“Wait,you guys wanted to meet up with us?” she asked. “I mean, Brooke only mentionedit about six times since she got into work.”
“I’mjust reminding you,” he mumbled with a sigh, before yawning again. “I have topiss and grab some food. I’ll be back,” and with that, he slapped my back andwalked from the room, leaving us alone.
Iplaced the bag on a workbench and opened it up. Instantly, I was hit with thescent of warm roast beef and melted mozzarella. My stomach growled, and Ipulled the warm sandwich out of the bag. I turned to Kylie and held it up.
“Youwant half?”
“You’reoffering?” she asked, nearly knocking me on my ass with her smile.
“Iwouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” I laughed, setting it down and unwrapping thefoil.
Shecame to stand at my side and grabbed for one end of the sandwich. Aerosmith’s“Walk This Way” traveled from the radio speakers and I hummed as I took a bite,and I was struck with an idea.
“Holdon a sec,” I said, placing the sandwich down on the foil. I grabbed a couplefolding chairs and put them up to the worktable. “Here, sit,” and I droppeddown to one chair and patted the seat of the other.
“God,such a gentleman,” she said, sitting down. “You share,andyou give me aplace to sit.”
“Itry,” I said with a chuckle, and then couldn’t resist the urge to play the airguitar along with that memorable guitar riff before grabbing my half of thegrinder. “God, this is a great song.”
“Yeah,it is,” she replied, nodding. “Hey!That’swhat you should do. Youshould find yourself a cover band and play weddings or something. You’d pick uplotsof dates at those things.”
Igrunted a laugh, and with a mouthful of sandwich said, “Oh yeah, can youimagine? Me playing in a suit?” I gestured down to my spackle-stained,sheetrock-dusted jeans. “God, I can’t even picture myself with a band.”
Sheshrugged. “Things change. You might find you like it. Comradery and all that.”
“Well,I certainly wouldn’t be in one of those bands that demands I wear any kind ofuniform, so a wedding band is off the table. Nobody’s telling me what the hellto wear.”
“Oh,come on,” she said with a taunting grin. “You look good in a suit. All of yourgroupies would be all over you.”
“Groupies,”I laughed again, rolling my eyes. “You mean drunk bridesmaids.”
“Samething,” she said with a jump of her brows before taking a bite.
StevenTyler faded into the iconic guitar solo at the beginning of Metallica’s “One.”I tipped my head back, closing my eyes and taking it in as I ate.
Thebag from the deli crinkled and the cap of a bottle was twisted off, so I asked,“Are you drinking my soda?”
“Oh,uh … no. Just opening it for you,” Kylie said as though she’d been caughtred-handed.
“Youcan have some,” I said, smiling and taking another bite.
Shedrank and put the bottle on the table as the song really kicked off. My fingerstapped around the sandwich in time with the masterful riffs and chord changes,and they itched to be on the strings of my guitar.
“Youhave to get out of here Dev,” Kylie said quietly, and I opened my eyes.
“Oh,yeah? And how would I pay my bills?” I challenged her with the question as Ireached for the Dr. Pepper and put it to my lips. I took a sip, unsuccessfullykeeping my mind from the fact that her lips had been there too.
“Yourmusic would pay the bills,” she said, pinning her eyes to mine. “A hell of alot more than your gigs at Black & Brewed.”
Iscoffed. “We both know that playing at a stupid little coffee shop isn’t agig,Kylie,” I countered, putting the bottle down.
Thatcomment brought her chewing to slow to a crawl. Her jaw working angrily aroundthe bite of sandwich, and she shook her head. That place was her pride and joy,the place we built from the ground up. I knew better than to insult it.
Itipped my chin to my chest and sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah,it is, butfirst of all, it isn’t alittlecoffee shop, and second of all, Benjamin Franklin was afreakin’street performer. Did you know that?”
Ishook my head, watching her chew until her jaw was practically screaming forher to stop. “Nah, I didn’t know that.”
