My Felicity.

So much the same, and so very different all at once. Huge dark eyes pulled at pieces inside of me that had long been buried—drowning in emotions I didn’t want to face. To be honest, I didn’t want to face much of anything these days.

I didn’t even remember driving this way. It wasn’t like Pat’s had been my hangout even when I’d lived in Baltimore. But it was hers. Had always been hers.

And yet I’d been drawn to the bar.

Drawn back to her like a damn compass.

Even with my head still full of the faces of my band members when I’d told them I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stand on that stage and pretend.

There’d been no fights.

No screams.

No real surprise to be honest. More like resignation and relief in their eyes.

They’d known even before I did, which was the worst part. I’d been so miserable even my band hadn’t fought for me to stay.

So I went back to where I’d always belonged. With this girl who had always been my touchstone. With her dark chocolate-brown eyes and ribbons of matching hair that never seemed to be under control no matter how many pins and braids Fee twisted them into.

Felicity Hudson, my best friend and soul mate.

I might sound like a pussy saying that, but it was true. It was one of the few things I knew for sure.

“Always.” I cleared my throat. “Never changed.”

“Could have fooled me.” She lifted her tray and brushed by me, the familiar scent of wildflowers trailing in her wake.

I sighed and followed. I’d known going into this it wasn’t going to be easy, but she was worth the effort. “Fee.”

“Don’t ‘Fee’ me. No one calls me that.” Her voice was a furious whisper. The one she used to use in class when I was bored and bugging her.

Or at the library.

Or during our scary movie-thons.

“Since when?”

She ignored me as she went to a table full of young guys who thought khaki was the new black. Newsflash, it was not.

She smiled down at a guy with a banker’s haircut and polo shirt. “Hey, Kevin. Sorry it took me so long.” She set down a beer in front of him and another Ken-doll prototype who was cut from the same mold. “Here you go. Anything else I can get you? Pub fries? Nachos?”

Kevin looked over her shoulder at me. “This guy bothering you, Felicity?”

I raised one brow. “What are you going to do?”

Kevin pushed out his chair. Felicity laid a hand on his shoulder. “He’s an old college friend, not a big deal.”

I nearly winced. College friend? Is that where I was slated now?

The dude slid his gaze from her to me and then back to Felicity. “If you’re sure.”

“Not worth the bruised knuckles.” She leaned down and brushed her cheek against Plastic Man. “Appreciate it though.”

The guy’s expression glazed and his damn eyes went right for her tits. That was it. I was going to kill him.

She spun around and slammed her tray into my belly. I expected her to drop it on my foot, but she took it back. “He was just leaving. I have nothing to say to you.” And she flounced.

For fuck’s sake, when did she start doing that?

I shoved a chair out of my way and navigated my way through the crush of tables. Of course she went faster because of her muscle memory and daily habit or whatever. I swore when she kicked out a chair then disappeared under the bar pass through.

“Fee. Is that any way to treat your best friend?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see my best friend. I see a guy who used to be my best friend. But then he went off and joined the circus—I mean, band. And never came back.” She slapped her tray down before sauntering through the doors to the back kitchen.

“Dammit.” Evidently, this was going to be way harder than I thought.

Tristan gave me a hard stare. “Are we going to have a problem?”

“No, man. Just have to grovel a bit. You’ve been there right?”

He just grunted, pulled a beer, and set it down on the bar in front of me. “The minute she tells me to toss your ass out of here, you go.”

I took it gratefully. “Deal.” I pointed to a booth. “Mind?”

“Go for it.”

I took a grateful sip of what had to be a house microbrew and settled in to figure out my next move.

I was back. The comfort of the streets I’d known all my life gave me the first bit of breathing room I’d had in months.

Mistakes and my foolish pride were as abundant as the book of half-finished lyrics I couldn’t quite face.

I’d sung her song tonight because I needed a win. Because it was the only song that had come together in the last few years. I’d forced the notes to boom and dance through the room to prove I could.

And now they echoed between us like sour notes on a piano out of tune.

Felicity fair.

Felicity mine.

She just didn’t know it yet.

I was here to prove to her that we were more than friends. More than almost lovers.

She was my muse—always had been. It had taken a year away from her to know it was true. She’d always been the other half of me.

Not just the platonic other half. Best friends had been a good enough label when I’d been too afraid to face the rest. She’d never quite fit in that slot, no matter how much we both tried.

“When did you get into town?”

My system jolted when she appeared beside me. I’d spaced out again. It was a running theme in my damn life. I forced myself to take a slow sip of beer before replying. “How long since I sang and now?”

“Don’t be a wiseass.”

I put my glass down and held up my hands. “I’m not. I literally parked my truck outside and came in here.”

“Why?”

“To see you.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “Why now? Why today?”

I crossed my arms and leaned back in the booth. “Didn’t realize Wednesday was a special day.”

Her gaze dropped to my arms before bouncing back up to my face. “And that’s all?”

“I needed to see you.”

She frowned and her face softened for a moment. The momentarily unguarded girl standing in front of me was the same one I’d kissed that night. And I had to fight the urge not to drag her down to me again. “Needed? Is something wrong?”

I’m lost without you. Yeah, not saying that one out loud. Even I had a few pieces of pride left. “I messed up, Fee. It’s been too long. I just want to talk.”

“I’m working.”

Not to be deterred, I pushed again. “Pretty sure you get a dinner break. It’s the law and all that.”

She mirrored my folded arms. “Doesn’t mean I want to have dinner with you.”

Ouch. “I missed you. Have for a long damn time, Fee.”

She huffed out a breath. “The dinner rush is usually down to a dull roar around eight.”

“Perfect.” I tried not to look at my phone to see how long that would be. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be quick. Time was relative these days.

She set down her tray then jammed her hands into her apron. That didn’t help my current situation. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d missed her. In so many damn ways. It didn’t matter how long it had been since we’d spent time together.

Then there was the one night I’d caught a glimpse of her without her knowing.

That had been the last time I’d seen her.

On a snowy night in February, she’d worn a tight red sweater and jet-black skirt with her typical black tights. Waitress gear with a Valentine’s bit of flair.

She hadn’t known I was there.

I’d had it in my head to come in here and sweep her off her feet and tell her right then and there I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was soon after the single had dropped.

But then a guy had swung her up into his arms and dropped a kiss on her candy-cane-red lips. She’d laughed up at him and sifted her long fingers through his perfect Ken-doll sandy-colored hair. Much like Kevin she’d kissed tonight, for fuck’s sake.

My fists bunched under my arms. I didn’t know him, but I recognized the look in the guy’s eyes. He was right there and present for her.

Everything I couldn’t be. I’d waited too long.

Too late.

The story of my life. Always too late when it came to Felicity Hudson.

I frowned down at her. “Unless you have someone who’s taking you to dinner?”

She averted her gaze. “No.”

“No boyfriend?”

She retrieved her tray. “Not this week.”

I snagged her arm, the soft skin warm and infinitely touchable. “This week?”

She stilled at my touch and quickly moved out of my space. “You don’t have the right to ask anyway, Myles.” And with that, she melted back into the sea of people crowding the bar.

No, I guess I didn’t. I raked my fingers through my hair. It was too fucking long, but whenever I remembered to make the time to get it cut, it was usually well past the hours of operation for a salon. What had once been a stubby tail was now a full-fledged man-bun half the time.

A man-bun that my bandmates had made fun of me for more than once.

Once upon a time.

I let my dark hair fall forward as I slouched down in my seat and twisted my beer in the small puddle of condensation that had formed. The bar roared out a series of groans and cheers. Game night, and Baltimore was nothing if not loyal to their sports teams.

I glanced up at one of the screens. I only knew the difference between jerseys because of Felicity’s love of Syracuse University, much to the chagrin of all the familiar faces in the bar.

With her gone, I checked my phone. I had a few hours to kill. My booth was smack in the center of her section. And boy, did she did ignore me as she bustled around to tables adjacent to mine.

I leaned back in the unforgiving wood bench-style seat and crossed my feet at the ankles. I was nothing if not patient these days. I didn’t have any plans. At least not until my phone meeting with my realtor the next day.

For now, I was more than willing to watch Felicity in her natural habitat. I soaked up her wide smile and easy laugh as she talked to regulars. Enjoyed checking out the long, toned legs that gave me way too many ideas about how perfectly we’d fit together. Considering the last time a woman even made my dick sit up and take notice, it was a sudden and painful reminder of my very long drought.

When another hour passed, I deliberately put my glass on the edge of the table. Obvious signal for a refill. She walked by me no less than four times without so much as a glance in my direction. That was Felicity—stubborn and more than capable of ignoring me no matter what I did to her.

We would just see about that.

As the dinner rush wore on and the cocktails flowed, I finally had to flag down another waitress to get a beer. The pretty blond tripped over her own feet when she got a good look at me.

“Shit,” I said under my breath.

The girl grinned and winked. “Our little secret.”

Relieved, I smiled back. “Whatever IPA you have on draft would be great.”

“You got it.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder as she headed to the bar. When I looked away from her, I caught Felicity’s glance in my direction. And the nostril flare that she would be pissed to know I’d caught.

Not so cool about me sitting all alone if someone was actually paying attention to me.

All hope wasn’t lost.

The blond was back, leaning over a little too much for setting a beer on the table in front of me. Was her shirt lower since the last time she’d been by? There was also just enough foam to show it was a nice new pull, but not enough to say she was a novice.

“Let me know if you need anything else. It’s Felicity’s last night. Only reason she’d leave you hanging over here. Everyone wants to talk to her.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it myself. She’s been a staple of Pat’s for as long as I can remember.”

My gaze shot to Felicity. Her smile was back and she was laughing at whatever the idiot jock was saying to her. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she leaned down for a kiss to his cheek.

I didn’t realize my fingers had clenched around my beer until the foam started vibrating. “New job?”

The girl opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly frowned. “Something like that.”

I followed her gaze and bit back a laugh at the stink-eye Fee was throwing at her. All righty then. I lifted the glass to my mouth. “Thanks for the info…”

“Bree.”

“Bree.” I took a sip and my smile widened. If I had to sit here, at least the beer was good. “Don’t go too far, Bree. I’m going to need another of these.”

“You got it.”

The night wore on. I caved and ordered a basket of onion rings. It was a safe bet kissing Felicity wouldn’t be on the menu for a bit. At least based on the daggers I was getting each time she thought I wasn’t looking.

I didn’t want her to forget I was there.

No chance of that, since people kept peeking into the corner to check me out. I’d been flying under the radar since singing earlier. I’d retrieved a long-sleeved button down shirt from my truck which hid my distinctive tattoos. Between that and tucking my hair back into a ponytail, I’d killed most of the rockstar look. My stage persona was fairly ingrained at this point. Sleeveless shirts and black jeans with the wild black curls I couldn’t quite control were all my trademark.

Felicity and I would have beautiful babies with curly hair.

Where had that come from? Maybe I needed to slow down with the beer. I pushed away the third glass and pulled the rings closer.

The fact that I didn’t mind the idea was a little worse.

They’d be damn pretty babies.

My gaze slid to the clock above the jukebox. Ten minutes and Felicity wouldn’t be able to ignore me any longer.