“Not really.”
“Well, I don’t want to speak out of turn, but when I say this, it isn’t about your father. I think you’ve got something special. I want you to consider getting yourself an agent or manager. Doesn’t have to be me, but someone who can get you some bookings after this. It happens to be my specialty, especially if you want to start local, but I see big things for you, Lyn.”
He sounds so schmoozy right now, like a salesman making a pitch, but I can’t help but blush from the flattery. Is he serious? Does he see a future for me? Would he want to manage me if he didn’t think he could make money from it? What do I say to that?
The bartender sets our drinks in front of Jamie, and he hands me mine. “You take after your old man. That was his favourite.”
I glance from him to my whiskey and back at him with a smile. “I guess I do.”
I didn’t start drinking whiskey until after his death, but the smell of it always reminds me of him. He was never an angry drunk, and the smell of it has been an aching reminder of how much I miss him and a soothing agent, bringing me closer to him since I started drinking it.
“In more ways than one!” Jamie says, raising his glass. “Cheers to the future.”
“Cheers.” I clink my glass with his and we both take a sip.
“Nice to see you again.” The bartender nods before tending to another patron.
I nod with a smile.
“Okay, come on over here.” Jamie leads me to a booth right by the bar.
A man in a black Haddonboro T-shirt I recognize from way back when they first started looks up at us and slides out from the booth, standing just a bit taller than me. He might be in his late forties.
Jamie leans against the booth, smiling at him. “Howard, this is Lyn, the special guest in Haddonboro. Lyn, this is Howard, one of Haddonboro’s biggest fans.”
“Going on fifteen years of fandom with those guys. Nice to meet ya.” Howard gives me a little smile and turns to Jamie. “She’s no Pascha though, my friend. Where’d she go?”
I crane my neck back. Did he just say that right in front of me?
“She left for greener pastures,” Jamie says, waving to another guy in another booth and exchanging greetings.
Howard shrugs and turns back to me after Jamie ignores him.
“Oh-kay.” I step around to the other side of Jamie, and Howard follows me.
“Hey, you’ve got a real nice voice. You’re just not like her, y’know?”
“No,” I say, as a familiar face in the crowd by the front door catches my attention. “I’m not like her.”
“Will she be back or are you the new Pascha now?” Howard asks.
“Excuse me, please.” I sidestep around Jamie, passing Howard, and lock eyes with the man from my past.
The man I thought of before I sang the first song in the set. Unrequited love meets again.
Chapter 8
Now I’m all alone,
your name in stone,
but that’s not true.
I walk with the ghost of you.
“Lyn.” A light huff of laughter follows my name, and he shakes his head, stopping before me. His leather jacket hangs off him, a little too big like his dark jeans, a style choice that works for his laid-back look.
“Taylor.”
The guy I dated, but not for long. I never labeled him as a boyfriend, but we were something together. Neither of us defined it, and he even seemed to play it down after I left for college when we spoke online or through text once or twice. It had never been more than a summer fling to him. Maybe it wasn’t, but it felt like something special to me, and it drove me crazy, over analyzing things after I knew it was over.
His lips move, his voice smooth, barely reaching me over the music and I lean in closer. “It’s been a long time.” Notes of spice and sandalwood waft from him.
I lean back, making eye contact. “Yeah, it has. How are you?”
His eyes sparkle as he stares down at me without speaking, raising his brow slightly. I grin and before I can ask what the look is for, he speaks. “I didn’t figure you for the alternative rock type. Haddonboro, huh?”
“You saw?” I yell over the music.
He nods. “Caught the end of it.”
No compliment or real comment on my performance. No indication of what he thinks, except apparently, I’m not the type to be with Haddonboro.
“It’s just a temporary thing,” I say and add, “but I had a great time tonight.”
“Pardon?”
I lean in closer, catching another whiff of his cologne. “It’s just for a little while.”
He takes a step closer, closing the gap between us, and leans down until his warm breath blows on my neck. “…look great. It’s really good to see you.” He touches my arm and leans back just enough so our eyes meet and the chemistry we once shared, barely adults, hums between us. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since you left for college.” His hot, minty breath warms my ear. I haven’t seen him since before my dad’s death. He’s someone from my past, totally unconnected from the tragedy I’ve been through—untainted. He might not even know about it. Staying close, I touch my fingers to my lips, not sure what to say. “You here with anyone?”
I gaze up at him, wide-eyed. “Just the band.”
He laughs a little and leans in close again. “I’d love to go somewhere we can talk. Catch up.”
I would, too, but this would be the first time I was alone with a man I’m attracted to since the separation. Am I ready for that?
He leans back and takes a step away, his eyes searching
