Beat (Life on Stage 2)

“He was here last night.”

“At Lucky’s?”

She nods.

“Was he looking for me?”

“Not exactly.”

“Stop being cryptic. He came in and didn’t ask for me?”

“He wasn’t exactly in a sober state.”

“Oh.”

“Although he was definitely thinking about you.”

“How do you know?”

“Jase cut him off after the third song about Lucky was slurred pretty bad.”

“Oh.”

“There’s more.” Avery digs her cigarette pack out of her bag and jiggles it so one falls halfway out, extending the offering to me.

I shake my head. I hate smoking.

“He came in with a woman.”

“A woman?” It’s crystal clear what she’s telling me, but I make her spell it out anyway.

“She was all over him. They left together, too.”

I light that cigarette she’s still offering.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Flynn

“Want a beer?” Nolan yells from the fridge to where I’m still crashed on the couch from last night.

I pick up my cell to check the time. “Dude, it’s ten in the morning.”

I hear the bottle crack open and then footsteps shuffling toward the couch. Sensing a body near, I open one groggy eye, and instantly regret it. His junk is swinging in the wind. “Put some fucking pants on.”

He shrugs and takes a long draw from the dark-green Heineken bottle. “You know, I’ve pretty much had my bare ass on every surface in this place.”

I pull up the blanket and attempt to ignore him, but of course, that’s pretty much impossible.

“Yep. Yesterday I was sitting right about where your head is now. Scratched my balls for a while watching the Kardashians. Then let ‘em dangle to air out.”

“I’m not sure what’s more disturbing, the thought of your dirty ass sitting right where my face is, or you watching the Kardashians.”

Another long tug on his beer, followed by a rueful sigh. “That Kim has some ass. You know what I would do to that thing?”

“Can we not talk about you wanting to pound an ass while your baloney is staring me in the face, please.”

“I’m beginning to think you like baloney…seeing as how you’ve turned down every honey pot that’s come your way the last few days.”

“You’re a dick. You know that?”

“Yep,” Nolan says proudly.

“Don’t you have company to go entertain?”

“Left.”

“Couldn’t satisfy ‘em?”

“Had to leave ‘em able to walk.” He chugs the rest of his morning beer—breakfast of champions. “They’re bowlegged now, but they should be able to make it two blocks to catch the seven train.”

“In your dreams.”

“No, man, that’s the thing…I’m living the dream. Unlike your sorry ass. If you weren’t such a chick magnet, I wouldn’t even hang out with you. Seriously. You’re pathetic these days.”

“Fuck off.”

“Actually, this works out better for me. You’re like one of those cute little dogs women love. You know, the kind a man would only be walking in the park with because he’s pussy whipped. The chicks come over to pet it because it’s so fucking ugly they think it’s cute with that mop of stupid hair. But when they reach down, the little pebble-shitting canine bites her manicured hand.” He grins and nods while he continues. “And I’m right there to console the pretty little lady.”

“You’re seriously disturbing.”

“Wonder if Lucky likes puppies.”

I bolt upright. “Screw you.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?”

“Could you put some fucking clothes on!”

“Can you lighten up a little?”

“A woman I’m in love with got engaged. To someone else.” I tear the blanket off and stand, rising to my full height so we’re eye to eye. “I’m entitled to be an asshole for a couple of days.”

Nolan flaunts a shit-eating grin. “At least you admit you love her now.”

“A lot of good that will do me.”

“We all told you the other day, we don’t give a shit about opening for Easy Ryder. We get kicked off, something else will pop. Didn’t like that fucker the first time I met him anyway.”

“She’s marrying the asshole.”

“So you, what, give in?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Quit being a damn pussy and fight for her.”

I scowl at him, but he doesn’t back down. “Try not to be drunk for our three o’clock tour-planning meeting at Pulse.” I swing open his front door hard, letting it slam into the wall behind it, and don’t bother to shut the thing behind me.

I glance down at the time on my watch as I push through the glass revolving door at Pulse Records. I’m ten minutes early, and since Nolan will likely not show until half past three, I probably have another forty minutes to wait before we start the meeting.

I told myself I wasn’t going to look for her. In fact, the usual me would be late and I wouldn’t have time to even consider stalking. Yet somehow I miraculously find myself heading down the hall to the studio I know she gives her lessons in.

Three days it’s been since I last saw her.

If feels like a year.

The long hall is filled with mostly dark rooms. Until I get to the last one on the left. Bright light shines through the glass window. I’m not even sure if she’s back from the west coast. Obviously, with me gone, there’s no need for a coach any longer. Although maybe she decided to stay on the tour with her fiancé. The thought seriously causes a painful tightness in my throat.

Not wanting to be seen, I stand almost flat against the wall next to the door and lean my head forward just enough to peer in.

She’s standing in front of a woman, motioning with her hands for the student to lift up at her chest, instructing her to sing through her diaphragm. Lucky’s back is to me, but it doesn’t matter, the tightness in my chest eases just from seeing her again. I may have been fighting the words that slipped out at Nolan’s house today, but fuck if it isn’t true. My body can’t deny what it feels for her. It’s been dead for three days and suddenly, just knowing she’s on the other side of the door, it comes alive again.

But when I see her throw her head back and laugh, it feels like I got punched in the gut. She’s at work—I know from experience that she enjoys teaching—yet for some reason, it’s as though everything I thought we had must have been a lie. How can she be laughing when I’ve been walking around feeling like my dog died?

Of course, it’s at this moment that my phone, which never rings, decides to go off. I narrow my eyes at Nolan’s stupid grin flashing on the screen and swipe the call to decline. But the sound catches the attention of the student and teacher and I swiftly pull my head back against the wall. A minute later, light singing returns, so I chance one last glance and my eyes meet those of her student. Reluctantly, I head to my meeting before I get caught.

Upstairs, I’m surprised to find Nolan already in the lobby for our meeting. “It’s only three.” I stride past him and head to the reception desk. He follows me.