APPROXIMATELY TWENTY-TWO YEARS EARLIER
RYDER
The raspy sound coming out of me happened every time I played in a smoky bar. My lungs gasped for filtered oxygen. It’s part of the price musicians pay to make it in this fucking industry. Since none of us had seen twenty-one yet, chilling after our set here seemed like a dumbass idea.
We did it to hang with our growing fan base and network with anyone who listened and might work to promote the band. I made it seem like a chore when the truth was, we loved talking to the people. They fed our need and helped us continue this slow climb. None of us had developed egos like a mega-band might have. For now, we loved hearing from our listeners. We loved knowing they supported us by showing up and buying our music.
Tonight was different, though.
Tonight, I sat at the scarred wooden bar alone.
Tonight, I lingered while the other band members did the dance for us.
Tonight, I tried to wrap my head around what happened a year ago today.
I wasn’t one to celebrate anniversaries. Hell, I couldn’t tell you the month my parents got married much less the date, but this date holds a fold in my memory.
Today’s date was different.
Today’s date will always stick with me.
One year ago today marked the last time my eyes took in Laina’s gorgeous face, kissed her perfect lips, or heard her lilting voice. She disappeared one year ago today. She walked out of my life with the biggest question hanging over our heads we’ll ever need an answer to.
Were we going to be parents? Was a baby in the plan? Were we ready to take on such a huge responsibility as teens straight out of high school? Dammit, if only she were here now to explain where she disappeared to and why.
“Fuck.” I lay my head down on my folded arms. “I need a beer.”
“I think I can make that happen.”
An unfamiliar female voice caused me to raise my head. “Oh, sorry. I was talking to myself.”
“Yeah, I do that too, sometimes. Just stop when you start answering your own questions. Makes you look psycho.” I stared at the smoking smoking-hot blonde’s perfect white smile. Catching the attention of the bartender, she called out, “Two Coors Lights, please.”
“Hell, they won’t serve me. They already know I’m not old enough to drink. They only hire us to entertain the customers.” What a bitch move that was, especially today.
“They’ll serve me, and who says I’m not one for double fisting my beer?” Her face lit up again. “Let it sit between us like I’m lining them up. It’ll be fine. The bartender’s a friend of mine anyway. Honestly, they should let you guys drink if they let you perform.”
“That’s the truth, but the TABC doesn’t see it that way. Those fuckers get hard issuing tickets and pulling permits.” Cardboard coasters landed on the bar top before the brunette behind it set the bottles down. My mind said grab it, but not wanting to show my intent, I let the cold glass sit while the two females exchanged looks.
“Thanks, girl. I owe you.” The blonde gave the bartender a wink.
“Just don’t let his dumbass get drunk.”
A bewildered noise left my lips before I could stop it. “Yeah, right. On one damn beer? Doubtful.” Sheesh, she knew it wasn’t my first.
Her charcoal eyes glanced over the bar top and shook her head before making her way down to the other customers waving Benjamins in her direction.
The frosty bottle called my name, so I snagged it up and looked at the buyer. “Thank you.” I tipped the bottle to hers and clinked. “Salud.” I took a healthy guzzle instead of sucking down the contents like I wanted to do. By nineteen, I’d chugged my share of beer—one bottle was a sip.
“So, Mr. Musician, I enjoyed the band’s show. How long have you guys been playing together?”
“Seems like fucking forever. We’re playing here in Austin for our local fans for the next few nights. Been on tour most of this year opening for some big names, but we like to keep our Austin people happy. Hell, we owe them. They gave us our start.”
“Forever’s a long time.”
“Sure as hell is.” I looked at her and briefly raised the ends of my lips. I knew this woman’s beauty captured attention wherever she went. Her look said older than me but not a cougar by any means. The long legs in the skin-tight black jeans looked damn good. The flesh peeking through the rips teased me. Her spike-heeled short boots made her legs go on forever. Just right for fitting perfectly around my waist while I took her hard and fast against a wall backstage.
Shit, who was I kidding? The last thing I wanted to think about was fucking another woman tonight. I didn’t deserve another woman when the only one I wanted was God knows where.
Wrapping both hands around the bottle, I hung my head. I needed to get the fuck out of here and go home to wallow. Why should everyone else be miserable because I was? Yet, here I sat, with a gorgeous woman buying me a drink, pining away for someone I’d never have again.
“So, you’ve been on tour. Who’d you tour with? Anyone I’d recognize?”
I looked at her wondering what she listened to trying to decide if she would possibly know any of the bands. “We started out playing in dives all over, anywhere we could book a gig. Then we got noticed when we played some dump in Nashville and were invited to be the opening act for No Need.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of them. They’ve played here in Austin before. I saw them at Antone’s. Great show.” She held the bottle with three fingers and poked out her pinkie like she drank from a fucking teacup. Watching her tip the bottle that way caused me give a little laugh.
“What?” She put the bottle down. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Uh… hell no. Why would I laugh at you? You bought me a beer. You gave me a reason to smile on a shit night. You’re beautiful. What reason would I have to laugh?” Damn, I’m good at covering up for my douchiness.
Her hard stare cut right through me. “Well, I don’t know about all that, but I could’ve sworn I heard you laugh.” Her eyes continued to study me. “You know you look a lot better smiling than when you’re sulking.”
“Sulking, huh?” She had it all wrong.
She took another drink, little finger out. “Uh-huh. What’s got you looking like you lost your best friend? From where I’m sitting, seems as though you’re living the musician’s dream.” She glanced back at the stage. “You got yourself a good band, and you’re coming off a successful tour. It sounds like you’re doing all right to me.”
I looked back over my shoulder and watched the rest of the band making their rounds in the audience, shaking hands and signing a few large racks here and there. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should be grateful.”
“Obviously, something’s still not right for you tonight.”
I emptied the beer and slid the bottle over to the far edge in front of her. “Nope, it’s still not right. Guess you could say I lost my best friend, a year ago today.”
I rolled around on the stool and put my elbows on the bar top. I needed to leave before I became the quintessential fuck crying in my beer at a bar. “Hey, I’m going to take off. Thanks for the beer. We’re playing again tomorrow night at Stubbs. I’ll leave you a ticket at Will Call if you want to come hear us play again.”
She tipped her bottle in my direction. “I just might do that. Hadn’t been down there in a while to listen to a band.”
Before I could say anything else, she moved back to face the bar. Guess that was my cue to leave. I knew she’d never show up, but I’d leave a ticket just in case I got it wrong.