Chapter 10
TEN
RONAN
Iglanced at the time in the corner of my computer screen at my desk in the studio. “It’s four in the morning, Drew. I think we should call it a night.” We were stuck anyway.
“You sure?” He thumped a few notes on his bass while he stood next to me.
“I’m sure.” Slumping in my desk chair, my gaze followed the squiggly lines in my recording software as they ran across the screen. “I think we’ll leave this to the sound engineer when we bring it into the studio. They’ll be able to clean up that riff better than me.”
“I’d have to agree.” With a sigh, he swung the guitar strap over his head and placed his bass in a stand in the room's corner. “Are we working again tomorrow, or do you need time to let this one simmer?”
I chewed my thumbnail. Occasionally, pausing for a day allowed a song to develop. This might be the time. “Let’s meet the day after tomorrow.” A smirk teased my lips, and I swiveled in the chair to face him. “Then we can watch the next game together again.”
“Oh, boy…” Shaking his head, he scoffed a laugh. “You’ve got it bad for this hockey player.” He arched a brow. “I’ve never seen you get so upset over a minor cut.”
“It was more than a cut, Drew.” I lifted my chin and crossed my arms over my chest. “If he gets injured, they could take him out of the game. And if that happens, he might return to the AHL.” We’d already been over this.
“Yeah, but it was a cut.” Wrinkling his forehead, he said, “He didn’t tear an ACL.” Expelling a long breath, he said, “Anyway, I’m out.” He stepped toward the door and stopped, resting his hand on the jamb. “What time do you want me here?”
“The game starts at six, so how about five-thirty?” I raised the corner of my mouth. “I’ll barbecue some steaks.”
“Sure.” He tapped the door jamb. “By the way, Jax should join us.”
“Yeah, but not yet.” I pulled my lips sideways. I wasn’t sure I wanted Jax to know about Evan yet. Jax tended to run off at the mouth.
“Soon, though, okay?” He left.
The next afternoon, I sat on the patio with my coffee, watching the birds flit in the trees and Bean sniff at the bushes.
I’d slept in until almost one, so this was my morning.
Would Evan be at his hotel yet? San Jose wasn’t a long flight.
I sipped my coffee and glanced at my phone, resting on a cushion next to me.
The phone buzzed with Evan scrolling across the top.
“Think of the devil…” With a soft grin, I answered the call and set the phone on speaker. “Hey, Evan. How’s the chin?” I still couldn’t believe he’d taken that hit last night.
“It’s fine. Almost healed.” He chuckled. “Nah, I’ll bandage it tonight, but it’s okay. I’m just lucky the stick didn’t hit me in the mouth and knock my teeth out.”
I’d heard about hockey players losing teeth, but never considered how it happened. “If you had, would you wait until after the playoffs to fix them?” I patted the cushion next to me as Bean trotted toward me. He’d want to sit beside me.
Bean hopped onto the patio sofa and plopped down, his butt resting against my thigh.
“Probably. Why repair them if there’s still a risk of them getting knocked out again before the playoffs end?”
“Makes sense.” Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about such things in my profession. The worst might be to fall off a stage or trip over a wire some idiot hadn’t taped properly. I drank more coffee and then asked, “So, what’s on the agenda for today since the game isn’t until tomorrow?”
“Rest, nutrition, hydration, and team meetings. Some guys are playing Call of Duty with each other from their rooms.” He released a soft snort. “This team really loves that game. My last team always wanted to play Fortnite.”
“Oh.” I thought back on my days on the bus. “I don’t play video games. I’d rather work on lyrics. Our drummer likes them, though. I think he plays Grand Theft Auto.” Hell, I wasn’t positive about that.
“Yeah?” He sighed. “Where are you?”
This could be a loaded question. With a coy grin, I said, “I’m on my back patio, drinking my coffee…in my underwear.” Shit, if this turned dirty, I’d have to shoo Bean away.
“In your underwear? Not the lace—”
“No, not the lace. I have standard boxer briefs on.” Shit, would he think I was lazy if I told him I’d just rolled out of bed? “I just woke up. I was working late on music with Drew.” I lived like a vampire sometimes.
He choked on a laugh. “Are you serious? I’ve been up since six.”
“Well, you had somewhere to be this morning, and I didn’t.” I scratched Bean behind the ears. “And you went to bed early.” If they won and he had a week off, I might have to adjust my schedule.
“Yeah, I get it. Do you always sleep that late? Or is it just when you’re working with Drew?”
I inhaled deeply. “Truthfully? When we’re on the road, we have some late nights as well. A gig might extend until midnight, and then there are the after-parties.” I had lived the rock star cliché.
“Oh, wow, so I guess the term party like a rockstar has a real meaning behind it.” He snickered.
“I’m so wound up after a gig, it’s impossible to sleep anyway, so we’ll hit a bar or party in a hotel suite, depending on where we are or the situation.” It must be similar for him. After sipping my coffee, I said, “Aren’t you wound up after a game?”
“Yeah, but we have cooldown routines and it’s also exhausting.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll admit, there are some nights when we hit a bar after a game and party.”
Nodding, I said, “Okay, so, you know what it’s like.”
“What are your plans for today? More songs with Drew?”
“No, I’ll putter around the house today and maybe take Bean on a long walk.” I patted Bean’s ass. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, buddy?”
Bean lifted his head, giving me an inquisitive look.
“So, you can do that and not worry about people recognizing you?” he asked.
“Mostly, yes. Around here, I find people are nice, and if they recognize me, they might ask for a selfie or an autograph, but they don’t get crazy on me.
” Not like in smaller towns where celebrity sightings were rare.
With a quick laugh, I said, “Our fans aren’t like BTS fans. They’re a lot more mellow.”
“That’s good. I’d hate to beat a guy off you—” His breath hitched. “I mean, you know.”
My stomach fluttered. “You mean you’d be jealous of a fan?” I rubbed Bean’s soft ear between my fingers. What would happen when I hit the road again? Would I still be seeing Evan?
“I…yeah, I guess I would,” he said. “Listen, I’m in the hallway and the guys are flagging me down to join them in their video game.”
“So, you need to go. Okay.” Just when the conversation was getting interesting. “I’ll do your exercises today.” I hadn’t gotten around to it yesterday.
“Good. If you do them consistently, it should really help your back.” Footsteps clomped through the connection. “Tomorrow will be busy if we win, so I don’t know—”
“Don’t worry about me. You celebrate your win with your teammates and have a good time.” I tilted my coffee mug and peered into it. It was almost empty, and I felt like a second cup today. “Just maybe text me at some point. I want to see you when you get back.”
“Yeah, the timing will depend on tomorrow’s game, but I’d like to see you,” he said. “Maybe spend the night if we win?”
“Spend the night?” Holy shit, that was fast. I’d had hookups spend the night, though. But this felt different. It felt important.
“Sorry, I don’t have to if you’re not cool with it. I was just thinking how nice your backyard would be in the morning, and I sort of wish I were there to have coffee with you now.” He huffed. “Shit, I feel like I’m digging a deeper hole.”
“No, please, keep digging. You’re welcome to stay the night. We could make it low-key.” I glanced at my fire pit. The nights were still cool enough to enjoy it. “Yes, whatever works for you.”
“Okay.” In a muffled voice, he said, “I’m coming. Never mind who I’m talking to.” His voice became clear again. “Sorry, I have to go, and now they’re chirping at me.”
“Of course. Play well tomorrow and I can’t wait to see you win.” I drank the last of my coffee. Should I drink another cup, or dress and take Bean on that walk? More coffee.
“Bye. Talk to you soon.” He ended the call.
The next evening, I seasoned the steaks and checked the potatoes, already baking in the oven. I’d ordered the ingredients through InstaCart, and Drew was in for a treat.
My front door beeped, and Drew’s voice filled the house. “Hi honey, I’m home.” He cackled and strolled into the kitchen, his black shirt pulling tightly across his shoulders and his joggers hugging his narrow hips.
Bean popped off his bed and ran to Drew.
“Hey, little dude.” Crouching down, he cupped Bean’s face and nuzzled his nose. “I smell nothing cooking yet.” Leaving Bean, he strutted toward me.
“That’s because I haven’t put the steaks on yet, and I’m only cooking baked potatoes right now.” We had half an hour until game time. I’d texted with Evan throughout the day, but he’d sounded busy. Still, he’d let me know he was thinking of me.
Drew waltzed to my bar. “Bourbon today? Or should we mix it up with tequila? Do you still have some of that margarita mix?” He pulled out a highball glass.
“The mix is in the refrigerator. Can you pour me a bourbon?” Why mess with a good thing? I brought the steaks out through the patio doors and to my waiting barbecue. I’d started it at least ten minutes ago, so it was good and hot.
“Sure,” he said.
After opening my barbecue, tucked into a masonry outdoor kitchen on the side of the patio, I set the steaks on the grate, and they sizzled. Now Drew would have something to smell. I left the steaks to cook and returned to the house.
Drew had left my bourbon by the sink, set the table, set up TV dinner trays at my couch and had pulled the baked potato fixings and salad from the refrigerator.
“You’ve been busy.” This was one reason we made a good pair. He got shit done, which left me to putter around and do things in my own time.