by Leah Atwood
He accepted. “Friends.”
***
A jolt struck her, but she made no effort to extricate her hand from Rob’s as they shook on their truce. In his own way, he’d given her the answers she needed, and she believed him. It should have made her happy, but it was a bittersweet victory.
Because now that she knew she’d pegged Rob wrong—hiding under his secrets was a good and decent man—she wanted to know him better, but a future relationship wasn’t possible. No matter whether there was a mutual attraction, some things just weren’t meant to be.
Best to lay it all on the table now as he had. In another time, another place. She was in reluctant agreement. Even setting aside his personal reasons, which she wouldn’t pry into, there were the matters of career, distance, faith.
In the end, it was Rob that pulled free. He looked toward the door, a sign he should go, but he hesitated, putting the decision on her. She didn’t miss the quirk of fate in the situation. Since he’d arrived in Oden Bridge, he’d been a thorn in her side, and she’d wanted him to leave. Now that the time had come, she wished to prolong it.
“Where are the others? I thought you guys were leaving together.” It was the first thing she thought of to say to get them back on neutral territory.
“They decided to take an impromptu vacation to New Orleans before the Redemption tour starts in a few weeks.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?”
“Nah.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to feel like a fifth wheel.”
She nodded, understanding all too well. “I’d go in the fall anyway when it’s not as hot and crowded.”
“Is that an invitation?” He winked, and she rolled her eyes. “Sorry, old habits die hard.”
“I’m sure.” This time she could laugh. All pretense and tension set aside, she was free to enjoy the banter.
Her phone buzzed against the laminate countertop. She picked it up and read the incoming text from her graphic designer, who was also a friend. He wanted to move the meeting up to nine in the morning. She sent back a quick reply that nine was fine.
“Sorry, that was my friend, Drew, who’s helping me redesign the menus. He wants to meet earlier tomorrow, and I still haven’t decided which ones I like best.”
“Want me to take a look? Sometimes fresh eyes help.”
“Sure.” Taking the stack off the counter, she spread them back over the table and pointed to the one in front of her. “This one was initially my favorite, but I think it’s too formal.”
“What are you trying to convey, casualness then?” He picked up the one she liked and studied it.
“Not exactly. More like fine dining without the stuffy atmosphere. Bayou Bits is a place where families can come and enjoy a relaxing dinner together, from the youngest of kids to the elderly.”
“In that case, you’re right. This one looks nice, but if I saw it, I would think upscale and not kid friendly.”
Surprised by what seemed like genuine interest from Rob, she showed him what she liked and didn’t care for about the other choices. “What do you think of these?”
He sat down in a chair and held two of the mock-ups. “Does it have to be one of these or can you still make changes?”
“I’m sure I can make changes. Why?”
“The layout of this one has a nice, smooth look. It’s classic in its font and arrangement, which will give you the formal look that you want. But, if you switch out these headers, and add the graphics from this one,” he said, lifting up the one in his left hand, “it will add some fun to it, while keeping it cohesive.”
Still standing, she took the menus from him and considered his suggestion. It was a possibility she hadn’t considered before, but he was onto something. “That might work. I’ll see what Drew can do about combining the styles. You have a good eye for this.”
“Not really, I just eat at restaurants too often so know my stuff.”
“Either way, thanks for the suggestion. I’ve spent more time that I should stressing over which design to use.”
“You’re very focused on the restaurant, aren’t you?” Unlike others who’d asked the same question, his tone held no judgment for her dedication.
“It’s a dream come true for me. Granted, some of the administrative tasks I could do without,” she nodded toward the menus, “but I love the cooking and seeing patrons enjoying their meals.”
“Not everyone gets the chance to live their dream. You’re lucky.” The statement was simple, yet held an edge of wistfulness.
Wasn’t he living his? He led a life a lot of people would envy, or did he want more?
“Do you ever feel like you’re living in Bryce’s shadow?” She immediately bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she hadn’t asked the first possibility that came to mind. Their new friendship was tentative, not receptive to probing questions of that nature.
A dash of surprise flickered across his face. “Not really. Sure, there are times when there’s been tension, especially when the label decided to drop our band name and just put Bryce’s out there, but we’re a team. When it’s just us, we’re all on equal footing.” He glanced toward the clock on her stove. “I should get going.”
She shoved her hands into her rear pockets and rocked on her feet. “Need a drink or anything to take with you?”
“I’m good, but thanks. Gram sent me home with a tin of cookies, and I got a drink before I stopped. Farther down the road I’ll grab some coffee.” He stood from the table.
“Drive safe.” She almost said Let me know when you get in.
“I will.” His hand clasped her arm in a light touch. “Take care, Dani.”
“You, too,” she whispered.
Their eyes held for a moment before he let go and walked away. When the door closed behind him, she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry.
Chapter 5
“Any plans tonight?” Jay opened the door to the tour bus and walked inside.
Rob followed. “Going out.” He squirmed, even as he said it.
“With…?”
“Some chick from promotions.” Plopping down on the couch, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
“Not wasting any time, are you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve only been on the road a week.” Jay took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
Irritation grated against his nerves. “I seem to remember multiple times that you picked up a girl the first night of a tour.”
“I grew up. One day you’ll have to as well.”
“Stop the do-gooder act, Jay. I’m not in the mood.” What was left of his adrenaline buzz from the concert wore off.
“Chill out.” Jay held his hands up. “I’m only giving you a hard time. What’s your problem tonight?”
“Nothing. I just want to get out for a bit.”
“Caroline and I thought you were falling for Dani.”
Rob had started to stand, but sank back down. Did Adam say something to everyone or was it that obvious? “Nah, she was a distraction during the wedding stuff, that’s all.” The bitter lie burned on his lips.
“Whatever.” Jay shrugged. “Don’t be out too late. We leave at sunlight.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“Don’t even joke like that. I’m still getting used to the idea of being engaged, let alone having future kids.”
“It’s called growing up.” Rob smirked, throwing Jay’s words back at him.
“Don’t you have some place to be?”
He stood. “You can take the bedroom tonight. I’ll sleep in a bunk.” They’d been alternating nights, but it made more sense to pass off his night so he wouldn’t wake Jay when he came back.
Jay nodded his acknowledgement before grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels. The sound of an old-school cartoon followed Rob down the narrow hallway of the bus. He sniffed—a shower was in order. During any given concert, the stage was hot, but tonight was par
ticularly bad since it was outdoors, somewhere in Arizona. Phoenix, or was it Tucson? Man, it was too early in the tour to forget already what town they were in.
By the time he finished cleaning up, the clock had already struck one. Jay wasn’t on the couch anymore, and Rob assumed he’d gone to bed. It was strange, how much things had changed over time. A few years back they would have all been out partying. Chances were, they would have been drunk and at least one of them would have found an eager female friend to spend the night with.
That was all in the past. None of them drank anymore after watching Bryce almost throw his life away, and the other three guys were all faithfully married or engaged now. Rob was the last man standing, and he wasn’t looking for a chair. Or hadn’t been. He was confused, had been since the wedding.
But tonight’s date had nothing to do with that. After a week straight of spending time with couples, he was sick of being the odd man out. He just wanted to hang out with someone and talk—not about kids, or families, or weddings.
His phone vibrated. He looked down to see a message from Aubrey, his date for the night.
Waiting outside the diner.
He grimaced. Hadn’t they agreed to one thirty? That was still twenty minutes away.
Be there in ten.
They were meeting at the diner a block from the venue. Its neon purple lights were impossible to miss, but the food was rumored to be decent. Probably not as good as Dani’s. He wished he’d had a chance to eat at Bayou Bits while he’d been in Oden Bridge. Next time, for sure.
After loosely buckling the belt holding up his khaki cargo shorts, he buttoned up his white shirt and slid a hand through his hair, opting for the messy look. Or lazy. It’s not like he was trying to impress Aubrey. They’d met a few days ago and had fallen into easy conversation. Two friends hanging out, that’s what they were doing.
He left the bus, locking up behind him. The parking lot was dark and void of anyone, save security. Heading to the right, he passed the bus Adam and his family were in, and then Bryce’s. Gone were the days when they all traveled in the same vehicle. The only noise he heard was the rumbling of car engines passing on the nearby roads, a stark contrast to the noise and excitement from earlier.
Aubrey stood outside the diner, her phone in hand. Her fingers tapped the device in rapid movements, shooting off a line of messages. Dressed in a short denim skirt and a royal blue tank, she’d opted for casual attire that showcased her trim figure.
“Hi.” He walked to her. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
She glanced up from her phone. “Oh, hey. Hold on a sec.” Her fingers tapped away again.
“Ready?” he asked once her hands stilled.
“Yes.”
Two kids who looked to be high school age walked out the door. Rob caught it on their exit and held it open for Aubrey. “After you.”
“Thanks.” She walked through, swaying her hips more than necessary.
“Have a seat anywhere,” an employee told them from behind the counter.
For being so late, the place was packed, but then, most diners he’d been in at this time of night usually were busy. The only empty table was a booth in the rear corner. They followed the trail of tables and claimed their seats. Aubrey slid in one side, and he, the other.
A waitress wearing jeans and a hot pink T-shirt with the diner’s logo approached the table. She set a glass of water and menu in front of both of them. “I’ll be back in a minute for your drink order.”
Rob scanned the menu with uncommitted interest. He wasn’t all that hungry. After deciding on an order of mozzarella sticks, he set the menu aside.
“Doesn’t look like they have any healthy options.” Aubrey set her menu down, her nose scrunched.
“I saw some salads listed.”
“Yeah, but I’d pretty much have to take off everything but the lettuce, and even then, the remnants would still be there.”
“Allergies?”
“No, but a body like this doesn’t happen by eating junk.”
Wow. He coughed into his arm, surprised by her bluntness. How was he even supposed to respond to that?
“You could ask for only a plate of lettuce,” he suggested with a hint of sarcasm.
“Good idea.”
The waitress returned and took their order. Aubrey ordered her plate of lettuce with a low-cal dressing on the side. To each their own, but he would eat his fried cheese without a single shred of guilt.
Aubrey picked up her phone again, sending more messages. “Sorry, a friend is having a crisis.” She returned her phone to the table.
“Everything okay?” At least there was an explanation for her constant phone use. There were times he was guilty of it as well, but good grief, her phone had barely left her hands.
“Should be. She has a breakfast date in the morning and can’t figure out what to wear.” She laughed, oblivious to her rude behavior.
He bit his tongue. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where not knowing what to wear for a date was considered a crisis. Just when he was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, her phone rang and she answered it, getting up from the table and disappearing outside.
Ten minutes later, he was still sitting alone at the table. Enough was enough. All he’d wanted was a night out to relax and have a nice conversation. Unfortunately, Aubrey was nothing like she’d seemed at the stadium. Appetite lost, he requested the check when the waitress delivered the food. He pulled out a twenty and a five from his wallet to cover the tab plus tip then laid the money on the table. If Aubrey wanted to come back in and eat, she could, but he wouldn’t be there.
He walked outside, catching sight of his date still chatting away.
“That was a bust,” he muttered, walking away.
“Rob, wait up.” From behind him, he heard the clunk of wedge sandals running toward him.
Turning, he saw Aubrey approaching. “Hey, it was getting late, so I decided to head back. The bill’s taken care of.”
“I didn’t mean to be on the phone so long. I’ve been a pretty bad date, haven’t I?” She batted her eyes, giving him a faux look of remorse.
“Morning’s going to come early. I couldn’t stay out much later anyway.” Diplomacy wasn’t his strong point, but he’d have to see her on a business level until the tour ended, and if he told her what he really thought, it could make the next seven weeks uncomfortable.
“There’s still lots of night left,” she purred. “You could come back to my hotel.”
“No.” He didn’t feel the slightest temptation to accept her open invitation. Even if the date had gone better, the answer would still be a resounding no.
In the last several years, he’d dated quite often. While he rarely went out with the same girl more than a handful of times, one thing remained constant—he never took a date home. There were boundaries he never crossed. He wasn’t a saint in many ways, not by far, but for this he had his reasons.
“Sure?” She put a hand to his chest, and he shrunk away, creating distance between them.
Her audaciousness was the final nail in the coffin. “Positive.” By the glow of a streetlamp, he could see her cheeks touched with a pink blush. He assumed she wasn’t used to being turned down. “Are you okay getting back on your own?” he asked, her safety his only concern.
“I’m right there.” She jerked a thumb toward a nearby building, a hotel he hadn’t previously noticed.
“I’ll see you around, all right?”
“Yeah, goodnight.” She turned and left.
Relief that the date was over came out through a sigh. What a night. He’d hoped that a date, time hanging out with someone other than his friends who’d all paired up, would have curbed the loneliness that had been haunting him of late. Instead, he felt worse than he did before going out.
The plaguing memories were changing though. Now, he thought of Dani. Her frustrated looks directed toward his flirtations. The moment she was in his arms while dancing. The
way her eyes lit when she talked of the restaurant. Her reluctance for him to leave, despite the fact that she’d tried to disguise it.
She was breaking his resolve. If things were different, could there be a hope for anything between them? The question hung over his head as he walked back to the tour bus. He should have asked for her phone number. She probably wouldn’t have given it to him. What was the point? Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?
He was crazy—that was the only explanation. Or tired. That had to be it. All thoughts and feelings were magnified after a certain point of night. He’d go to sleep, wake up tomorrow and feel fine. It was the lousy date combined with the shroud of darkness that was making him brood.
When he returned to the bus, he let himself in and went straight to his backpack on the table. After unzipping the bag, he pulled out a notebook, his lifeline. He grabbed a chair, flipped the outside light switch on then sat outside, craving the fresh air. Notebook on lap, he pulled the pen out from the metal spirals and opened to the page on which he’d last written.
He’d composed the music already—he just needed the right lyrics. Over the last decade, he’d written some fifty songs, but this particular one, he’d never been able to finish. Once he completed it, he’d be free. Only then, could he pursue his real dream and start the process of selling the others.
You’re not the one I thought I’d love. Quietly singing the words, he decided they wouldn’t do. He scratched them out, adding them to a hundred other lines he’d elected not to use. There were only a few clean pages left in the notebook, all the others were full of crossed out words and a handful of useful lyrics. He was so close to finishing.
But it wouldn’t be tonight.
He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 4:12 a.m.—two hours had passed since he’d been sitting outside. At this point, he may as well stay awake. The few hours of sleep he’d get would only make him more tired tomorrow.
The dry evening air was soothing, warm but not stifling like the confines of a building. His stomach growled, and for a second, he wished he’d eaten the mozzarella sticks instead of leaving them on the table. He went back into the bus, grabbed a pack of crackers and a soda, and then returned to his spot outside. Hunger abated, he stared into the night, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.