As Nick clicked open the driver side door, he tried to figure out what had caused the throbbing headache, which was getting worse by the second.

It came out of nowhere, right after Jackson had asked him about the name of the band he’d supposedly mentioned before.

Nick hardly ever got headaches. The only reason he had Advil in the glove compartment was the wrist he’d twisted during surfing a couple of months ago.

The headache had something to do with Jackson, he was almost sure of that. The guy had been looking into his eyes so intently that if Nick hadn't known better, he would’ve thought that Jackson had been coming on to him.

What the hell had the guy done? Had he tried to pull some hypnotist crap on him?

And what was that about a band?

That bothered Nick even more than the headache. In fact, he had a feeling it was the reason for it. He was still straining his brain, trying to bring the elusive memory up. But the more he struggled the worse the headache got.

He remembered talking about Jackson's band. But that couldn’t have been what the guy had been asking about. He’d said that band, not my band. And then Roni said ‘cover’ and stopped as if someone had kicked him under the table.

Were they all playing a prank on him?

A couple of pills in hand, he got back inside and looked at Jackson.

The guy always looked kind of smug, but he definitely looked smugger now.

“Okay, out with it.” Nick waved his hand. “What did you do?”

“Who, me?” Jackson pretended innocence, looking at Roni and then Sylvia and finally at Ruth, then back to Nick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

By the guilty looks on everyone’s faces, they were all in on it.

Assholes.

He didn’t care that the others were playing a prank on him, but it bugged him that Ruth had agreed to take part in it.

He and Ruth were a team, and partners were supposed to watch each other's backs.

“Time for dessert!” Ruth chimed and pushed to her feet.

There was definitely a guilty undertone to her fake excitement.

Sylvia jumped up after her sister. “I’ll clear the table.”

“Let me help,” Jackson said.

Nick sat down, filled a glass with water, popped the pills into his mouth, and washed them down with a long gulp.

The only ones at the table with him were Tessa and Roni. Tessa got busy brushing crumbs into a napkin, and Roni whipped out his phone and was pretending to read something. Or maybe he was really reading, who gave a fuck.

Nick was pissed.

He was disappointed with Ruth and his head felt like it was inflating and deflating with every heartbeat.

What band?

He remembered them talking about Jackson's band and about the song Roni had written but wasn’t happy with. He also remembered offering to join their band.

Then Jackson had asked him something, but he couldn’t remember what it was. In fact, he didn’t remember any of the conversation from that point on until Jackson had asked him about a name of a band.

Ignoring the headache, Nick pushed harder. He had to remember the rest of it. If Jackson had hypnotized him as a prank, he was going to prove to the jerk that Nick was a much tougher nut to crack than Jackson had given him credit for. He was going to break through that barrier and remember what the hell they had been talking about.

Ruth came back with a loaded tray. “I have fruit bowls for the health conscientious, and a chocolate cake for those who are not.”

Jackson followed with a coffee carafe, and Sylvia with another tray of mugs.

“Coffee, anyone?” she asked.

“I’ll have some,” Nick said. “And the fruit bowl and the chocolate cake.”

He wasn’t hungry or in the mood for sweets, but he was mad and didn’t want the bunch of jerks to notice. He was going to play it cool until that memory resurfaced and he would prove to them that he wasn’t an easy target.

Play it cool. Play it cool. Something about this sentence tickled his memory.

Play it cool. Band. Cover. All of these were trigger words. How about changing the order. Play it cool cover band.

Cool cover band.

It felt like a dam bursting inside his head, with all the missing memories rushing in to fill the void. And just like that the headache was gone.

Nick leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked. “Brit Floyd. That was the name of the cover band I was talking about.”

Ruth gasped, Jackson paused with the coffee carafe suspended in midair over Tessa’s cup, Roni looked down at his cake, and Sylvia looked sad.

What the hell? Why were they taking this so hard?

So their prank hadn’t worked, so what?

“Don’t look so glum, people. It’s not a big deal that I’m on to you. What was that? An attempt at hypnotism?”

Jackson was the first one to recover. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m taking an online course and I made a bet with the others. I won and they lost. That’s why they look so heartbroken.” He smiled at the others. “Pay up, people. You each owe me a dollar.”

Nick cast Ruth an accusing glance. “You bet against me?”

She forced a smile. “I just did it to encourage Jackson. He didn’t believe he could do it with so little training. Apparently, he was right.”

Well, that put everything in a different perspective. Nick was all for helping out a friend. But they should have told him instead of using him like a patsy. He would’ve volunteered.

“Don’t give it up, man. You’re pretty good. It took a mighty effort to pierce through the block you put in my head. Next time, though, you should ask first. It’s not cool to hypnotize someone without his or her permission. You can get in a lot of trouble doing something like that to some unsuspecting dude, or worse, a dudette. You can get sued.”

Jackson nodded. “You’re absolutely right. It was stupid of me. Are you up for another round?”

“No way. You’ve given me one hell of a headache. I’m not up for another go. Maybe next time, or try Roni. Eh?” Nick looked at Sylvia’s boyfriend. “How about it, dude? Are you willing to get hypnotized?”

Roni grimaced. “Not really.”

“Wuss.”

Roni shrugged. “See if I care.” He pointed a finger at his head. “This baby is all I have. That’s what pays the bills. I’m not jeopardizing it by letting an amateur in there.”

He had a point. Nick was in a similar situation, depending on his smarts for his job, and therefore shouldn’t allow it either.

Except, he’d already committed himself and couldn’t back off. But he could put up conditions.

“Roni is right, Jackson. So until you get your certificate as a licensed hypnotist you’re not getting anywhere near my brain, is that clear?”

Jackson grimaced. “Crystal.”