I owed you one,” he says. “It was cool for me, too. I haven’t gotten over being amazed by the whole process yet. It’s kind of like magic or something.”
I know what he means. It is like that, watching something amazing being conjured out of thin air, the pieces coming together to form something beautiful and possibly able to resonate with so many people.
“It’s early. You wanna go somewhere and hang out a while? There’s a good band over at Lauren’s place.”
“Can we have an honest moment?”
“Sure,” he says.
“I like you, Beck. I really like you. Who wouldn’t? But my head is kind of somewhere else right now.”
“Holden,” he says.
“It’s not something I won’t get past. I really don’t have a choice. So maybe if you could just give me a little time?”
“That’s more than cool,” he says. “Let’s just hang out. No expectations. No demands. How’s that sound?”
“I don’t know. Like maybe you’re too good to be true?”
He laughs. “Or maybe I just know a good thing when I see it, and I don’t want to blow it.” He reaches out and brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Let’s just go have some fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. And that sounds like a great idea to me.
THE RESTAURANT IS CRAZY busy. There’s a line flowing out the main door and down the sidewalk several storefronts long.
Beck knows the guy behind the rope and gets waved in, towing me along behind him.
“I feel really funny about that,” I say as we slip inside the low-lit interior.
“Funny enough to go stand at the end of that line?”
“Um. Maybe not?”
The band playing on stage is country with a thumping beat, and you can’t help but instantly feel it in your bones and want to move to it.
Holden isn’t supposed to be working tonight, so I start at the sight of him behind the bar, filling glasses with ice. As if he feels my gaze on him, he looks up and suddenly we’re staring straight at one another, my heart kicking up instantly.
In that moment of blank honesty, I see the flash of hurt in his eyes.
There’s no justification for it. He has no say over who I’m here with, but at the same time, I know that feeling. It’s the same one I get when I see him with Sarah, and I realize that it gives me no pleasure to make him feel that.
He turns his back and smiles at a woman at the bar. I watch its effect on her, the way she leans in and stares up at him. I turn away abruptly as my stomach does a somersault of hurt, unreasonable as it is.
As it turns out, Beck knows a couple of the band members, and we snag a table up close. During the first set, I sit as if anchored to my seat, focusing on absorbing every note of every song. The lead singer is incredible. She’s got a voice that flows from her like warm honey and a range that makes me instantly envious. She also has the kind of looks that make listening to her nearly secondary to watching her.
They take a break after the first set and the singer comes over to our table.
“Hey, Beck,” she says. “Glad y’all could come out.”
“Hey, Tania. You’re rockin’ it tonight.”
“Thanks,” she says with an appreciative smile.
“Tania, this is CeCe MacKenzie.”
“Y’all are great,” I say. “I love your sound.”
“Thanks,” she says, turning her smile to me. “We’ve been working hard at it.”
“No doubt,” Beck says. “Y’all are really getting the polish on it.”
“Thank you.” She looks at Beck, her eyes suddenly teasing. “Is she why you never called me back?”
Most guys would have been embarrassed by that kind of direct arrow, but Beck shrugs and says, “Nooo. But she could be.”
Tania laughs. “Don’t worry. I’m on to greener pastures.”
And for some reason, what’s between them doesn’t feel like anything other than good-natured ribbing. No daggers like there had been with Macey last night.
The rest of the show is great, and Beck seems to know half the people in the place, but
I know what he means. It is like that, watching something amazing being conjured out of thin air, the pieces coming together to form something beautiful and possibly able to resonate with so many people.
“It’s early. You wanna go somewhere and hang out a while? There’s a good band over at Lauren’s place.”
“Can we have an honest moment?”
“Sure,” he says.
“I like you, Beck. I really like you. Who wouldn’t? But my head is kind of somewhere else right now.”
“Holden,” he says.
“It’s not something I won’t get past. I really don’t have a choice. So maybe if you could just give me a little time?”
“That’s more than cool,” he says. “Let’s just hang out. No expectations. No demands. How’s that sound?”
“I don’t know. Like maybe you’re too good to be true?”
He laughs. “Or maybe I just know a good thing when I see it, and I don’t want to blow it.” He reaches out and brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Let’s just go have some fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. And that sounds like a great idea to me.
THE RESTAURANT IS CRAZY busy. There’s a line flowing out the main door and down the sidewalk several storefronts long.
Beck knows the guy behind the rope and gets waved in, towing me along behind him.
“I feel really funny about that,” I say as we slip inside the low-lit interior.
“Funny enough to go stand at the end of that line?”
“Um. Maybe not?”
The band playing on stage is country with a thumping beat, and you can’t help but instantly feel it in your bones and want to move to it.
Holden isn’t supposed to be working tonight, so I start at the sight of him behind the bar, filling glasses with ice. As if he feels my gaze on him, he looks up and suddenly we’re staring straight at one another, my heart kicking up instantly.
In that moment of blank honesty, I see the flash of hurt in his eyes.
There’s no justification for it. He has no say over who I’m here with, but at the same time, I know that feeling. It’s the same one I get when I see him with Sarah, and I realize that it gives me no pleasure to make him feel that.
He turns his back and smiles at a woman at the bar. I watch its effect on her, the way she leans in and stares up at him. I turn away abruptly as my stomach does a somersault of hurt, unreasonable as it is.
As it turns out, Beck knows a couple of the band members, and we snag a table up close. During the first set, I sit as if anchored to my seat, focusing on absorbing every note of every song. The lead singer is incredible. She’s got a voice that flows from her like warm honey and a range that makes me instantly envious. She also has the kind of looks that make listening to her nearly secondary to watching her.
They take a break after the first set and the singer comes over to our table.
“Hey, Beck,” she says. “Glad y’all could come out.”
“Hey, Tania. You’re rockin’ it tonight.”
“Thanks,” she says with an appreciative smile.
“Tania, this is CeCe MacKenzie.”
“Y’all are great,” I say. “I love your sound.”
“Thanks,” she says, turning her smile to me. “We’ve been working hard at it.”
“No doubt,” Beck says. “Y’all are really getting the polish on it.”
“Thank you.” She looks at Beck, her eyes suddenly teasing. “Is she why you never called me back?”
Most guys would have been embarrassed by that kind of direct arrow, but Beck shrugs and says, “Nooo. But she could be.”
Tania laughs. “Don’t worry. I’m on to greener pastures.”
And for some reason, what’s between them doesn’t feel like anything other than good-natured ribbing. No daggers like there had been with Macey last night.
The rest of the show is great, and Beck seems to know half the people in the place, but
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