Love and Music (Small Town Secrets Book 3), page 5
Fuck. My heart was thudding in my chest. I needed to figure out an excuse to get the hell out of here now.
All. Bets. Were. Off.
“Uh…”
I drained my drink, realizing my hand was shaking, and tried to force my feet to move. But they weren’t budging. And Tyler’s eyes locked with mine, so now there was no graceful escape. I was a gazelle he’d spied across the plain, and now all he had to do was move forward.
Mike gave me a slight smile. “Megan, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Not a ghost—but the sensation, I was sure, felt much the same. And now there was no fucking escape.
Chapter Six
“Megan. Megan Katrina Walker.”
Holy shit. I couldn’t help the grin that crossed my face. How the hell had he remembered my middle name?
“Tyler Maximus Green.” And how had I remembered his?
“And Mike Hardy, right?”
Mike smiled, sticking out his hand. “Good to see you, Tyler. Of course, you’d find the ex first.”
“Why not?”
I could barely breathe. Tyler in person, famous or not, was a sight to behold. Yeah, I’d seen recent pictures of him online, but him in the flesh was entirely different. Unlike a lot of metal stars, Tyler’s dark hair was short. It was a little darker than it had been in high school, almost black, but it looked good on him. And my favorite part, his dark brown eyes, so dark it was sometimes hard to differentiate the irises from the pupils, were still as mesmerizing as ever.
In fact, his eyes had been the sole cause of me losing my virginity. Well, that and a few heavy make-out sessions in the back of his car.
And that fucking smile. Focused on me, those pearly whites nearly made my knees buckle.
What—was I seventeen again?
None of the pictures I’d seen of Tyler over the past decade had done him any justice. As a boy, he’d been irresistible. That charm was ten times as potent now.
And, suddenly, I felt inadequate.
But Tyler kept talking as I drowned in those unbelievable eyes. “Megan and I aren’t just exes, Mike. We’re old friends, too, and it’s high time we reconnect.”
In my head, I could hear the sound effect of squealing tires on hot asphalt braking suddenly. Any sense of nostalgia or puppy love that had overtaken me ground to a sudden halt—and it was probably better that way. Tyler’s words told me that he no longer thought of me as his ex-girlfriend. I was now in the friend zone, just like my friend Mike had been with me.
This is good, though. Now I wouldn’t be reliving teenage sex or stupid shit like that in my head all night. Maybe seeing Tyler again was the closure I’d needed all these years. I was even wondering as I stood there if I’d been holding him up on a pedestal over the past decade and, therefore, no other man had a chance with me.
I might even thank Lisa later for dragging me along.
No. No, I wouldn’t. It would only encourage her behavior in the future.
And, by the way, where the hell was she?
There was no mistaking Tyler’s magnetic energy as he stood next to me. I wondered if that was due to stardom or if he’d always been that way, but I could actually feel his presence. And when he took me into an embrace, I was done for. He was strong and firm all over, and his spicy cologne filled my nostrils and my imagination, putting my senses on overdrive.
But, ultimately, I felt pissed off about the whole thing, and I wiggled out of his embrace. “Well, I’m glad you were able to fit me into your whirlwind schedule, Tyler. Nice to reconnect.” I couldn’t help that that particular word left a bad taste in my mouth. “And nice catching up with you, too, Mike. I think it’s time to refill my drink. Have a good time, guys.”
As I walked away, proud of myself, cool as a fucking cucumber, I was growing even more pissed that I’d actually noticed how beefy Tyler’s bicep was as it peeked out from under the sleeve of his black t-shirt.
Oh…and the motherfucking tattoo sleeves.
Goddamn him for being just as fucking good looking as ever.
And for pushing me into a friends-only corner right off the bat.
Maybe that meant he did have a serious relationship in the works. But what if the shoe had been on the other foot? What if it had been me shoving him in the friend zone?
No, it wouldn’t have been me—and I hadn’t realized it until Lisa had forced me to face what I’d been denying all along. I still loved this guy, had since high school, and until I could completely let his memory go, I was going to be miserable. So, really, I should have thanked him, because knowing there were absolutely no embers, no spark, no warmth assured me that carrying a torch was useless. It was time to move on.
As I strolled toward the bar, feeling their eyes following me, I hoped I wasn’t moving too quickly. I knew I needed to look casual and uncaring to pull it off. It didn’t help that, after seeing the man and kind of getting my hopes up, I’d actually wanted to talk to him about his music. I thought I could ask him about the inspiration or ideas behind songs like “Kerosene Sunday,” “Loose Cannon,” and “Limitless Man.” I’d listened to the words over and over again and had come up with my own thoughts—but to have the actual writer sit down with me and tell me what he’d been thinking when he’d penned the lyrics of such incredible tunes…that would have been amazing.
I was pretty sure I knew what “Kerosene Sunday” was about—a bonfire over homecoming weekend our senior year—but the words were vague enough that I could be wrong. The man himself could have told me if I’d bothered to ask, but now I’d never know.
And I was okay with that. Another Sex on the Beach would assure my acceptance.
Standing in line at the bar, I had to fight the urge to mutter, “Just friends, huh?” That phrase kept rolling around in my head, but I needed to move past it.
Maybe one more drink and then I’d go outside for a breath of fresh air before getting an Uber home. And then, starting tomorrow, I’d figure out my life without Tyler in the brain. How the hell had I never realized he’d been taking up so much space in there?
When I sucked a breath in through my nostrils and looked down at my glass, I didn’t notice that the bartender was trying to get my attention. “That bad, huh?”
I looked up. “Bad? No, I’m good.”
“And yet you’re here for another drink.”
“That obvious?”
“Yeah.” He was already mixing up a refill for me, and I hadn’t even had to ask. “Would it make it better if this one was on the house?”
Smiling, I was grateful that this guy was turning out to be nice after all was said and done. “I appreciate it but I can’t help but wonder if this will be the first step in my developing a drinking problem.”
He gave me a courtesy chuckle while he continued mixing my drink. “I wonder how many drinking problems started out at high school reunions.” I raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’m in a unique position to begin research.”
“Sure, but how many people would willingly divulge that information?”
“With enough drinks, folks will give up just about anything to their friendly bartender. I know this from experience.”
My smile felt like a ninety-pound weakling trying to bench press as I paid for the concoction. “Guess that means I better cut myself off after this one.”
He laughed, and I decided to stay right in this spot and nurse my drink. Then I’d call a cab. I glanced over to the left, sipping from the cool beverage while keeping my eyes away from where I’d left Tyler and Mike. But then, of course, I saw someone else I could’ve gone my entire life without ever seeing again.
Tamara Dickens.
If any person I’d encountered in my life could be called my enemy, that would be Tamara, hands down. But maybe she’d changed.
Ha. Zebras don’t lose their stripes, and Tamara surely hadn’t lost the je ne sais quoi that made her the bitch she surely continued to be today. In fact, I would have been surprised if she hadn’t fully embraced it and become a modern-day real-life Cruella de Vil. Based on her skin-tight black and white top and sky-high heels, not to mention her perfectly coiffed black hair framing an overly made-up face, I figured she might have stepped it up a few notches, having chosen to look the part.
People change, Megan. But did they really? I knew that I had changed over the past decade but, deep down, I was still the same person. I somehow doubted Tamara and I could be best friends nowadays.
And, speaking of, where the fuck was my bestie?
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Megan Walker.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I knew that was only because I’d known it in years past. I couldn’t put a face with the voice until I turned, though.
It took me a second to recall.
This guy’s name was Billy Prescott and he’d been the starting quarterback for the Winchester Bulldogs our senior year. He’d always been a breathtakingly gorgeous guy. Unfortunately, he also knew it, so he’d been full of himself back in the day. Unlike a lot of egotistical kids, though, Billy had a right to be, because he’d managed to take the Bulldogs to the playoffs that year—and we almost won. Billy had gotten a scholarship to play football somewhere, but damned if I could remember the university. Like most of the kids I’d gone to school with, I hadn’t given them much thought since embarking on my own journey to adulthood.
“Billy! So good to see you. How’ve you been?”
He didn’t need to tell me he’d been better. If I had to guess, he would lose all his dishwater blond hair by forty—and he was also working on a bit of a beer belly. It wasn’t bad now, but by the next reunion, the battle might be lost.
“Not bad. What about you, little lady?”
Little lady? If I’d already finished the drink in my hand, I might not have been able to stop myself from saying out loud what I was thinking—that I was neither little nor a lady. But mostly sober Megan still knew how to play nice and saw the value in it. While I took a sip of my drink, I continued looking Billy over. He had a tan—and a wedding band. Maybe if we talked about family stuff, he’d be less inclined to ruffle my feathers.
Tucking that thought in the back of my head, I willed my muscles to relax a bit. “Can’t complain.” Other than being here, of course. “So what have you been up to since high school?”
Something about the way he answered the question told me he’d already had multiple beers. “Y’know, I’m getting tired of answering that damn question.”
Well, this was going south fast. I took another gulp of my drink and forced a smile. “Maybe they should have sent out biographies to everyone before tonight.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“But you know, just like in high school, there’d be people here who wouldn’t have done their homework—meaning you’d have to answer that question anyway.”
“Guess you’re right.” He took a long draw off his beer. “I’m an assistant high school football coach. Me and the wife live in Colorado Springs. Two kids and a third one cooking in the oven.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“You know—bun in the oven.”
Ah, yes. Another slightly chauvinistic comment. Wouldn’t want to leave that out. I resisted the urge to ask if she was also barefoot, but I didn’t think Billy would get the nuance of my statement.
At least we had a slight conversation going, right? “What do you teach?”
“History.” I was pretty sure Billy and I had taken U.S. History together, and I didn’t remember him being a particularly good student in that subject—but, I supposed, that didn’t mean much of anything. Being a coach was probably the part of his job that he enjoyed. “What about you, Miss Megan? What have you been up to?”
“I’m the assistant librarian here in town.”
“You don’t look like a librarian.”
I wasn’t going to ask what a librarian was supposed to look like. “If you like reading, it’s a great gig.”
I was pretty sure reading had never been one of Billy’s things.
“No kids or anything?”
I shook my head, taking another drink. There wasn’t much left in the glass and, when it was empty, I was out of here. The sooner, the better. “Nope.”
“I’ve been trying to teach my kids on the offense how to make the big plays. Like that time during the playoffs? You remember how it looked like I snapped the ball to the running back—but instead ran it in for a touchdown?” I nodded, not really remembering. I was pretty sure I’d seen the game, but that didn’t mean it was a cherished memory. “Best goddamned moment of my life. If they would’ve let me play more in college, I could have wowed the shit out of the people who count.”
I felt a little sorry for him then. Billy’s life had obviously not gone the way he’d dreamed. Finishing his beer, he reached over to set the bottle on the bar and got closer to me, close enough that I could smell the malt and hops on his breath. As he pulled his lower lip into his mouth, he allowed his eyes to drop to my mouth before moving lower, and it took everything inside me to not visibly squirm.
Raising an eyebrow the and almost looking ten years younger, Billy flashed a cocky smirk, as if he already knew what I was thinking.
Oh, but he did not.
“Megan, what say you and me blow this joint, and I give you the chance to say you sacked the quarterback?”
Should I be flattered? No, definitely not—but I didn’t know if I should be offended instead. Setting aside that he had a woman back at home who was carrying his third child, I knew I was probably not the first woman Billy had hit on tonight—and I definitely wouldn’t be the last. I might have felt a little sorry for the guy, but that didn’t mean I was going to comfort him. “Thanks, Billy, but I think I’ll pass.”
He scrutinized me for a second. “Is that a football joke?” I opened my mouth to answer, but his eyes focused behind me, and I resisted the urge to turn. “Oh, shit. I should have known.”
What the hell was he talking about?
Then, I moved my head to the side to see what Billy was talking about—and that was when Tyler flooded my vision. He was sidling up next to me. Whether or not he knew it, Tyler was playing the role of knight in shining armor.
So we’d send Billy packing—and then I’d call a fucking cab.
Chapter Seven
One of the things I wondered about my ex: had he always been this clueless about taking a hint? Even though, deep down, I was grateful that he was rescuing me, I didn’t want Tyler thinking I was all his for the evening.
After all, I had a date with an awesome book. Which one, I didn’t know yet, but I had a stack by my bed, not to mention the virtual ones in my reading app. There would definitely be one far more interesting than this evening full of nauseous nostalgia.
“The star quarterback. How’ve you been, man?”
Billy stuck out his hand and shook Tyler’s. “Great. You?”
“Same. What’ve you been up to?”
Pressing my lips together, I remembered how Billy had all but bitten my head off when I’d asked the same question. But Tyler, a man, didn’t get the same reaction. Maybe that should have surprised me. Had I cared about being here, I might have gotten on a soapbox. But I just wanted to get the hell out of here.
“Just raising a family. So you finally got a band going?”
Tyler smiled, and damned if it didn’t make my knees feel a little weak. But I had to ignore my physical reactions. “You listen to Madversary?”
“No—but don’t take it personally. The only time I was ever into that headbanging shit was when I was lifting.”
Weights? I fought the urge to tell him he might want to take it up again, considering his belly.
“To each his own.” Tyler turned his attention to me momentarily. “I’m curious as to what you think, oh, lovely metal critic.” Billy raised an eyebrow, and I could tell he was looking for a way out of our conversation. Much as I wanted to go home, at least this guy not propositioning me was better than nothing. Tyler looked at Billy to explain and make him part of the inside joke so he wouldn’t feel left out. “Back in school, Meg and I used to listen to new albums together. And she never held back an opinion.”
A memory came flooding back—sitting in the front seat of Tyler’s car, listening to new tunes, with me scrunching up my nose, saying the band should have spent another month in the studio. Back then, Tyler had told me I was harsh.
Ah, what would he think now that I had a decade of cynicism as the cherry on top?
“Yeah, I guess I could see that about her.” Oh, no, he could not—but I was far too polite to say that. And why the hell was he talking about me like I wasn’t even there? As if he could hear my inner ranting, Billy smiled but it seemed strained. “Hey, Megan, whatever happened to that friend of yours? Lisa?”
Everyone wanted to see Lisa. “She’s around here somewhere.”
He nodded, and we all stood in an awkward silence for several long seconds. “I think I need another beer. Good seein’ you guys.”
“Yeah. You, too.”
I bit my tongue hard for multiple reasons. Billy’s barely cloaked misogyny wouldn’t affect me after this weekend—nor did his possible struggle with alcoholism and weight gain—so anything I’d say would only foment hard feelings. And to what purpose? My words wouldn’t cause Billy to take a good, hard look at himself nor decide to change his ways, so why bother?
And why the fuck was I here even contemplating any of that shit?
Dammit, Lisa!
When Billy was out of earshot, I asked Tyler, “I suppose you want to reconnect with Lisa, too?”
His infectious grin was killing me. I had to get the hell out of here ASAP.
“I figured you guys were still close. I’ll get my chance. Just flyin’ under the radar here, biding my time.”
“Well, I’m really glad you’ve been working on a side gig as a comedian. How’s that working out for you?” Oh. That came out a little too nasty sounding.
