She leaned back. Her heart flared in her chest, fireworks going off. She giggled again.
He lifted a shoulder. “You’re right.” Hugging her close, he snuggled into her. “But at the same time, it feels right.”
“Totally.” She closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation of the warmth radiating from the skin on his face to hers. She brushed her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the wild spikes. Eyelids fluttering open, she counted the freckles on his neck. She had never known anyone with so many. “I feel drunk,” she admitted, lifting her eyes to his. “Is that crazy?”
Shaking his head, he shifted his gaze to the view outside. “Not at all.” He nodded to the window as they rolled into a station. “Is this your stop?”
Jett sighed. “Yeah.” She untangled herself from him and stood. The train lurched. She leaned against the seats in front of them for balance. “You’re not gonna conveniently forget to call me, are you?”
His brow wrinkled. He climbed to his feet. “Of course not. I’ll do you one better.” He flashed her a grin. “I’ll walk you home.”
She eased past him. “That would be stupid. You’ll have to walk all the way back and ride back home.”
Shrugging, he took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “So what? It’s worth it, if I get a few extra minutes with you.”
She shook her head at him, but gripped his hand. They walked off the train together, her boots clicking on the concrete platform. Hands still intertwined, they headed toward the train station exit. A light breeze tickled her cheeks. Despite the cool temperature, the rays from the morning sun felt warm on her face.
A comfortable silence settled over them. Instead of feeling exhausted like she should after spending the entire night talking, she felt buoyed. Every step felt as if she walked on air. Her lips curled upward, her eyes dancing.
Tyler cleared his throat. “So is it too soon if I ask you what you’re doing tonight?”
Her smile deepened. Her face was going to hurt from smiling so much. “As much as I’d love to just stay in and watch a movie, we’ve got practice at Perry’s tonight.”
“Oh.” His lips twitched to the side.
“You should stop by,” she said, watching his face.
He eyed her. “Would that be okay?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m not a musician. Won’t I be in the way?” He raised his eyebrows as they entered the condo complex. “This is nice.”
Sighing, she slowed her footsteps. “And we’re here way too soon.” She stopped completely, taking both of his hands in hers. “I would love it if you hung out with us. You can tell me how bad we suck.”
“Doubtful.” He touched his nose to hers. “I saw you play last night. You were amazing.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You were there already? Why didn’t you say so?”
He grimaced slightly. “I didn’t want to sound like a weird fan boy. If I was all, ‘Hey, you rocked up there. Want to go get a coffee?’, you probably would have told me to go fuck myself.” His lips twitched downward. “I’m sorry. I probably should’ve mentioned it.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be.” For one night, she had just been Jett the woman, not Jett the musician. She tapped his nose with the pad of her finger. “Seriously, come by tonight.” Turning, she strode farther into the complex. Birds twittered in the trees. Dew sparkled in the grass. Inhaling through her nose, she drew in the scent of spring. Her lips curled into a smile again.
Tyler took two long strides, catching up with her. He looped an arm around her waist. Walking slowly, they headed toward her and Koty’s condo. As the rounded the corner of the building, she spotted Griff’s car.
Fishing her house keys out of her jacket, she led Tyler up the steps. “Their drunk asses are probably passed out.” She pressed a finger to her lips.
“Am I coming in?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“You’re not getting that lucky.” She twisted the key in the lock, then eased the door open slowly. Turning back to him, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. The stubble on his face grazed her lips. A warm chill tingled down her spine. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered.
“See you.” He lifted a hand in departure.
She slipped inside, pushing the door closed quietly behind her. Through the peep hole, she watched him stride away from the house, toward the complex exit. Lips tingling from the sensation of his skin on hers, she smiled, peeling off her jacket. As she reached out to hang it, a voice rang out.
“There she is.”
She jumped, twisting around. Koty and Griff sat at the kitchen table. Steaming mugs of coffee sat in front of them. “Jeez,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. Her heart pounded against her sternum. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, steeling her nerves.
“Where were you all night?” Koty asked.
“Why didn’t you call?” Griff crossed his arms.
“Good morning to you, too.” She yanked off her boots. Wiggling her toes, she walked across the living room, feeling as light as a dancer.
“Jett,” Griff said, his voice low.
“What?” She skirted the table, heading for the refrigerator. Her throat felt dry. She pulled open the door and squatted in front of the appliance, rooting around for a bottle of water.
Griff leaned over the door. “Were you drinking all night?”
She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Were
you
?”
He eyed her, as stern as a high school principal lecturing a mischievous student. “Jett,” he said, his tone still full of warning.
Koty leaned against the dishwasher. She stood slowly, clutching the bottle of water in her hands. It felt cool against her suddenly hot palms. She took a step back into the far end of the kitchen. “We’re just worried,” Koty said. “We tried calling you.”
Twisting the cap off, she took a sip of water. “I shut my phone off. I didn’t want anyone drunk dialing me.” She eyed them both. “What are you, my parents?”
“If you weren’t drinking,” Griff asked, closing the refrigerator door, “what were you doing?”
Eyebrows furrowed, she curled her upper lip at them. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I met someone and spent the night with him. Does that make me a criminal?”
Koty’s mouth dropped open. He stared at her, eyes wide.
Her heart raced in her throat. In the silence that followed, she chugged water. She couldn’t remember the last thing she had drank after the surprisingly decent coffee at the diner. After talking all night, her throat felt as dry as a desert. As she drank, she watched Koty’s expression change from shock to confusion to something else. His eyes flickered, but it wasn’t anger that spilled from them.
He cleared his throat, but his voice was hoarse. “Did you sleep with him?” he choked.
Jett clenched her jaw. She tightened the cap on her water bottle. Eyes narrowed, she glared at him. “That’s none of your business.”
“You were out all night,” he said, voice accusing.
She set down the bottle of water on the counter. Looking from Griff to Koty, her mind raced. Lips trembling, a hundred potential lashes crashed against each other in her mouth. He had no right to question her as if he was her husband or something. In all of the time they had been together since leaving New York, he had never actually asked any questions about her. Instead, they tiptoed around each other, focusing on the band and trying to avoid the feelings of lust that constantly dragged them back together. He had never once asked her how
she
felt, if she even wanted a relationship. No, he only harassed her about what they were, after enjoying each of their accidental slip-ups.
She wanted to hit him. Her hands curled into fists. Her chest heaved. He had no right to act so scorned or to question her actions. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He had never even acted like one. He had only treated her like a friend with benefits. Her blood boiled.
Pain slashed across his face. He stood, eyes boring into hers. He lifted an eyebrow in question.
She shook her head. She wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Letting her hands relax, she forced her arms to go limp at her sides. She wouldn’t even give him what he deserved. Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms and lifted her chin at him. She stood with her feet firm on the ground, stretching toward the Earth like roots the way her yoga instructor at the rehab center had taught her—mountain pose, the power position that kept her strong. She met Koty’s hurt gaze, and held it.
Without another word, he turned and fled from the kitchen. Snatching his keys from the table, he stormed toward the door. He yanked it open, stomped out, then slammed it behind him.
The impact shook the condo. A framed photo crashed to the floor. Jett flinched. Goosebumps broke out across her skin. Rubbing her hands along her arms, she blinked tears from her eyes. “Where is he going?” she asked, turning to Griff.
Her drummer dropped into a chair, rubbing his temples.
“What?” She put her hands on her hips. “What the hell is going on?”
Griff sighed. He hung his head, mumbling to himself.
She leaned toward him. “I can’t hear you, Whalen. What’s his deal? What the hell happened last night?”
Griff raised his head. “I could ask you the same.” He shot her a cold look.
She crossed her arms again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, Jett.” He sighed. Taking a sip from his mug, he gestured for her to sit.
Giving him a minute head shake, she hugged herself. Anxiety rippled over her. She glanced into the living room, at the pair of front windows. Griff’s car was gone. Exhaling, she leaned against the counter. “What am I missing here?” She knew that Koty thought he had a thing for her. Despite how many times they had slept together, though, they barely knew each other. He couldn’t possibly be that upset over her spending time with another guy. She swallowed hard, eyes scanning Griff’s face for a hint.
“You’ve really done it this time,” he said, setting his mug down.
Her eyes tightened. “Really?” She threw up her hands. “Am I not allowed to have a life? I just spent the past few weeks busting my ass. I go out for one night and everyone acts like the world is ending.” She curled and uncurled her fists. “I didn’t drink. I can promise you that.”
He shook his head. “It would probably be better if you
had
,” he said, his voice softening.
“What does that even mean?” She gripped the wall. The levity that had carried her through the night dissipated. Her body sagged against the counter. Seconds ticked by, punctuated by the clock on the wall. She closed her eyes, heavy with exhaustion.
“Koty has been trying to get back together with you,” Griff said finally.
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
Griff nodded. “He wanted to take you out for dinner last night, but when Anthony Ballard took the band out for Chinese, Koty switched his plans to dessert.” His eyebrows furrowed, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
“What?” she breathed. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yeah, Jett. It does.” He drummed his fingers on the table.
She scowled. “No, it doesn’t. You guys made me drive you all back to the bar, because you were all too rocked on sake to drive yourselves.” She gritted her teeth. “You made your alcoholic friend play designated driver, when all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.” She clenched her hand into a fist and brought it down on the counter. “Do you have any idea how awful I felt, sitting there by myself while you guys ordered more drinks?” Heat flushed her cheeks. Tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked them away, mascara burning. The fun from the night before drained away. She stared at Griff. “Well?”
“When you took off without saying anything,” Griff continued, as if she hadn’t said anything, “Koty got worried. Perry didn’t say anything until the bar closed, and Koty had to drive everyone home while trying to call you. But you didn’t answer.”
She closed her eyes, squeezing them hard. “I told you,” she said slowly. “I turned my phone off so I could have some peace and quiet.” She opened her eyes. “I’m not a child, and you’re not my father.”
“He wasn’t trying to be your father just now, Jett.” Griff ran a hand through his hair. “He was honestly really worried.”
“He doesn’t get to be worried!” She slashed her hand through the air. “We’re not together. There’s no us—other than an occasional wham, bam, thank you, ma’am in the kitchen!” Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “He doesn’t need to worry about me.” She wiped the hot tears away with the back of her hand. It figured that he would suddenly get emotional on her
after
she met someone. She thought of the way that Tyler had asked about her life, coming up with questions that she had to actually think about the answers to. He hadn’t tried to kiss her or get into her pants. He hadn’t even offered her a drink. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that he hadn’t even been drinking at the bar.
Griff sighed. He took a sip of coffee, then set the mug down with a heavy plunk. “Jett, why can’t you just see that Koty is in love with you?” he asked.
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Yeah.” He rose from the table. Shaking his head, eyes boring into her, he gestured toward the front door. “Koty loves you,” he rumbled.
She jumped, eyes flinching in surprise. In all of the years she had known him, Griff had never yelled at her. She held up her hands. “Easy,” she said. “I don’t know where the hell you would get an idea like that.” She forced a smile in an attempt to channel calm into him. His passion perplexed her. He had never been so adamant about her personal life—not even when she was dating Phillip in Perpetual Smile. In the heat of her relationship with Phillip, both of them had forgotten about the band, leaving Griff and the other men to take care of everything. They had often skipped practice or shown up late, hair and clothing disheveled. Even then, Griff had never yelled at her. He hadn’t even yelled at her during her heaviest drinking days, or during the intervention. Maybe, she surmised, he was still drunk.