Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Oxygen filled my lungs as I took a deep breath of relief. Maybe this was a sign I was getting over Trace.
That I was finally ready to move on.
That night, when I returned to Jake’s Place, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes, my camping friends joined me. Brennan and Val had come in earlier for a bite to eat while I’d been showing Shay a few things on the guitar, and we’d all made plans to support her during her performance.
I shouldn’t have worried. There were other people from the campground, several groups of locals, and a few people on motorcycles just passing through. The small crowd made me happy I’d stuck around earlier in the day and showed Shay a few things on the guitar. She’d practiced several of her favorites, including “Dance With Me,” which was one of the songs Papa had written for Dad when they got together years ago. Without mentioning my connection to the music, I’d shown her a picking style to use before the bridge that had made her eyes light up with excitement.
Tonight, she looked great, dressed in a silvery-spangled tank top and well-worn jeans with her long hair curling down her shoulders. It was clear many of the locals knew her because older couples shouted out good luck with affectionate nicknames. It reminded me of how supportive the rest of the Marians would be if I ever got up onstage like this. Not that I had any plans to do that.
“She’s a cutie,” Brennan said, leaning in to speak close so I could hear over the sound of the crowd and Shay’s warm-up. “Is that your guitar? I didn’t notice earlier.”
I nodded. “Hers broke, so I loaned her mine.”
He turned to meet my eye. He was a total sweetheart and the kind of guy I might have been into if he hadn’t had an obvious crush on someone else. Brennan and I had spent more than one evening in the past few weeks drinking beer and commiserating about unrequited love.
“That was nice of you, babe,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You’re very generous.”
Val’s forehead crinkled as he handed Brennan a beer. “What are the two of you talking about?”
Brennan grinned at him. “Will loaned that girl his guitar. Hers broke.”
Val up-nodded at me. “Good of you.”
Brennan bumped shoulders with me. “But I was sorry to miss you playing at dinner tonight.”
Val moved closer to him. “I like this place. Reminds me of that bar in Kingman, yeah?”
Brennan shrugged. “I mean, kinda. But that place was full of bikers. I was a little nervous in there, to be honest.”
Val put his arm around Brennan. “I would have protected you, bro. Always.”
Brennan smiled and put his head on Val’s shoulder, giving the jealous guy exactly what he wanted. I wondered how long it would take for Val to realize he was just as into his bestie as Brennan was.
These two—one gay and one straight—had a better chance at love than me ever ending up with my own crush, who was already fucking gay.
I quickly looked away and caught Jake’s lifted eyebrows. You okay? he mouthed. I shot him a bright smile and nodded.
Right. My crush was no longer Trace Bishop. I’d forgotten for a minute, but Jake was there to remind me there were better fish in the sea.
Cute fish. Fish who cared.
A little while later, after Shay had finished the third song of her set, Jake leaned across the bar to ask if I wanted another drink. I’d ridden over in Thierry and Armand’s big pickup, so I didn’t need to worry about how much I consumed. Still, I decided to avoid another liquor drink and switched to beer.
“Yes, please. Any lager you recommend.”
When he finished pouring it and handed it across, he clamped his hand over mine in a way that made my stomach tighten with nerves. “Will you stick around? After?”
I felt my cheeks heat. “Uh, yeah? If you want.”
He winked but was quickly called away by the woman who’d come in to help serve at the tables. Within seconds, he was down the bar helping others. As I watched him and thought about what I would say to Thierry and Armand about not needing a ride back to the campground, I wondered why I suddenly felt strange about the whole thing.
“You look constipated,” Thierry said when I moved over to the table where he and Armand were sitting.
“I’m… not,” I said with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think.”
Armand reached out and pulled over an empty chair from the table next to them. “Sit. What’s on your mind?”
I shook my head. “I think… I think I’m going to stay for the whole thing. Um… Jake? You know, Jake’s Place, Jake? I might…”
The two of them shared one of those married glances, the kind that said things without saying them. Then they looked back at me.