Beau keeps my hand in his under the metal table as Ryan introduces his husband and two women from my yoga class with their significant others. Apparently, it’s tradition to come here after I bend them into weird shapes.
Normally, I fade into the background in a crowd, but Ryan keeps the conversation flowing. I had no idea he worked in the medical field as a nurse. Penny, another regular from my class, introduces her wife as a sonogram tech. I’m deep into a conversation with her about our baby nieces when a towering figure walks through the side door.
My heart drops.
Again, I have to question if this is a mirage brought on by the Texas heat or if I’m stuck in some sort of strange dream. That can’t be Liam walking toward us, sunglasses on and black tee fitted to his muscled form, right? I haven’t seen him out in the real world for anything but music and workouts.
A tidal wave of nerves crashes over me. What will the group think about my two “friends?” I wish I could say I don’t care about outside opinions on my life choices, but unfortunately, my confidence has been eroded by the suffocating pressure of a strict upbringing and bad friendships.
“Hope you don’t mind. I invited him,” Beau leans over to whisper.
I don’t speak as Liam drags out the empty chair on my other side. A table of captivated eyes watches as he pushes up his sunglasses and sits down.
Those curious gazes soon turn to me when Liam rests his arm along the back of my chair.
Seeming to realize I’m floundering for words, Ryan comes to my rescue. “Dear god, Stasi. I think you just became my new favorite person.”
Laughter breaks loose, and then introductions happen again for Liam’s sake. He’s perfectly polite, if not quieter than me. We’re both exercising muscles we don’t normally use, all thanks to the smiling man on my left.
After dining on pancake flights and fresh-pressed juice for two hours, Ryan checks his watch and complains about weekend chores that need to get done. The other couples soon drift off as well to start their days.
I glance at Liam. “Are we doing this?”
There’s a calm determination in his eyes. “If that’s what you want. I’m willing to try.”
Swallowing, I look over at Beau, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention. He’s slouched in the chair, eyes closed and head tilted back like a lizard baking in the heat.
A soft laugh breaks free from me. “You really are a Phoenix boy.”
“Born and raised, baby.”
I have a thought to ask if he misses it. Time at home is precious when your career is in music.
Shouldn’t he be out touring?
Beau’s head tilts my way. “Hey, pretty girl.”
Shoving down my sadness, I force a weak smile. “Hi, Beau.”
“You come here often?”
“Nope. This weirdo dragged me here and cleaned my plate.”
Beau jerks upright, his expression twisting. “Shit. I’m sorry. I thought you said you were done. We can order you more food—”
“I’m teasing, Beau. I offered you my last pancake.”
Blowing out a breath, he drops his forehead to the table. “And here I thought I’d fucked it all up.”
Liam chuckles. Pushing up from his chair, he says, “Gotta get back to work. You're coming to the studio, Stas.”
My smile grows at his demand. “Yeah.”
I expect Beau to hop in Liam’s car as we walk to the parking lot, but for some reason, he climbs into my passenger seat instead.
What would it take to convince him to stay? Is that fair to ask when I've witnessed firsthand how much Hail and Liam fought for their musical careers?
Burying those thoughts, I hold out my phone with Spotify pulled up. “Put on your band. I wanna hear you play.”
