We Have Till Dawn

“Quit it.” Anthony ripped the phone from me and pocketed it. “He’s happily married to another chef. I follow him too. He’s funny. Drops more curses than ingredients in his tutorials.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m glad you’re going, though. You need a vacation. And if you happen to learn how to cook pasta…that’s just an awesome bonus.”

He let out a laugh and finished his beer.

I chugged a little too.

Since we were already on the Nashville topic, I mentioned our set list and that we had to sit down soon and hammer out the details. Marco, our regular bass player, had already backed out, so we’d asked Chris to join us, and he was all for it. He needed a break from work too. And frankly, I was relieved. Marco was great for smaller gigs and especially if the church was involved, but we were hoping to push for more rock n’ roll at this festival, and that was where Chris was better.

Anthony told me that he’d go through our recordings too. That way, we’d be able to sell a demo or two at the event, along with some merch. By using a few songs we’d already recorded, we wouldn’t have to waste a bunch of dough recording new material. It would be a while before our new studio at the academy was ready, so we’d like to rent as little studio time elsewhere as possible.

Then my brother insisted on steering the conversation back to Gideon by suggesting that maybe he’d come with us to Nashville.

“That’s a big maybe,” I muttered against the bottle. Fuck, empty. Peering at the six-pack I’d brought, I wondered how there were only two bottles left. Three left in Anthony’s.

“You’ll get your answer tomorrow,” he replied firmly. “In fact, I’ll drive you up there myself.”

I threw him a frown and reached for one more beer.

“Ruby and I already talked about it.” He shrugged.

“Ay, get your own model queen best friend—Ruby’s mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious. Why’re youse talking?”

“We made a pact years ago,” he said with a dismissive wave. “If either of us think you’re struggling with something, we talk behind your back to come up with a strategy to get you outta your funk.”

“Wow.” I stared at him, and I tried to wrap my brain around what he’d said, but the beers had slowed down the machinery. “Just wow, Anthony.”

He laughed.

I shook my head. “Tomorrow, I’m texting all your buddies. I want a pact too.”

He found that hilarious for some reason.

“So, what exactly did you agree on?” I asked.

Another chuckle slipped out before he sighed contentedly and reached for his smokes. “That I’ll drive you to Gideon’s, and she’ll be on standby with backup plans in case you get bad news and need to get hammered.”

Ouch. Well, at least they were being realistic about it.

“We don’t want you to throw yourself into the nearest nightclub to forget your troubles, bambino,” he explained more soberly. “That’s all. Judging by what you’ve told us—and what I’ve seen of this man—you two have something worth building on.”

I knew we did. Even Gideon knew it. The question was whether or not it trumped the original alternative.

A rock the size of Mount Everest tumbled down into my stomach, and I blew out a breath and set the beer on the table. I didn’t wanna drink no more.

“Hey.” He nudged me with his elbow. “That face won’t sell shit tomorrow, Nicky. You can only fight for him if you believe it’s worth it.”

He was right, but he was kinda ruining the beginning of my pity party.

“I can’t feel a little sorry for myself?” I asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “Nope. But we can change the subject if you want. Next week, I want to sit down and make us official partners in the Initiative. Fifty-fifty on everything.”

He knew just how to derail my thoughts and brighten my mood.Chapter 11“Ay, calm yourself, bambino!”

“I’m sorry!” I released a harsh breath and scrubbed my hands over my face, then groaned and cursed and—fuck. I had to get my shit together. Deep breaths, deep breaths. I chewed on my thumbnail and put all my focus on not tapping my feet restlessly or drumming my fingers against the armrest.

Anthony maneuvered his truck through the Manhattan traffic like a pro, but I wished he’d slow down. He was driving me toward my fate way too quickly.

I hadn’t been able to eat breakfast this morning. I’d fried up some eggs and bacon for my brother, and I’d almost hurled at the smell. That was how nervous I was. ’Cause I fucking loved bacon, otherwise.

This wasn’t gonna go well. I could feel it.

All signs pointed to disaster.

Starting with the fact that today would be the absolute first time I saw Gideon in broad daylight. It felt so weird to even think about seeing him when the sun was out. Anthony had looked at me like I was crazy when I’d said this was a bad omen, but it was the little things, right? Gideon and I had never done anything normal. No dates, no lazy mornings in bed, no going out for coffee, no meeting up for lunch during our workdays, none of that. We’d been creatures of the night and of secrecy.