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The one thing I know is that the story I told myself about how we were, how we ended, was wrong. Our past isn’t the story I toldmyself.
Maybe our future isn’teither.
Tyler’s eyes warm on mine, and I wonder if he’s thinking the samething.
Beck drops into the booth, and I pull back myhand.
“Got an audition,” hechirps.
I glance toward the front door to see Elle and Rae walk inside. Elle looks startled when she sees all ofus.
“You were great tonight,” I tell her when she pulls up next to thetable.
Her lips curve, embarrassed. “Thanks. I didn’t know you guys were going to bethere.”
“What can I get you?” the waitress asks when I shift over to let my roommate and friend in. The waitress goes around to Elle and Rae and Beck before coming tome.
I turn the question over for a long moment before answering. “How’re your cheesefries?”
“They’re great,” she answers with asmile.
“I’ll take asmall.”
“Make it a large,” Tyler says smoothly, and I sneak a look at him under mylashes.
His expression is filled with an intensity that steals my breath, but for the first time this year, it doesn’t leave me feelingtortured.
It leaves mehopeful.
The waitress leaves, and my friends start to talk about one of the other performers from tonight’sshow.
I train my attention on Elle’s animated face, but I’m only half listening when something brushes myleg.
Tyler.
His calf against myknee.
It was probably an accident. Even with the five of us in this booth, it’s notcrowded.
Except he’s not moving. The single innocent touch has my entire bodyheating.
All it would take would be a tiny shift on my part to break thatconnection.
Instead, I stretch out my other leg and link my feet around his ankle so neither of us can moveaway.
9
“Where you going this early?Breakfast at Vanier?” Beck’s voice comes from the kitchen Thursdaymorning.
“Nah, I can make use of the now-functioning fridge,” I reply. “There’s some non-moldy cream cheese inthere.”
I pack my guitar in its case and give myself a quick once-over in the bedroom mirror on the badly painted dresser that came with the apartment. My shirt is not only clean but ironed, and my hair’s doing more or less what Iwant.
I’ll take it as awin.
“Yeah, but there’s nothing to put it on. Except an overripe banana.” Beck peers inside as I pass him, guitar intow.
“Figured you’d be into that,” I say as I head for the frontdoor.
