by Bria Quinlan
“No.” Sage shook his head and gave me the best smile I’d seen all day. “I thought you might want to come to work with me tonight.”
Megan literally bounced in her chair. But, I could see she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. She was definitely burning off that extra pump of chocolate I’d given her.
“To make cabinets?” she clarified.
“Well, you could come do that someday too, but tonight I actually have to record some fresh tracks for a new DBS album.”
“Oh.” I glanced toward Megan, who was nodding like a bobblehead on the dashboard of a car in a high-speed chase. “Tonight?”
“It’s your night off!” Megan all but shouted.
Sage turned her way and gave her the super-best smile. “Thanks, Megan.”
“No problem.” She actually gave him the thumbs up.
I didn’t even know what this farce was anymore.
“Where is it?” I asked, knowing logistics weren’t going to stop Megan.
When Sage named a town too far outside our area to hit on the train, I had the excuse I needed.
“Sorry. I don’t have a car.”
And, we already covered the stranger-danger thing yesterday.
“I’ll get a Zipcar!” Megan was still bouncing.
“What?” Because, that was not the plan as I saw it.
“A Zipcar!” Megan repeated, still with the exclamation point clearly planted at the end.
“You drive?”
“Yup.” She looked proud of this fact, as if ninety percent of people didn’t drive.
“But, a Zipcar costs money.” Winning point, Emily.
“I have a gift card.”
“For Zipcar?” Seriously, were there gift cards for everything?
“It’s more of a refund thingy I need to use, but yes.”
There was an excellent chance she’d lost her mind. But that probably happened before I met her. The sanity issue was just becoming more obvious now that her favorite band was all but within reach of her code orange level stalker actions.
I knew there’d be no living with her if I said no, so I did the only thing I could.
“Okay. Give us an address and we’ll see you tonight.”
And, on the way home, I’d have a Zipcar I could use to hide Megan’s body.
8
Sage
“So, the coffee girl, huh?”
Sage dragged his eyes to the right, keeping his hands steady on the wiring under the console. Blake Diedrich was in a squat, butt to heels, his fingers laced, elbows to knees. As if he hung out like that on the regular.
“Yep,” Sage confirmed, focusing again on the connection switch he’d been trying to tighten. “If she shows up.”
“Why wouldn’t she show up? Doesn’t she know about...” Blake waved his hands around the area. “All of this?”
Sage pinched the skin in between his thumb and forefinger in the jagged wood panel as he removed his hand. “Ow, shit, yeah.”
Blake backed out of the way as Sage rolled out from under the console. He stood up and flipped the switch that he’d been trying to reconnect. The light blinked on and he grunted in satisfaction. At least he was good at some things.
“When does your date get here?” Sway asked, flopping onto the long couch behind them.
This may have been a bad idea. “It’s not a date. We’re just hanging out.”
Blake, his arms crossed over his Black Sabbath T-shirt, and threw an eye roll to Sway. “You’re abusing your friendship with us to hit on chicks, dude.”
Sage cracked a smile. It never got old hearing a rock star refer to you as a friend. “Abusing? No. Definitely taking advantage of.”
“I love being taken advantage of,” Sway declared wistfully.
Sage shook his head. He was surprised it had taken them this long to say something, truthfully. He'd half expected a full inquisition when he’d arrived two hours ago after leaving Emily to finish up her job. But not even Lenny asked him anything about it when she’d let him in earlier. Sage had begun to believe maybe Luke hadn’t told anyone else. It was better this way; get the questions and teasing out now instead of later—when (if) Emily showed and caused her to run even faster away from him then she already was.
Part of him felt bad he was basically playing his biggest card just to get a conversation with her. That’s all he wanted.
He wasn’t stupid; she was not that into him. If anything, she was downright annoyed with him.
But every once in a while... she would smile at him.
That sounded ridiculous, she smiled all the time. She had one of the best smiles around and used it on everyone.
But there was a particular way she smiled at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.
It was two parts hesitant and one part hopeful, and Sage couldn’t get it out of his head. Like she wanted him to ask, but she needed to be able to say no.
She needed to be able to know she could reject him and he wasn’t going to turn into a dick.
And she could. She could reject him a hundred times and he would still feel stolen by her smile and thankful for her kindness. He didn't mind being rejected. Not even a little.
He sighed and sat down in front of the console. “The only reason I was able to talk her into coming tonight was because her roommate is very obviously a fan— of you, not me—so it was a little like an unplanned ambush.”
He checked the note he’d made earlier and adjusted the appropriate knobs.
“Does she know what a big nerd you are?” Blake asked, fiddling with knobs on his side of the console. Sage smacked his hand away.
“I don’t know. I’ve been leaving my I’m a Giant Nerd sandwich board at home lately.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But she’s seen my sketches, and this monster.” He lifted up his copy of Audio Cyclopedia. “My personal favorite was when my mom came in and announced I was still living at home.”
Blake whistled under his breath. “And you haven’t given up yet?”
Sage snorted a laugh. “What can I say? I have a thing for girls who are too good for me.”
“They’re the best kind,” Sway spoke up seriously.
Blake patted him on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Don’t worry; we’ve got your back.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Sage said around a chuckle.
“What? Why?” Blake actually looked confused.
Sage shook his head, remembering the last time he had a girl visit him while he worked.
“Oh, yeahhh,” Sway said before letting out a deep laugh. “Remember when his ex—what was her name? Heely? Bethel?—”
“Heather,” Sage supplied.
“Right! Heather the Clever,” Blake jumped in. “We saved you, dude. That girl had issues.”
Heather had come out to see him, upon his invite, of course, when the band had played a festival. It had really been the nail in the coffin of their relationship. He had been hoping that if she saw what it was he did, and how good he was at it, and how happy it made him, she'd be happy for him. That was all he wanted.
But she hadn’t been impressed.
“I’m still pissed at her on your behalf,” Blake rumbled. “You’re really friggin’ talented and she treated your job like a monkey could do it.”
“To be fair,” Sage spoke up, “she said orangutan. Orangutans are among the most intelligent primates. They use tools, construct elaborate nests...they even develop distinct cultural ideals, and have incredible learning capabilities.”
When he was met with silence, he turned to see Blake shaking his head at him.
“Nerd.”
Sage grinned.
Losing Heather only sucked because she had been awesome— smart, driven, great sense of humor, wasn't afraid to try new things. But ultimately they had just wanted different lives.
She wanted a steady future, all mapped out from beginning to end. And Sage wanted to travel and create. He enjoyed using his hands in conjun
ction with his brain to make brand-new things, and Heather thought manual labor was a step below successful.
It wasn’t her fault, really; it was just the family she had been raised in and the expectations put on her by her parents.
Finding out they didn’t have the same idea for the future had hurt. It had probably hurt him more than her.
Still, he wasn’t going to be bitter about it. He was thankful for the lesson he’d learned and even more thankful she’d given him a chance at all.
The indicator light directly beside the one he’d just fixed blinked out.
Sage sighed and crawled back under the console.
He wondered what Emily would think of his job. If she would be impressed, or underwhelmed.
He knew one thing. She was absolutely worth the chance he was taking to find out.
9
Emily
Megan stepped out of her room wearing a Double Blind Study T-shirt.
“No.” I finally found the line and drew it. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”
“But I want to show them my love! I mean, this T-shirt dates back to pre-the mess.” She smoothed her hands down her side, pulling the fitted tee even tighter. “I’ve been with them through it all.”
I wasn’t sure what the band’s “the mess” was—and to be honest, I didn’t care—but Megan was already going to go mega-fan on them and my job was to mitigate as much embarrassment as possible right up front.
Megan narrowed her eyes, and I knew she would not go softly into this great night.
“What if—”
“No.”
“I could—”
“No.”
“Fine, but—”
“Still no.”
Megan gave me what she thought of as her Death Glare Laser Eyes and swung back into her room to change.
“Don’t put a jacket on,” I called after her. “I’ll just check.”
Behind me, Ash laughed. Why couldn’t Ash be the fan?
“She’s just going to stuff the shirt in her bag,” she whispered the words, a fair heads up.
“Thanks. I’ll do a bag check, too.”
She came back out wearing a little denim skirt, a snap-button cowgirl shirt, and cowboy boots.
I wasn’t sure if we were going to a music studio or a rodeo.
“Ummm…” How to say, too much?
“Too much.” Ash shook her head. “Way too much.”
Okay. Just straight-out, I guess.
“Lose the boots?” Megan asked.
“At least.” Ash gave me a look as Megan headed back into their room.
“Do they play country?” I asked Ash, because I’d really thought they were more rock. Maybe they had something out I didn’t know about.
“No. Not even a little.”
Megan came out wearing a pair of beat-up Converse sneakers and looking a little less like she needed a lasso.
“Let’s hit the road!”
I could only hope she meant that less literally than I feared. Megan had gotten up at a ridiculous hour. It was basically her birthday, Christmas, and the last day of school all rolled into one.
She may still have had the cowgirl-snap-shirt on, but her bag was a full tote.
Mental Note to Self: Get Ash a thank you gift.
“Open the bag, Megan.”
She completely deflated.
“We’re going to be late.”
“No. We’re not.” I raised a hand before she could rush on. “And, your Zipcar is sitting there waiting for us. No one can take it. So, it’s not like we’ll miss the bus.”
Ash had told me this morning while Megan was in the shower that she’d kept her up all night trying to pick out the coolest Zipcar she could find within walking distance.
The fact that it would say Zipcar in giant green letters across it didn’t seem to kill the cool factor for Megan.
After I’d cleared her of all fan paraphernalia, we headed down the street to grab the car she rented for the day.
Inside the parking garage, she headed straight for the Zipcar station by the stairs. It wasn’t until she was unlocking a Mini Cooper that I started to worry.
“That’s what you rented?”
“Right? It’s adorable!”
It was super cute. I was just hoping we’d survive the ride. It was a little…small.
“They have a high safety rating for a car this size.” She stowed her bag in the tiny backseat and climbed in.
I was more worried about their Megan Rating. I’d heard stories. Stories that kept me from getting in cars with her.
Of course, living in town meant we could take the T, but if a car was needed, there were a bazillion people who were not Megan you could pay to drive you.
“Well, come on.” She was all but bouncing in her seat.
I got in, sliding my seat belt home immediately, and was glad I didn’t have anything I needed to leave to anyone since I hadn’t done a will.
“Ready?” Megan didn’t give me a chance to answer as she backed out of the parking space.
So far, so good. We hadn’t hit anything yet—or died in a horrible, fiery crash.
Megan stopped at the entrance to the parking garage, slid her sunglasses over her eyes, and gave me a grin that had chills running down my spine.
“Here we go!”
We zoomed out of the darkness and into the bright morning sun, barely missing a fire hydrant that was “too close to the corner,” and cut off an SUV that could have rolled over us without blinking.
Megan reached over, leaving only one of her semi-competent hands on the wheel, and turned on the radio. She then started rifling through her bag until she found a CD, which she popped in.
I would have offered to help, but that would have meant letting go of my death grip on the door’s handle.
I thought we might live through this until she got on the Mass Pike. Then, all bets were off.
Megan was having a grand old time, speeding and weaving while singing along to her favorite DBS song at the top of her lungs, completely ignoring that I was about to pass out or pee myself from fear.
Once we got off the Pike, our little car wove through the tree-filled neighborhoods. We passed fewer cars, and the houses got farther and farther apart until my phone told us we were there.
“Holy crap.” Megan sat, eyes staring up at the large house at the top of a small incline. “Although, I’m a little disappointed. I expected a big gate. I wanted to have to prove my identity and maybe get frisked by a hot security guy.”
Me? I just wanted to make it through the day. Between Megan being Megan and Sage and our non-date-hangout-covert thing, I was hoping I could keep my even-flow flowing.
“This isn’t Hollywood.” Because, no matter how crazy their life might be, it couldn’t be Hollywood if I was involved.
“Yeah, but they’re rock stars.”
True, but there was something about Boston celebrities. Or maybe it was the non-celebrities. There was a cool factor that meant you had to play off that you just didn’t care how rich or famous they were. Maybe it was because the list of famous people from the Boston area was out of control.
I worked at a nail salon for three months where Mindy Kaling’s mom went. Celebrities and their people were everywhere. And no one was dressed like idiots—most of the time. East Coast Famous seemed to be a thing.
So, yeah. The whole region just played it cool.
“This is the most freaking awesome thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life and I hope I don’t pee my pants!”
Ooookay. Everyone in the region except Megan just played it cool.
Also, this was the worst idea I’d ever had. Not that it had been my idea or I’d really had a choice.
Sage lost any points he might have gained by using Megan to force me to hang out.
Not that he’d had points or I was keeping score. What I was keeping was far away.
The car lurched forward. I was wondering how fast Megan could get it up the slight
incline. We got to the top of the small hill and I pointed to the right where the drive cut around the house.
“He said come around to the garage out back.”
We pulled around a large, classic New England house only to find a carriage house with a bunch of cars lined up next to us.
“That’s a carriage house.” I was a little confused about if this was the garage or not. I glanced at the house to see if there was an actual garage attached to it.
“Yup.”
“He said garage.”
“Of course he did. That’s more rock and roll. ” Megan was thrilled. “A carriage house! Do you think they have a carriage?”
“I think they have a studio.” Which would make sense. Horses would be really distracting while recording.
We found a space left for us under a tree on the far side of the drive and several cars way nicer than what had to be Sage’s pickup lined up along the side.
“Aren’t you glad we have the Mini now?” Megan smiled, all smug as if the Mini were a match for the brand new Mercedes-AMG GT.
“Yup,” I said, not wanting to crush her joy…just keep it from killing anyone. “The Mini is a lifesaver.”
I got out of the car as soon as she put it in park, glad to have the ground under my feet, but a little nervous where that ground led.
I headed toward the door at the side of the building, Megan bouncing along next to me.
“Do not embarrass me.” I felt the need to say this even as I realized it was probably a hopeless cause.
“Would I do that?” Megan looked genuinely insulted.
I guess she’d probably be on her best behavior in front of her favorite band. The hero worship would—with any luck—keep her in check.
I knocked on the door, but when no one answered, I pulled it open enough to peek in. Sage sat at a big panel of button and slide thingys, his head bopping to the music coming in over some speakers.
The room was filled with couches and a gorgeous painting decorated the back wall.
Beyond the glass wall, five guys rocked out until the gorgeous one—the most gorgeous one—waved a hand in the air, bringing them all to a halt.