Starting From Somewhere (Starting From 4)

“Same. Break time?” Cade asked, setting his drumsticks on his stool before stretching his arms above his head.

Dec checked his watch, then let out a low whistle. “It’s already six. Let’s call it a night. T and I are going for dinner in an hour anyway.”

“Ooh, date night.” I fist-bumped Cade and Gill as they headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. It’s his turn to pick. My mom is showing my place this weekend and I’ve been given strict instructions not to dirty my kitchen unless I intend to have it professionally cleaned by Saturday. Not happening, so…we’re eating out.” Dec propped his elbow on his beater acoustic guitar. “What are you doing?”

“No idea. Maybe I’ll swing by Taco Bell.”

“You don’t eat fast food,” he reminded me.

“Oh, yeah.”

I set my instrument on a stand, then glanced up when I heard voices in the hallway. Zero filed out of their studio with a whoop of laughter. Justin bounded in front of them, making some weird noise. Tegan and Ky laughed at something Johnny said. Gill and Cade joined in a moment later. I had no idea what was so funny, but I smiled at their hijinks. Tegan called my name when he spotted me in the doorway. Everyone turned, including Johnny…and fuck, the second his smile slipped, my heart clenched.

There we go. One more reason I could never get involved with anyone I worked with again.

I fixed my mask before yelling a slightly obscene greeting. Then I grabbed a water bottle from a nearby table, twisted the cap off, and gulped half the contents in record time. I belched, just because, and made a peace sign as I moved toward the door.

“Dude, you have to talk to him,” Dec said, bumping my arm.

I stared into space for a long moment. “I’ve tried, but…”

“Try harder.” He sidled by me. “Lock up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dec was right. I had to try. Again.

I locked up and hurried down the hall toward the main exit. I called out a quick good-bye to Bianca as I pushed open the glass door, stopping in my tracks when I spotted Johnny standing beside a familiar-looking Mini Cooper…with Cody.

The insta-wave of jealousy took me by surprise. First of all, I had no right and no reason. It was a misplaced possessive sentiment. I’d actually scoffed at Dec’s idea for our band’s name in the beginning and tried to get him to go with something cooler, like Mercury Sledgehammer or Neptune Satellite. But that bird had already flown the coop. Secondly, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt jealous about…anything. I didn’t care if my friends had nice cars, big homes, or more money in their bank accounts. I doubted the latter applied, ’cause I was loaded. Not important.

The point was…the concept and feeling were so foreign that I didn’t know how to react.

I greeted them with a friendly wave, pausing a few feet from the car bumper instead of jumping between them like I wanted to.

“Hey, are you just leaving now?” I asked, channeling my best Captain Obvious.

Their reactions to my sudden presence were polar opposites. Cody’s cheeks went a shade pinker while Johnny’s tight-lipped sort-of smile felt like running into a force field.

“Yes,” Cody replied. “I detected an interesting anomaly in one of the reports and couldn’t let it go without doing a little research.”

Fuck, he was cute. I met his gaze and grinned like a fool. “Of course you couldn’t.”

Johnny fished his keys from his pocket as he stepped aside. “Nice to meet you, Cody. See you around. Later, Bobby.”

I wrestled with the notion that I’d dodged a bullet while the better part of my conscience told me to go after him and straighten out the mess between us once and for all. But my feet were glued to the pavement. I didn’t feel like being mature. I felt like flirting with the cute intern. The one fixing me with a curious stare.

“Is everything okay?” Cody asked, cocking his head.

“Meh. I need to talk to him.” I sighed heavily. “I’d rather talk to you. I have a list of questions for you.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t think of them right this second. I’ll write them down and leave them on your desk.”

“That sounds…flirtatious,” he singsonged playfully.

I whirled around and raised my forefinger. “It’s not flirting. It’s information-gathering. There’s a difference.”

“Of course.”

I narrowed my gaze. “You’re too young for me.”

“You’re too old for me,” he countered.

“I’m not that old.”

“You’re not that young either. Good night, Robert James. Perhaps I’ll see you Friday.” Cody unlocked his car, tucked his computer bag in the back, and opened the driver’s side.

I grabbed the top of the door before he could slide behind the wheel. “Hang on. How’d you know my name?”

“Lucky guess.” He rolled his eyes when I glowered. “Fine. I googled you. Well, I googled your father. Dr. James Prescott is a world-renowned scientist, author, and heir of the C and R railway fortune. He has one son, Robert James, age thirty-nine—”