Chapter 8
The Fourth Friday
Icouldn’t help but remember the police lights from the week before when I approached the entrance to The Muse.
Music was already playing from inside, and the musician’s voice was raspy and deep, curling around me.
It reminded me of the times I’d listen to my foster mom’s Janis Joplin record while she curled up with her husband on the couch and talked about music.
Sean’s eyes remained on me as I worked my way up to the door. “Hey, honey,” he greeted. “It’s good to see you.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been sitting in the back seat of a second cop car.
“Of course. Don’t you worry about me.” He patted my shoulder, his large tattooed hand so warm, even through my shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Hitting the asshole was on me, not you.” He waved toward the open door. “Your spot is open.”
“Really?” It had taken me longer to leave the house than usual.
Neil had left a couple of hours earlier for his date.
Finally giving up on choosing an outfit, I’d left in my baggy shirt and comfy jeans.
I’d been worried about parking, and a part of me had already planned on using that as an excuse to head back home, but a couple of spots had still been open in the back.
“I would have thought the bar would be full by now.” I peeked around the door.
A leather jacket had been spread over my usual barstool.
“Jack saved it for you,” Sean said.
I nodded, moving inside. Not wanting to sit on the jacket, I lifted it and placed it over my legs as I settled into my spot. Both of the seats nearest to me were occupied, but the patrons’ attention remained on the people beside them.
I watched Jack as he mixed a drink. He wasn’t a super tall man, likely a few inches under six feet, but his hands looked strong and sure. Musician’s hands.
My eyes moved to the stage. Tonight’s performer wasn’t a full band but instead one woman with a guitar. She had a uniquely beautiful voice as she sang about not wanting to go home.
Now that I was here, I felt the same. Neil would return with yet another number added to his body count, and I hadn’t even been able to set up a date this week.
Jack’s hand settled over mine where it rested on the bar, drawing my gaze to him. “Hey, Hailey. Glad you’re here.” He lifted his hand from mine, leaving tingles behind. “I can store the jacket behind the bar.”
My other hand clutched at it. “Oh, um…” I kind of liked the weight of it over my legs.
He smiled. “You can keep it for a while if you want. What can I get you? Want me to try something new?”
I’d really liked the purple drink from last week, but it felt wrong to order it, and I wasn’t in a very festive mood. “Just a ginger ale tonight?” My stomach twisted to protest its emptiness. “And a menu?”
He grabbed a menu, which was just a one-sided laminated rectangle, and handed it over. “I’ll grab your soda.”
Food wasn’t a priority for The Muse based on what was on offer.
Jack set down the sparkling golden drink. He hesitated, studying me. “Know what you want?”
I handed back the menu. “Chicken tenders and fries with honey mustard.”
He nodded, tucking the menu away but not moving down the bar despite someone gesturing toward him. “Be right there,” he called, his eyes on me. He leaned forward a little. “Meeting anyone tonight?” he asked.
“I’m just here for the music. And some food.” I tried to smile, but from the way he frowned, I didn’t quite pull it off. “You don’t need to worry about me tonight.”
“That’s not—”
“Hey, Jack.” Wendy nudged his shoulder. “We’re out of limes.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll take care of it. The guy in red is waiting to order.”
“Got it.” She slapped him on the back and moved toward the man who had gestured.
I turned my gaze back to the musician so Jack could focus on his work. The ginger ale helped to ease the ache in my stomach as I sipped it. The woman sang a few more songs before my food was placed in front of me.
I handed Wendy my card so she could start a tab.
With my belly full, and the tension inside me fading more and more with the music, I relaxed into the comfortable evening, happy I’d come.
By the time I finished my second soda, though, I squirmed in my seat, my bladder too full. My gaze shifted to the hallway leading to the restrooms. Sighing at my own cowardice, I slipped off the stool, setting Jack’s jacket over it.
Movement by the door drew my gaze. Sean had stepped forward, his eyes on me. I shook my head at him, and he paused. Then I walked back to the restroom alone.
I must have timed it right because there was no line, but a few women were waiting when I came out. No men. My breath grew more even as I made my way back to my seat, using the jacket like a blanket again.
Jack was waiting with a third soda, and he smiled at me. “What do you think of her?” he asked, nodding toward the singer.
“I really like her.” I’d already added her to my streaming playlist for later. “Her voice has a gritty quality to it that reminds me of Janis Joplin.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “Most of the time I line up bands because the crowds enjoy them more than solo artists, but I wanted to listen to her play.” He glanced toward the stage. “I get to do that, since I own the place.”
I snorted, and he smiled back at me before moving down the bar.
When the artist packed up for the night, I watched as Jack went to talk to her, shaking her hand before she headed out.
Most of the other patrons had left as well, the barstools emptying of the last couple who had held out until the end. I finished my soda, knowing I should leave, too, but not wanting to get up. Which was ridiculous. It was two in the morning. Neil might already be home.
“You ready for me to walk you out?” Sean asked from behind me.
I pushed my empty soda glass back, hunching my shoulders. “I guess.”
Sean slipped onto the barstool next to me. “Not ready to go home?”
I sighed, glancing up at his face. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. His eyes held mine steadily. “Not really,” I admitted.
“So stay for a while,” Jack offered. He moved past us to the door, turning the lock, and I realized I was the last one left not wearing a T-shirt with a logo. When he turned back, his gaze focused on Sean. “Why don’t you take her upstairs while I finish closing up down here?”
“Upstairs?” I asked, frowning as I looked at the ceiling. He’d said that last time, and it hadn’t made sense then either.
Sean laughed. “You know how they say some people live at their job?” He pointed up. “Jack fits that to a T. He has an apartment above the bar.” He stood. “Come on.”
“Oh, but—” I looked at Jack. “Are you sure you want me up there?”
“I’m sure.” His arms crossed over his chest as he studied me. “But you don’t have to. We can hang out down here, if that makes you more comfortable.”
I considered it, but the idea of seeing Jack’s personal space was tickling at my mind. “No, I’m okay going up, as long as you’re okay with it.”
“Then it’s decided,” Sean said, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go before he realizes he hasn’t hidden all his porn away.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jack muttered, shaking his head as he moved behind the bar.
I glanced at him one more time before letting Sean tug me toward the back. The stairs were hidden behind two other doors, both marked Employees Only. The steps creaked as we climbed to the floor above. The door there wasn’t locked, and Sean led me into the living area.
My eyes couldn’t take it in fast enough. From the record player to the band posters to the guitar in the corner, I could feel the love he had for music. His furniture was more practical, the long couch gray while the two armchairs on either side were a blue suede.
Even his coat hooks were shaped like the top of a guitar. I hung his jacket on an empty one, not letting my hands cling to it.
He had a huge TV taking up one wall and plenty of gaming systems neatly organized underneath. The only thing out of place was the top magazine on an otherwise neat stack.
“Did he know he’d have company?” I asked, noticing all over again how tidy it all was. Even his picture frames were perfectly placed in a pattern on the wall. Unable to resist, I drifted toward them.
“Nah, Jack has always been a neat freak. I’ve never seen someone clean as much as he does.” He settled into an armchair. “Sorry, been on my feet all night.”
“Oh, no. Go ahead.” I waved his words away as I reached the framed pictures. Jack was in most of them. He looked different, with long hair and more stylish clothes, but I recognized his nose. In many, he was onstage with other members of a band. “He doesn’t play anymore?”
“Sometimes, when his old crew comes to town. What do you think? Should he grow his hair out again?”
I laughed, my fingers resting on the glass of one frame, where he was smiling widely. “I think he looks good with both.”
“You do, do you?”
I glanced at Sean to find him studying me and let my hand drop. When I crossed toward the couch, I realized I still had my shoes on. “Oh, should I have taken off my shoes by the door?”
Sean shifted his boots up to rest on the coffee table. “He’s tidy, but he’s not as strict as all that. Relax.”
I sank onto the couch, pulling out my phone. “Can you tell me the name of his band? I want to pull them up.”
“Don’t you dare,” Jack responded from the doorway, pushing the door shut behind him. “I wasn’t that good. Mediocre at best.”
I flushed at being caught trying to research his past. “Sorry.”
“No, I get it.” Jack ran his hand through his hair. “I can text the band name to you later, when I don’t have to see the disappointment on your face.”
There was no way I would be disappointed, and I opened my mouth to admit as much, but he continued talking.
“At least, I can text you if I have your number. After you left last week, I realized I didn’t have it.”
“Smooth,” Sean said with a grin. “I want it too, honey, if you’re okay with that.”