Finding Emotion (The Last Shot Tavern Series)

Chapter 17

Damon hopped down from the stage after he had run through the song enough to feel comfortable with it. It sounded just right after the tweaks he’d added based on Skylar’s suggestion.

Jimmy started packing up. “You’re going to want to rerecord it, aren’t you?”

“You know me too well.” Damon placed his guitar in its case. He was a perfectionist at heart, especially when it came to his music.

“I’ll set it up. There’ll be an expense.” Jimmy sighed, frowning down at the cords he’d collected. “You sure it’s different enough?”

“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.” Damon joined his manager. He never minded helping. “Oh, speaking of expense, can you work with Skylar’s manager to see about chipping in on the suite?”

“That girl is scarily efficient,” Jimmy muttered. “It’s less cute than I thought.”

Damon didn’t laugh, knowing that Jimmy was still hung up on his annoyance from earlier. His manager rarely let things go, despite his careless attitude, which was a facade. Jimmy always cared. “That’s probably for the best,” he said. “Things could have gotten messy if you two hooked up.”

Jimmy stopped packing, leaning back on his heels to glare at Damon. “Seriously? What gives, man? You knew I had it bad for Skylar. I mean, I get you fucked her, but that was all her. She jumps anything that moves.”

Irritation rose as Damon remembered the text message he’d come across on her phone. “Careful, Jimmy.”

“Oh, don’t be a pussy. I’m trying to say that I wasn’t jealous or anything at that point. Hell, her sexual reputation is part of her appeal. But today, man, what was that? Tell me you don’t like her.”

Damon took a breath. “I do. I like her.”

Jimmy scowled at him. “You think you have a chance with her? You?”

Damon leaned back to stare at his manager. “I didn’t expect this to happen, but it has. You know me, Jimmy.” He bit his lip, looking away from his gaze. “I wouldn’t have slept with her if I didn’t like her.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s still kind of bullshit, but I’ll suck it up.” He grabbed for the cords, shoving them into the bag. “But I’m still going to flirt with her and hope. She’s too fucking awesome. I’m sure she fucks like a sex goddess, too, you lucky prick.”

Damon was surprised at his sudden urge to punch the guy. He shoved to his feet, putting some distance between them. He wasn’t a brawler like Malcolm.

“She’ll get bored with you soon enough,” Jimmy continued, packing up the last of the equipment.

Damon crossed his arms as he stared at the stage. He was only annoyed because Jimmy was spot-on. He needed to keep himself in check.

Jimmy was ready to go a short time later. “You want me to drop you at the tavern, right?” He snorted. “For your big date, if she shows up.”

Damon smiled as the anticipation of seeing her again rose. Which was ridiculous. He was in so much trouble.

Jimmy’s head tilted. “It’ll be a good photo op. The fans are eating this up. Want me to make sure some pictures are taken?”

“No,” Damon said, ignoring the way Jimmy looked at him. “Not at Malcolm’s place. He doesn’t need the attention.”

“It’d be advertisement,” Jimmy said. “It was kind of slow in there the other night.”

“Malcolm does well enough.” Damon knew his friend was proud of what he’d built. “Besides, the whole fake dating thing put a lot of pressure on Skylar.”

“Hell, Dame, you’re thinking about this all wrong. This thing could really shoot off your career. You’re tapping into a whole new market.” Jimmy pushed open the outside doors.

The sky was a brighter blue that Damon had expected. He hadn’t been at the venue as long as he thought.

“I’ve been doing just fine.” Damon reached for his phone, intending to shoot off a message about them wrapping up. He frowned at it when he realized he had no way of contacting Skylar directly. “Can you let Mandy know we’re headed there?” He regretted the ask when Jimmy smirked at him.

“You dweeb. She didn’t even give you her digits, did she?” He laughed, but lifted his phone. His humor died. “Great, now I have to contact that ballbuster.”

Damon’s hand tightened on his guitar case. “Her manager was only trying to help this morning.” He bit the inside of his cheek, the sharp copper that followed underlining his annoyance. He’d noticed Jimmy had begun to slack off since the tour ended. Maybe even before that. Damon was so goal-oriented, he couldn’t quite understand it. “Contacting Erin was pretty obvious. Why didn’t you?”

“I had a brain lapse, that’s all.”

Damon forced the words out. “Are you sure?”

Jimmy’s scowl returned. “I got it handled, didn’t I?”

“If something’s going on, you know you can talk to me, right?” Damon tried to catch his eye, but Jimmy stepped ahead. “It just seems—”

“Leave off, Dame,” Jimmy snapped. “You’re not as perfect as you think.”

“I know I’m not.” If Damon hadn’t promised his mom he’d give it his all, he would have thrown in the towel long ago. With every album release, he expected his fans to figure it out, the fact that he was playing pretend.

But Damon loved the music. He was going to cling to it as long as he could.

He studied Jimmy’s profile, expecting the hard edge of his clenched jaw. That meant he’d heard him, at least. They’d found that rhythm over the years. Now that he’d spoken up, Jimmy would shift into the great manager he could be, like he always did. It was Damon’s own fault, letting them become more like friends, but loneliness was a bitch.

Maybe more time at the tavern during this break would be better for him in the long run. Jimmy was being an ass, but he wasn’t wrong about the likely outcome of things with Skylar.

When she wasn’t at the tavern when Damon arrived, he told himself it was a good thing. Malcolm’s welcoming smile eased the knot inside, even if he knew his friend was analyzing his expression like he always did.

“There you are,” Malcolm said. He shoved hair behind his ear before turning to pull a beer. The barest nub of a ponytail held the majority of it back. “Wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.”

“Trenton plied me with baby slobber last night.” Damon remembered how breakable the baby had felt when he’d held her.

Malcolm set the beer on a tray. “I doubt the other guys will make it in.”

“I’m not enough for you?” Damon grinned through the weird twist in his gut.

Malcolm didn’t laugh it off like he expected. “Don’t do that.” His eyes shifted past Damon’s shoulder, the brown going all soft.

Damon turned, studying the woman’s well-defined cheekbones and stubborn chin that resembled a face he’d stared into often lately. Soft, shoulder-length, brown hair and a ready smile set her apart. “Hello, Jami.”

“Wow. Damon Lynch.” To his surprise, a red tinge spread over Jami’s cheeks. Her hands covered them. “Sorry. I’ve listened to all your music.”

Damon blinked at her. “Wait, you’re a fan?”

Jami shrugged. “Well, Skylar mentioned you pretty often over the years. It made me check you out.”

“She did?” Damon ran a hand over the back of his neck. “That surprises me.”

“Now you’re both blushing.” Malcolm pushed the tray toward Jami. “Here. For table seven.”

Jami nodded, grabbing it.

Malcolm watched her. “I guess I’m glad you two didn’t run into each other when she visited Skylar during the tour.”

“Please.” Damon wished he had a drink to hold on to. He needed something to do with his hands. “From what you’ve said, you two were meant for each other since you were teenagers. I can’t believe I never heard about her back then.”

“You got your first break with the band around that time.” Malcolm’s jaw clenched. “And the stuff with Celia happened.” He continued to follow Jami’s progress with his eyes. “Time is a funny thing.”

“Yeah,” Damon agreed. It was strange to realize that it had only taken a few days for him to fall in love with Skylar. He choked as the thought sideswiped him, and he let his head slump to the bar. No, it wasn’t love. He barely knew her. Skylar was way too complicated to understand in mere days. “Fuck, Malcolm. I need a drink.”

Malcolm patted his head. “I’ve got you.” He turned, the bottles behind the bar clinking, but Damon wasn’t ready to look up.

“Is something wrong?” He heard Jami ask Malcolm softly.

“You just made him feel shy.” Malcolm set a glass on the bar near Damon’s hand.

Damon lifted his head to reach for the drink. “Don’t be an ass,” he muttered to his friend.

Malcolm glanced past him before looking at Jami. “It’s slow. Why don’t you sit and talk about his music some more?” His smile spread. “I bet you’ll continue to make him blush.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Jami protested.

Damon patted the seat beside him. “I’ve been wanting to get to know you better. Malcolm wouldn’t fall for just anyone.”

Jami met Malcolm’s gaze with a small smile of her own as she sat.

Malcolm took care of her tables as Damon chatted with Jami about music. Skylar’s sister really was a fan, mentioning songs from every one of his albums. She was into his music much more than him as a rock star, which suited Damon just fine. He wished all his fans were more like that.

Jami lit up when he asked about her classes. She seemed to love college. And writing. He watched Malcolm flush when he admitted he’d agreed to be the cover model for her first romance novel, his hand gripping his barely-there ponytail.

Jami reached across the bar to fiddle with the flyaway strands. “The writing is going slowly enough for you to grow your hair back out.” She sighed. “I really loved his long hair.”

“I got the message.” Malcolm laughed as he turned away to pull more drinks.

“Is writing something you always wanted to do?” Damon asked.

Jami’s fingers found each other where they rested on the bar, twisting together. “Well, sort of. I used to write a lot back when I was a teenager, but I didn’t show it to anyone. I mean, Skylar knew, but my parents wouldn’t have approved.”

Damon remembered how his mother had made him promise to pursue his happiness. Even as much pain as she’d been in, she’d forced smiles and encouraged him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Jami shook her head. “My father was a very logical man, that’s all. At least, before the accident. Then all my focus was on keeping him comfortable.”

“Malcolm told me a bit about that,” Damon admitted.

“Honestly, he never would have noticed the writing, even if I’d been open about it. His eyes were all for my mom.” Jami stared down at her hands. “And her life was all about him. She was very devoted.”

“You mean a zombie,” a voice Damon recognized said from behind them. Skylar gave Jami a one-armed hug before sitting on the other side of her sister.

“You came,” Damon said, wanting to kick himself over the sappy smile that joined his words.

Skylar shrugged. “Nothing better to do.” She grabbed for the bowl of pretzels on the bar. “Be real, Jami. Mom found a man and became pathetic.” She crunched on a pretzel before making a face and pushing them away. “Shit, Mandy will let me have it if I gobble these. Take them away, Muscles.”

Malcolm came over to retrieve the bowl. “Can I get you anything?”

“Seltzer and whatever this one’s favorite food is.” Skylar bumped her shoulder against her sister’s. “As long as the sugar won’t kill me.”

“Sweet potato fries,” Jami murmured. “You can have them hold the brown sugar butter.”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Skylar grinned. “An order of those.”

Malcolm nodded, his gaze shifting to Damon. “Food?”

“Maybe in a little bit,” Damon muttered. His hand tightened around his glass. He’d been sipping at the Patrón, but was still on his second. Suddenly the idea of scarfing a loaded burger in front of Skylar felt wrong.

“Mom wasn’t pathetic,” Jami cut in, frowning at her sister. “She was very happy with her life.”

Skylar shrugged. “I didn’t say she wasn’t happy. She just wasn’t really there for us. Shit, Jame, you’re the one I have the most memories of, even before the accident.”

“Well,” Jami said, but she didn’t seem to have any words to follow it. She stared down at her hands again.

“Oh, except that time I found Mom’s guitar!” Skylar sighed as she leaned against the back of her stool, resting her arm over it as she gave it a little swing. “Remember? I was looking for something for some school project in the attic and found that wooden beauty. I couldn’t believe it had been Mom’s.”

“She’d stopped playing while you were still little,” Jami said. “I had forgotten until you pulled it out.”

“I was surprised when she let me keep it. Best present I ever got from her.” Skylar smiled.

Damon liked the soft tilt of her lips. “Do you still have it?” he asked.

The smile disappeared. “Ah, no.” She reached for the glass Malcolm dropped off. “I’m not sentimental like that.”

“Was it still in the attic when…?” Jami swallowed. “The fire didn’t take it, did it?”

“Nah, I had it with me when I took off.” Skylar chugged some of her sparkling water. “Let’s talk about other shit, okay?”

Laughter broke out by the door, and Jami looked over her shoulder. “I should get back on shift,” she said, scrambling up. “The dinner crowd is starting to show up.” She patted her sister’s shoulder before moving toward the entrance.

“My sis the waitress,” Skylar murmured. “Fuck, she was almost valedictorian.”

Damon flushed as he remembered he’d almost had that title as well. “She seems happy.”

They both watched Malcolm join her. The pair of them made quick work of getting the sudden crowd settled.

Skylar waved a hand at his friend. “Well, Muscles rocked her world. Though I’m happy she’s pursuing her own thing too.” She snorted, swiveling back to face the bar. “Hell, she was always into all that romance crap, both reading it and writing it. Drove our mom nuts.”

“It did?” Damon still couldn’t quite get a picture of the woman.

“She told Jami reading smut set unrealistic expectations for love. Mom was a weird one. She was all in when it came to our dad, but she’d settled for him too.” Skylar folded her arms on the bar, resting her head on them as she looked at Damon. “My favorite memory was when I nagged her into playing that guitar. She only did it once. She was good.”

“Sounds like she inspired you. My mom did that for me.”

“Momma’s boy,” Skylar murmured, but there was no sneer.

Damon hated the empty seat between them. He nudged his glass over as he switched stools.

“Can’t stay away, huh?” Skylar asked, her arm blocking the edge of her smirk.

“Well, this is kind of our first date.” Damon’s heartbeat sped up just from saying it, which was stupid.

She straightened, blinking at him. “Oh, shit, you’re right.” Her gaze skimmed around the bar before she reached for her glass, lifting it toward him. “To firsts,” she said, clinking it against his when he lifted it. She leaned closer without taking a drink. “We’ve had a few of those already, haven’t we?”

“Neither of us were virgins, Skylar,” Damon said. Her scent distracted him. She smelled like flowers again.

Her finger found his cheek. “There’s that cute blush. I meant, first times together.”

A basket was placed in front of her. “I thought things between you weren’t serious,” Malcolm said. Those sharp eyes of his lingered on Damon.

“Oh, do we look serious?” Skylar asked. She reached over, her hand going for Damon’s pocket.

“What?” he sputtered, but she’d gone for his phone. Tingles still crawled over his thighs from her brief touch.

“Oh, expecting something dirtier?” Skylar winked at him as she passed the phone to Malcolm. Then her arm wrapped around Damon’s neck, dragging him closer. “Let’s get a pic for your social media people. Your fans will like the scoop better than mine.”

“Sure,” Damon murmured, wondering what his face looked like when Malcolm snapped the picture. He reached for his drink after she released him, pausing as he remembered Skylar didn’t drink.

She was grabbing a fry. Her eyes closed when she took the first bite. “Fuck, this is fried deliciousness. I’m gonna want more.”

Malcolm smiled. “That can be arranged. Just let me know.” He left Damon’s phone on top of the bar as he went to pull some beers for other customers.

Skylar glanced at Damon as she reached for a second fry. “Not eating, sweet face?” She pulled the basket a little closer. “‘Cause I’m not sharing.”

Damon leaned toward her. Tonight her eyes appeared more green, with bits of blue and brown. “Not even one? Even if I ask nicely?”

Her eyes narrowed, but the softer smile was back. “Fine. Half.” She held the bitten off sweet potato fry out to him.

Damon’s lips brushed her fingers as he took it. “Mmm,” he said, swallowing. “It’s better with the butter, I bet.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said with a groan.

The sound affected him, and he forced himself not to picture tempting her in a different way. He cleared his throat. “So, if I ordered a burger with all the fixings, would that be a problem?”

She shook her head. “You do you.” She reached over, tapping his hand on his glass. “With this too. It pisses me off when people act like they can’t drink around me.” Her fingers stroked over his before she pulled back. “Besides, I might be considering taking advantage of you later.” She went for her fries again, but her eyes had lost their shine. “I bet you’re even more adorable drunk.”

Damon lifted his drink to his lips, the tequila burning as he finished it. He studied her, picking up on her sudden nerves. He had his own suspicions about where they came from. His gut twisted at not knowing how bad it had been, but he’d been honest with her the night before. Only Skylar should choose what she shared and when.

He grabbed Malcolm’s attention to order the burger and switched to soda as well. He expected Skylar’s scowl.

“Didn’t I say—”

Damon leaned closer to her. “I need my wits around you,” he murmured. It was true enough. Skylar was impossible to pin down.

And there wasn’t an awkward silence with her at his side. Damon enjoyed the way her mind flew through different topics. She tried to hide it, but her love for music was similar to his own. Their evening at the tavern was simple, fun, and the best date he’d ever had.

“You know, I think I kind of like you,” Skylar said. She’d propped her head on her hand as she considered him.

Damon shouldn’t have been so damn happy about it. “Thanks. I like you too.”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a compliment, not exactly. And of course you like me. I’ve rocked your world. All guys enjoy repeating that.”

Damon frowned. “No, not that. I meant—”

“Skylar,” her manager said from behind them.

Skylar swiveled toward her. She took in the mostly empty tavern. “Wow, I didn’t realize we’d been here that long. Sorry, Mandy, did you come to get me?”

“No need to apologize, but yes.” Her manager didn’t have the normal calm around her that Damon had come to expect. She was frowning. “I decided this shouldn’t wait.”

Skylar stiffened. “Fuck, is it him?”

The pronoun slid under Damon’s ribs. His fist clenched on his thigh while he studied the familiar pinched look on Skylar’s face.

“Not exactly.” Mandy’s eyes shifted to Damon.

“Wait, this affects Damon?” Skylar slid off the stool. “I figured it was just that fucking tour again.”

Mandy’s lips pressed together. “You’re not wrong. And no, I doubt this will impact Mr. Lynch. You and I should go over a few things.”

“Sure.” Skylar’s eyes slid to him, and she forced a smile. Her hands had moved to her pockets, and there was a tension to her shoulders.

“I’ll close us out here. You go ahead,” Damon offered. Questions pushed at his throat, but he swallowed them.

“Yeah, okay.” Skylar hesitated, her gaze searching his. “It wasn’t my worst date.”

Damon nodded. “Mine either,” he returned, but her smile remained brittle, her mind no longer on him.

She didn’t touch him as she shifted away from the bar and strode after her manager toward the exit.

“What was that about?” Malcolm asked.

Damon shrugged. “Skylar’s not exactly an open book.”

Malcolm nodded his agreement. “But you are.”

Damon flushed under his gaze. “Don’t say it.” He’d probably looked like a whipped puppy the whole time.

Malcolm’s attention flicked to the door. “I’m just a bit surprised. I wouldn’t have said she was your type.”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “I have a type?”

“Hell, Dame, you’re a big old softy inside.”

“That’s rich, coming from the biggest softy of our group.”

“I’ve got my rough spots.” Malcolm reached for his empty glass.

“You’ve always taken care of all of us.” Damon rubbed his damp hand against his jeans. It was ridiculous, his nerves. “Is it so bad that I kind of want to take care of someone?”

“Not bad,” Malcolm murmured. “I felt that way about Celia. It’s amazing, the person she’s becoming. I don’t regret making her my priority for as long as I did.” His eyes shifted, and his face got that new look. “With Jami, it’s different. Yeah, I want to take care of her, but she takes care of me too.”

Damon stared at his friend.

Malcolm shifted, his hand reaching for his ponytail again. “Damn, that sounded weak, didn’t it?”

“No. You’re in love.” The word made his breath catch in his throat.

“Yeah,” Malcolm agreed, glancing at Jami again before he started collecting glasses.

Damon sighed, shoving away from the bar. “I should get back.”

“Good luck,” Malcolm said. When Damon paused, Malcolm smiled at him. “You’re going to need it.”

Damon couldn’t disagree.