“Of course you are.” Oliver steps aside, allowing Lucy to hook her arm through Toni's.
Toni looks back at me, face colored with surprise and not a small amount of delight. I chuckle awkwardly and mouth, “Sorry,”as Lucy whisks her out the door.
CHAPTER 6
Toni
“What're your opinions on drummers?”Lucy asks once we're outside.
“I don't know if I have one.” Laughter colors my words, and my cheeks are genuinely starting to ache from smiling.
When my date didn't respond to my earlier text, I had to admit I was relieved. I'd rather spend the evening people watching and sketching while sipping on a gin cocktail than field the real-life version of his attempts at conversation. In no way did I expect I'd happily find myself on the arm of Cillian's best friend, letting her take me to a show.
“You will after tonight,” Lucy declares.
“Whether or not that will be a good thing...” Oliver says, walking backward to better show off his cringe face.
Lucy slows our pace. “Cillian, will you take over escorting our guest? I need to shove a drumstick up Oliver's ass.” Laughter pings off the walls of the buildings flanking the side street we'd turned down as Lucy brandishes a drumstick like a switchblade, slashing at Oliver.
“I am so sorry about them,” Cillian says. Despite his words, a warm smile glows on his face.
“They're kind of delightful.”
“Don't tell them that. They'll never let it go.”
I recognize the small parking lot we enter as being the one behind Two Sons. Cillian's car even sits in the same place. It hits me that I actually have no idea where this show I’m being dragged off to is.
“Is the venue far?” I ask.
He looks confused for half a second. “Oh! No, it's...just the bar.” He huffs an awkward half-laugh, running a hand through his hair.
“That's convenient,” I say, kicking myself for how uncomfortable I sound. “To have a place to play whenever you want, that is.”
He shrugs. “It's easier than playing other places, that’s for sure. Which we do sometimes.”
No one could be blamed for assuming we'd never spoken, much less had wildly fantastic sex a couple of weeks ago. Neither of us seems capable of making eye contact, our bodies tense, leaning away from one another.
This was a bad idea.
“I don't need to tag along,” I say. My attempt at nonchalance falling flat. “If you'd rather I didn't, I totally?—”
“No!” Cillian says so suddenly, it surprises me. “I mean, if you don't want—I know Lucy can be a bit of a steamroller and?—”
A laugh bursts from my lips before I can stop it, the absolute absurdity of this exchange catching up with me. Cillian, rather than looking offended, joins in.
“Jesus Christ.” He wipes a tear. “I'm sorry. I promise I'm capable of half-decent communication most days.”
“Personally, I can't make those kinds of promises.” I catch my breath.
“I'd like you to stay for the show. If you want.”
I study him for a beat, trying to find any lie, any indicationthat he was just being nice. All I find is that the smoky black liner he wears makes his eyes even more beautiful.
“I do want.”
“Good.” He opens a metal door, and I realize Lucy and Oliver had already headed inside. “Temper your expectations, though. We're just a cover band.”
“My only expectation is that Lucy will blow me away.” I blow her a kiss as I walk in. She catches it, pressing her closed fist to her chest.
