“WHY ARE WE AT Malo Bar?” I ask when Nick escorts me to a high top table by the bar.

“Do you remember when this used to be Dexter’s?” he asks, flagging down a waitress.

“I do.”

“This is where I booked my first gig.”

“I remember. I think I sat here and watched.”

His eyes return to mine, searching them almost. “You did.”

The waitress makes her way to our table and takes our orders: Old Milwaukee tallboy for Nick, Moscow Mule for me.

“This is where it all started.” His gaze flicks to the empty stage where some roadies are setting up for tonight’s show. The sign out front said the Flying Possums were playing tonight, but I’ve never heard of them. Nick was always my “in” with the indie music scene, and after I went away to college, my supply of Nick’s famous mixed CDs quickly dwindled. “You were the reason—the only reason—I had the balls to get up here that night.” His mouth lifts at one side as he watches the guys set up, and it’s almost like he’s replaying his memories in real-time.

Our server returns with two sweaty drinks and a small stack of cocktail napkins.

My drink is weak.

Nick is rambling.

And I can’t stop wondering what Sutter’s doing right now … and what he thought when he came home to the remnants of Nick’s haphazardly orchestrated show of emotion.

“You’re the reason I never quit guitar,” he continues. “You had the biggest fucking crush on John Mayer.”

I laugh. “I did, didn’t I? Totally forgot about that.”

“I wanted to impress you. I wanted to play John Mayer songs better than John Mayer could.”

“How did I not know this?” I take a sip and then trace my fingertips around the thin metal rim of my copper mug.

“You’re also the reason I studied my ass off for chemistry.” He shakes his head. “God, I hated chemistry, but I was crazy about you. We were lab partners, remember? And I didn’t want you to think I was some dumbass slacker making you do all the work.”

I remember now.

Junior year.

Organic Chemistry I.

“I remember being blown away by how well you knew the material,” I say. “And thinking it was kind of cool when you’d correct Mr. Keller in front of the whole class.”

“Pretty sure that’s the only class I ever aced.” Nick reaches for his beer, and I spot his knee bouncing. “They made me take the final twice, remember? Mr. Keller swore I was cheating.”

I reach my hand under the table, fingertips grazing the top of his knee in an attempt to stop his frenetic energy from traveling any further.

“I’m not used to you being so … wound up,” I say. “At least, not around me.”

“It’s different now,” he says.

I slide my fingers into the copper mug’s handle. “What are you talking about?”

“You know … because things are different between us.”

“Different how?” My shoulders tighten.

“I assume we’re going to … I don’t know … try to figure this out?”

I sit my mug aside and rest my head in my hands, blowing out a swift breath.

I love Nick.

He’s my best friend.

But I don’t love Nick.

And I don’t want to “figure this out.”

“I’ve known you since I was a kid,” I say. “You were my first and only childhood crush. When you dated my friends or dated the pretty girls at school, it damn near killed me. And now? Now you come at me with this?”

“Mel ...”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me? Why didn’t you say something when you had the chance?”

“Don’t get mad at adult me for the decisions teenage me made a lifetime ago.”

“I’m not mad at you … adult you or teenage you. I’m trying to make sense of this,” I say.

“This is going to sound cliché as fuck,” he says, “but being on the road gives a man a lot of time to think. Too much time really. We met this guy, this meditation guru weirdo guy, who tagged along with us for about a week during the Pennsylvania leg, and he opened my eyes to a lot of things. I’ve spent the last month asking myself the deep questions, you know? How did I get here? How did I get so damn lucky? What’s this all for? What good can come from this? What matters most in this world to me?”

The tables and seats around us begin to fill. A couple of guys are tuning guitars on the stage. You can feel the livewire excitement in the air, like an electric charge.

“Melrose.” Nick reaches across the table, his hand on my hand. “You were the answer to all of them.”