Beat (Life on Stage 2)

“I sang at Lucky’s?”

She nods.

“Do you remember what I sang?”

A few things. “An old Tom Petty song, a Springsteen song and a Dave Matthews one I never heard of.”

I don’t have to ask the songs. “You Got Lucky,” “My Lucky Day” and “So Damn Lucky.”

“Did we…?” I motion between us.

“Nope. Not for my lack of trying either.” Her cheeks pink up. “You weren’t interested.”

“I’m sorry…it’s not you…I…”

She holds up a hand, motioning for me to stop. “It’s okay. You told me all about her.”

“I did?”

She nods.

“She’s a lucky woman. You were a perfect gentleman, even in your state. I slept on your sister’s couch because I was worried about you getting home, but then you didn’t want me traveling by myself at night.”

“Well, thank you.”

She takes the phone I’m holding in my hand, punches a bunch of buttons and offers it back to me with a sweet smile before turning to leave. “In case you ever want help getting over her.”

Walking back into my sister’s apartment, I look down at the name she’s typed into contacts. “Zoe.” I was close.

A long shower, even longer nap and a half gallon of water later, I feel halfway normal. Becca’s getting dinner ready. “Sorry about bringing Zoe here last night.” My sister’s never laid down any house rules, I just don’t want Laney to get the wrong impression.

“I’m pretty sure she brought you home, not the other way around.”

“Yeah. Guess I got carried away with myself.”

“I thought you were going to be gone a few weeks more.”

I rub a hand over the three days of stubble on my chin. “So did I.”

“I saw Lucky on the news last night. That have anything to do with it?” she asks cautiously.

“I did something I’m not proud of.”

“You fell in love. I saw that when I was there.”

“Yeah. That still doesn’t make it right.”

“Neither of you were married. Don’t compare yourself to him. I know what you’re doing.”

“Thanks. But looks like that’s about to change.”

“I saw the picture in this morning’s paper. I don’t care what the news prints, that woman’s as in love with you as you are with her. Did you speak to her yet?”

“Douchebag Dylan threatened to get her fired from her new job if I spoke to her.”

“Douchebag Dylan? Is he related to Professor Douchebag?” Becca bumps her shoulder into mine.

“They’re like long-lost brothers.”

“You need to talk to her. Something isn’t right.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Lucky

Music has always been the medicine to cure all of my ills. But these days, it’s also the source of much of my anxiety. The cab line stretches almost a full city block in length outside of JFK; Pandora blasts through my headphones as I attempt to occupy my spinning mind with a soothing melody. But of course, the song that comes on would have to be an Easy Ryder song.

Things didn’t go exactly as planned. After Dylan’s proposal in the restaurant, and my not-exactly-yes-or-no hug, half the restaurant, it seemed, came over to congratulate us. I didn’t want to embarrass Dylan in public and say no while phone cameras were clicking and rolling, but it made clarifying that I hadn’t said yes that much more difficult. Especially when he pulled me in for a deep kiss and ordered a bottle of Cristal for every table in the restaurant, to celebrate.

It wasn’t until we went back to the hotel and were in the privacy of our room that I had the chance to set things straight. Needless to say, Dylan did not take it very well. Barely two hours after his loving proposal, the man who was prepared to spend the rest of his life with me was threatening my job. And worst of all, Flynn’s music career.

I hopped the first available flight the next day and spent six hours deliberating what to do about Flynn. If there is one thing I’m certain about as I walk away from Dylan Ryder, it’s that his threat to destroy Flynn was not idle. For some reason, he’s had it out for the man before he even learned that I had feelings for Flynn Beckham. I’m thankful he doesn’t know the half of it.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Avery wipes down the top of the bar. It’s early; only a few college students from down the street are in Lucky’s.

I glance around the bar with intentional exaggeration. “What did you do with all my patrons?”

She throws the wet towel she’s using to clean the counter at my face. “Nice response to my texts.”

“Sorry, it’s been a crazy few days. Just got in last night.”

“And you were too busy to send a one-line text?”

“I didn’t know what to say. Where to start.”

She leans over the bar. “How about starting with Hey, I’m marrying one rockstar and fucking another.”

Well, that certainly caught the attention of the few people sitting within earshot. I shake my head and walk behind the bar, wrapping my arms around my best friend for a much-needed hug. “God, I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” I sigh.

“Two men and a hot babe like me? You’re a nymph. You might need therapy,” she teases.

“I definitely do. The Avery Logan kind. Can Jase cover the bar for a while?”

“I always knew Ryder was a sleazeball.” Avery and I are in the alley behind Lucky’s, camped out on milk crates as she smokes her daily I don’t smoke anymore cigarette.

“Umm. I think in this case, you have it reversed. I’m the sleazeball.”

“Well, yeah. That too.” She grins. “But he’s going to try to ruin your career and Flynn’s to get even. Besides, I’d bet your half of the bar he cheated on you.”

“How is that a bet…you’re betting my half of the bar?”

“If I learned something since you were gone, it’s that I do not want to own this thing without you.”

“You missed my sleazeball self, didn’t you?”

“It does kinda suck without you here to boss me around.”

We laugh. God, I missed her. Missed this place. Even the back alley that smells like month-old stale beer mixed with cigarette butts. It may not have a white picket fence around it, but this place is my home.

“You need to tell Flynn what’s going on.”

“How can I? Dylan will definitely kick In Like Flynn off the tour if we’re together now.”

“Shots of Dylan down on one knee and you hugging him have been all over the news. Flynn thinks you’re engaged, Lucky. You need to tell him the truth.”

“I don’t know. What if his decision is to be with me anyway and Dylan makes good on his threat? He’ll lose the tour…and who knows what else.”

“It’s his decision to make.”

“Honestly, I can’t imagine he believes I would say yes to Dylan’s proposal anyway, after the last month.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

I squint. “What are you not telling me?”