56. Megan
Chapter 56
Megan
Hattie: You need to get your sexy arse down to Moonshine RIGHT NOW.
My attendance at a nightclub on a Thursday is extremely unlikely. I’ve taken two painkillers after an emergency post-work bikini wax and gone to bed early with my face covered in French retinol and a book in my hand.
Megan: Why?
Hattie: Ollie is here.
I sit bolt upright, casting my book aside. Irritation floods through me, but I’ve no right to be annoyed that he didn’t tell me he was going out tonight. Then irritation makes way for panic. What is he hiding from me? Who is he out with? Is he on a date?
It’s none of my business.
He owes me nothing.
Except, only two days ago, he invited me over and casually suggested he might keep me up all night, so my usual positive reframing approach does nothing for me. Thankfully, Hattie’s next text brings with it a drop of relief.
Hattie: It’s open mic night. Why didn’t you tell me your man sounds like Hozier’s cousin?
Another message appears, a video she’s taken from her spot behind the bar. There in the middle of the stage, Ollie sits alone under a spotlight, perched on a stool with his guitar across his lap. His hair hangs loose around his face, and his eyes are closed while he sings. I grab headphones from my nightstand, bump up the volume and sink back into my pillows.
His voice is incredible, like warm honey, but with a gravelly undertone. It takes a few lines for my brain to figure out what he’s singing; a Kings of Leon song I haven’t heard in years. In the background, Hattie shushes a customer, and a new text flashes across the top of my screen.
Hattie: Did you know he can sing?
Megan: He sings a bit around the house, but I’ve never heard him like this.
Hattie: Do you think he’d do a regular gig for us? Crowd loves it!
Megan: You’d have to ask him
Hattie: Oh I will xx
I’m grateful she can’t see a play count, because by the time I go to sleep, I’ve memorised every note, every inhale, every pinch of his brow while he loses himself in the music, and I lose myself in him.