by Tara Wyatt
“So,” she said, pressing her fingers to her mouth to conceal her bite of taco. “I landed a last-minute gig at this bar in Williamsburg tonight. You wanna come?”
He smiled, then picked up a napkin and wiped at his mouth. “Duh. Text me the time and address and I’ll be there.” He loved watching Lauren perform, especially when she was singing her own songs. He always felt this heady mix of pride and hope and happiness when she was up on stage, doing her thing.
“Okay, cool.” She took another bite of her taco, glancing at him furtively. Crap, she wanted to ask him about the almost kiss. And he was an asshole, because he wasn’t going to give her an opening. He knew Lauren well enough to know that she hated anything that felt even remotely like conflict or confrontation, so if he didn’t bring it up, he was willing to bet she wouldn’t either. But then she set her taco down, glanced at the door, which was open only a few inches, and then cleared her throat. “So, um, are we just gonna not talk about it?” Her cheeks blazed red, and he could see what this question was costing her.
He grimaced and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Talk about what?”
She snorted out an adorable little laugh. Then her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red and she leaned forward, her voice just barely above a whisper. “The fact that you almost kissed me on Friday night.”
He hesitated, feeling this strange tug in his chest. He blew out a breath and pushed his hand through his hair, trying to think. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I don’t know...I don’t know what I was doing. It was a dumb move, and I’m really sorry. I never meant to make you feel weird or anything. It shouldn’t have happened.”
She held very still, and then after a moment, she picked up her taco again, taking a massive bite. After she’d swallowed, she said softly, “Okay, then.”
He frowned. Did she look...disappointed? No. Definitely not. If anything, she was probably just annoyed with him for being an idiot, which was totally fair.
“I’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable. That’s obviously the last thing I’d ever want to do,” he said cautiously. “And I promise it’ll never happen again.” His desk phone started ringing. “Shit, I gotta answer that.”
“No problem,” she said, taking her last bite of food. “I should let you get back to work. See you tonight.” Her voice was a bit flat, but Theo didn’t really have time to digest it because the mediator he’d been trying to reach for the past week was finally calling him back. As he spoke on the phone, Lauren packed up, tossed the garbage from their lunch, waved and left. When he got off the phone twenty minutes later, he sat back in his chair, swiveling around to look out his window at the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge.
As much as he cared about her, he couldn’t date Lauren. It was only inevitable that he’d fuck it up royally, hurt her, and ruin their friendship. He’d completely sworn off serious relationships over two years ago because he’d gotten sick of hurting people, plain and simple. Logically, dating didn’t make sense when he couldn’t make it work, so he’d stopped pursuing anything beyond the casual. The only reason he dated at all was because he wasn’t a monk and sex wasn’t something he was willing to give up. So, even if he was attracted to Lauren—check—and even if he had feelings beyond the platonic for her—double check—their friendship mattered more to him than anything else. He had a responsibility to protect her from the damage he knew anything romantic between them would cause.
And so he took what he was feeling, took the lust simmering just below the surface, and imagined squeezing it into a tiny little ball and then throwing it into the East River, where it could never hurt her.
Lauren sat on a little stool backstage, tuning her guitar one last time. She could hear the buzz of the crowd on the other side of the wall, the hum of voices giving her a jolt of nervous adrenaline. She’d been performing for a long time, but she still got butterflies before going out on stage. And she was glad for it, because the butterflies meant she still cared. They meant she was still passionate about this thing that she wanted so badly. This thing that she was scared might become more hobby than career.
“Here,” said Willa, handing her a bottle of water as she tucked a strand of her chin-length brown hair behind her ear.
Lauren took it and sipped, letting the cool water slide down her throat. “Thanks.” Willa had been coming to Lauren’s shows since their college days, often helping with hauling gear and providing support. She was a ray of sunshine in a sometimes grimy world, and Lauren was grateful for her.
“Are you going to play anything new tonight?” she asked, her tone almost casual, but not quite.
“Actually, yeah. I have a new song called ‘Looking In.’”
Willa nodded and then leveled her gaze at Lauren. “Is it about Theo?”
Lauren’s heart jumped up into her throat. She hadn’t told anyone about her near kiss with Theo, so how did Willa know that yes, the song was about her feelings for Theo and how she didn’t know what to do?
“Um...” She said eloquently, suddenly becoming very interested in one of the strings on her guitar. “What?”
Willa shrugged. “Well, most of your songs are about Theo, aren’t they?”
“What?” Lauren repeated, her face hot.
“Come on, Lauren. It’s just me. You can be honest.”
She set her guitar down and stood, rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. “A few, okay? So what?” She normally wouldn’t have been so defensive, but she was still feeling a bit raw after he’d apologized for almost kissing her and assured her that it would never, ever happen again. She kept telling herself that she should feel relieved, but all she felt was rejected.
“You’re on in two minutes,” said the stage manager/bartender, poking his beanie covered head into the room.
Lauren plastered a smile on her face. “Great, thanks.”
“Does he know?” asked Willa, apparently not willing to let this drop.
“Of course not. He’d run screaming in the other direction. In fact...” She took a deep breath, needing to share this with someone. Needing to get what had almost happened out of her brain and into the open. “We almost kissed on Friday night. After my birthday.”
Willa’s mouth fell open. “What? What happened?”
“We were at his place, on the couch, and I was feeling a bit down because of, you know, my birthday and not really being where I want to be in life, and he was comforting me. Then, all of a sudden, his arms were around me and he was telling me how amazing I am, and we were like thisclose to kissing when Bastian ruined everything.”
Willa’s eyebrows knit together. “How did Bastian ruin everything?”
Lauren waved her hand. “By being the train wreck that is Bastian. Still think you want to work for a Prescott?”
“Well, Max is a totally separate person from Sebastian. Besides, I already have an interview at Tapp on Wednesday, so...” She shrugged. “And we’re not talking about me right now, anyway. We’re talking about you.”
“Right. Anyway, we didn’t really talk about it. I brought it up when we had lunch today and he apologized like he’d run over my dog or something. Like, the idea of it was just so awful to him.”
Willa’s face lit up. “Maybe you need to—”
“Please welcome to the stage Lauren MacKinnon!” Lauren shot Willa a smile before strapping on her guitar and stepping out onto the small, brightly lit stage. Without pre-amble, her band launched into the first song, the new one she’d written that weekend as she’d tried to work through her feelings about the almost kiss and Theo in general.
It was an upbeat folk-pop song with a pretty standard D-A-G chord progression at its core. The melody was fairly simple, mostly because she’d spent the majority of her time working on the lyrics. Fingers anchored on her guitar strings, she stepped up to the mic and started to sing, wondering if Theo was here.
“I don’t know what I’m looking for
Maybe just a reason
That we could be more
That we could change like a season
Sometimes I think we should take that chance
Seems so simple at first glance
But I don’t know because I’m on the outside
Know you so well, but you don’t let me in
Think I don’t see you for who you are
And that’s fine, I’ll stay right here
Looking in...”
She strummed her guitar and bopped along with the music as they headed toward the second verse. Out of habit, her eyes skimmed the crowd and then her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she almost lost her place in the song. There was Theo, at a table in the corner with Brandon, Dori, and Willa, beaming at her. He had this way of smiling that she loved—it was like he smiled with his entire face. The skin around his eyes crinkled and his eyes gleamed. His cheeks moved up, making room for the wide, often open-mouthed smile. Even his nose got in on the action, wrinkling just the slightest bit. Theo’s smile was, hands down, her favorite smile.
He winked at her, and it was a good thing she was such a seasoned musician, because her stomach did this funny flip floppy thing that might’ve thrown a less experienced performer off. She tore her gaze away from him, her eyes moving around the rest of the crowd. Theo was not boyfriend material. He didn’t do relationships, and oh right, he’d rejected her after nearly kissing her. He’d put her back in her friend place. Where she’d be smart to stay.
Pushing all of that away, she poured herself into the performance, singing and playing the guitar, belting out songs she’d written. Songs about falling in love, about heartbreak, about hope, fear, loneliness, bravery. Some were more personal than others, but she was willing to open herself up because part of the beauty of creating and performing music—part of the wonder of it—was the connection it fostered, between her and the listener, or multiple listeners all relating. All seeing themselves reflected back through something she’d written.
About an hour and a half later, she joined her friends at their table, a little sweaty and breathless after her performance.
“Hey, hey,” she said, stepping up beside Theo and hip checking him. She had that post-show buzz going on that made everything seem golden. Life, her relationships, everything. It was like being high, but in a totally non-drug induced way.
“Hey. That was really awesome,” he said, smiling at her and plucking one of the empty pint glasses from the stack and pouring her a glass from their pitcher.
“Thanks!” she said. Music was the one area of her life where she wasn’t afraid to own her talent, and she accepted his compliment easily.
“Seriously awesome show,” said Willa, giving Lauren’s shoulder a squeeze. “Remind me again why you don’t have a record deal?”
“Because every single demo I’ve sent out has either gotten ignored or rejected.” She’d put out a few albums independently over the years, but it wasn’t the same as having the backing of a major record label. “But I do have some exciting news. Thanks to a connection of Aiden’s, I have an audition to open for Lynne Townsend.”
“Oh, I love her music!” said Willa. “That’s awesome!” Lynne Townsend was a country-folk-rock singer whose debut album had burned up the charts and found massive crossover success. Her fans were exactly the kind of listeners Lauren wanted to connect with. If she could just get in front of the right crowds and build a big enough following, she had a feeling good things would happen.
“When’s your audition?” asked Brandon, picking at the almost empty plate of nachos on the table.
“Next week. The tour would be all next spring.”
“If you need something to wear, come see me at Saks. I’ll hook you up.”
“Thanks, B. I appreciate that, although I’m not sure Saks is really what the other indie folk singers are wearing these days.”
He shrugged. “Oh, true. Well, if you ever want to look like Lady Gaga, let me know.”
“Okay, so I have an idea,” said Willa, the words practically bursting out of her mouth. She clasped her hands together, her eyes bright. A tiny shiver made its way down Lauren’s spine. Willa was dangerous when she got that look on her face. She was an incurable meddler, and Lauren had a feeling she was about to become Willa’s meddlee.
“What?” asked Theo, taking a sip of his beer.
“Okay, hear me out. Theo, you’re single.”
“Yeah...” he said, setting his beer down slowly, his tone wary.
“Right, and Lauren, you’re single.”
“Uh huh.”
“And you guys are best friends.”
“Sure,” said Lauren, a cold knot forming in her stomach. Wherever this was going was probably very, very bad.
“Okay, so why don’t you set each other up?”
Lauren froze with her mouth open for just a second too long. “Set...what do you mean?”
Willa beamed, clearly beyond proud of herself for this idea. “You set Theo up with someone who you think would be good for him, and Theo, you set Lauren up with someone. You guys know each other so well, I can’t see how you’d pick bad dates for each other.”
Theo was staring at her with a weird expression on his face. He hesitated, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”
“No, but Lauren is,” said Willa, slipping an arm around Lauren’s shoulders. “And who better to set her up than you?”
He glanced at Lauren, uncertainty etched across his handsome face. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. But why can’t I just set her up? Why do I have to suffer?”
“Ah, you’re assuming there will be suffering involved.” Willa shrugged. “Maybe your picker’s just as broken as Lauren’s and you need her help to actually find someone you’d be down to date. Maybe if the two of you both start seeing someone else, you’ll be a little less attached at the hip and more open to new relationships.”
He hesitated again, toying with his beer glass before nodding. “That’s not the worst idea. I mean, obviously I want Lauren to be happy, and if she’s going to date someone, maybe I should too.”
Lauren had heard the expression “to have your heart sink” before, but she’d never really experienced it as intensely as she did in that moment. It felt like her heart slowly became heavier and heavier before sliding sickly down into the pit of her stomach. Theo regretted almost kissing her. Now he was happy to set her up with someone else. More proof that she needed to get over him because anything romantic was never, ever going to happen between them. Ever. And that was for the best, because they’d end up crashing and burning and only ashes would remain of their friendship.
She cleared her throat, swallowed, and when she still couldn’t get her voice to work, took a big swig of her beer. Before she could answer, Willa leaned over and quickly whispered in her ear, “This is your chance to get over him, babe. Trust me on this.”
Lauren blinked slowly as she digested Willa’s words. Huh. She hadn’t looked at it that way. Her immediate reaction had been to focus on what she’d be letting go of as opposed to what she might gain.
“What was that?” asked Theo, one eyebrow cocked.
“I was telling her that you probably know all kinds of cute lawyers. Or, hey! Maybe one of your brothers!” she said, snapping her fingers.
“No, not my brothers,” said Theo at the same time as Lauren shook her head vehemently. Sebastian was a mess, Max was an extreme workaholic and a total grump most of the time, and Lucian...well, he was straight up terrifying.
“Okay, fine, not your brothers. But you must know some eligible bachelors. And Lauren, you know some single ladies, right? Come on guys, this is genius!”
Lauren locked eyes with Theo, trying to read his mind, but for once, she didn’t have a clue what was going through his brain. She held his gaze in what felt very much like a game of chicken. After a moment, he blinked and looked away, and for some reason, that solidified her choice.
“Okay. I’ll do it. Theo?”
He ru
bbed a hand over the back of his neck and then smiled, but it wasn’t one of those whole face smiles. Not even close. “Yeah. Okay. I guess I’m in.”
6
Sweat ran down Theo’s face, his chest, and his back and his heart throbbed against his ribs. He could feel his pulse everywhere, and his limbs were heavy. “Oh, God,” he moaned, breathless, panting with exertion.
“Stop complaining,” said Max from beside him. Totally not sweaty. Totally capable of normal conversation. “We’ve only been running for three miles. One mile to go. Come on, champ. I thought you were in better shape than this.”
Theo stopped on the path, bracing his hands on his knees. He’d thought he was in good shape, too. He hit the gym regularly, lifted weights, even did yoga sometimes. But this…running was just not his thing. “I am in shape. I just don’t usually torture myself like this.”
“Hey, you’re the one who asked if you could come on my run,” said Max. He jogged on the spot, seemingly boundless with energy. Theo wanted to punch him.
He squinted at his older brother through the sweat dripping into his eye. “My mistake, apparently.”
Max stopped bouncing—thank God—and jammed his hands on his hips, an assessing look on his face. “Why did you want to come?” Other joggers moved around them, giving them dirty looks for stopping right in the middle of Central Park’s four-mile loop path.
“I thought some exercise might help,” he said, still panting as he tried to catch his breath.
“With what?”
Theo shrugged, struggling with how to put into words what he’d been thinking and how he’d been feeling the past few days. “Life, I guess.” He’d hoped that a run would clear his head and give him the chance to organize his thoughts, but instead, his inability to keep up with the brutal pace Max had set was only making him feel worse.
Max tipped his head in the direction of a path that led out of the park and towards the Met. “Let’s grab a coffee. I think you might need an ear more than a workout right now.”
