Chapter 27
Actually, why not go with him?
Something tells me it’ll be interesting.
He carries my things one-handed as we walk. When his hand brushes mine, I grab on. He’s more solid than the ground under my feet, and it’s nice to trust that someone else will take care of gravity for a while.
“Is this okay?” I squeeze his fingers. I don’t actually remember the last time I held anyone’s hand.
His smile is devastating.
Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I got clipped by that cyclist, and I’m having a wonderful delusion.
“More than okay,” he says.
The walk becomes a pleasant blur, the sky filled with the kind of gray that flattens and dulls everything it touches. Everyone is bundled up against the chill, passing blacks and blues, their eyes peeking out from beanies and scarves and puffer jackets that I want to hug close.
I feel … light. Lighter than I have in months.
“What are you going to do now?”
It’s a great question. I wish I had an answer.
I’ve always been happier when I was rushing toward something. Being stagnant is … not enjoyable.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, the good news is, you don’t have to figure it out alone.”
It’s hard to believe I called him selfish a few hours ago.
“So … boyfriend, job, apartment. Is that it?”
He makes it sound so simple, as though my life hasn’t been decimated in the space of a few hours. Like he can make a plan to fix it in no time flat.
“For now.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “First one’s easy, so no worries there. Second one might be a bit trickier, but I know a guy who owes me a hell of a favor. The third one depends.”
“On?”
“On how much you trust me.”
We end up in a courtyard overlooking the river. I’ve never been in this part of the city before, but I can see why he brought me here.
A young girl who can barely be out of high school is performing with her electric guitar, a growing crowd braving the cold to admire her obvious skill.
“The music college is around the corner,” he explains. “They come to practice, or battle, or have a bit of fun. Best concerts in the city right here.”
I’m captured by the spark in his eyes. I like his energy. He’s relaxed and playful, but also deeply passionate. He flirts, yeah, but he also doesn’t hide how much he cares, and I like that. It’s what draws me to him.
“Did you go here?”
“Couldn’t afford to. I learned as much as I could on my own—library books and ten clumsy fingers.
The real shit came from favors and kindness, people like this, who play much better than I ever could, people who gave a poor kid a chance.
It wasn’t serious for me back then. Music was just another way to make a few bucks until it became more.
Something stable, something that stopped being a long shot and started being a meal ticket, a home for Mum and my brothers. I owe music everything.”
His passion is so tangible that I could reach out and touch it. Hold it between my palms and keep it safe. It reminds me of sitting on Alice’s couch with wine and pizza, talking over a movie, or drinking hot cocoa with my parents while wearing matching dressing gowns.
Something about him reminds me of home.
It’s so rare to find, and in a city like Chance, it’s like discovering lost gold.
We take a seat on a nearby bench. It’s close enough to enjoy the show, but far enough to hear ourselves talk. There’s a coffee cart nearby and a line of people waiting to order. The air smells like spun sugar.
“I’ll be right back,” Lucky says, walking over.
Twenty minutes ago, I would have put getting a new job at the top of my list. It should be; walking out of The Observer, knowing I won’t be back, is a wound I can already tell will take forever to heal. Even now, I’m picking at it.
I should have yelled.
I should have thrown her shitty job back in Monica’s face.
I should have found Sterling and done something ridiculous.
But I didn’t. I nodded and packed up and walked out with my tail between my legs.
And then I became homeless.
Sighing, I pull out my phone. Best fix this now.
My landlord answers in a rush. “Yep?”
“Bruno, it’s Mia in 309. I know I’m meant to be out this weekend, but my new place fell through, and I need to know if there’s any chance I could stay a bit longer.”
Something crashes in the background, and he swears. “Wait here, would ya?” And then he’s setting the phone and walking away, grumbling complaints loud enough to hear.
I wait, watching Lucky charm the guy running the cart. I’ve never met anyone so enthusiastically themself before. It’s endearing.
“Okay, what was it you needed? Oh, right. Well, you have the luck of a unicorn because the next guy can’t move in for another month, so if you can pay me up front, you’ve won yourself four more weeks.”
“I think you mean leprechaun.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I’ll send the money right now.”
“Yep,” he grunts and hangs up.
No one hates phone calls more than that man, but, hey, he’s efficient. I can appreciate that.
And it’s really, really hard to be mad when he just saved my ass.
Lucky sits beside me, a steaming cup in his hand. I’m very aware of how little space there is between us. Everywhere we might touch. How easy it would be to close the gap. How much I want to.
“Please tell me that smile is for me.”
“Nope,” I say. “I’ve temporarily postponed my living problem.”
He clasps his chest. “Next time, lie to me.”
I don’t bother to hide my smile.
“I didn’t say it before, but thank you for the coffee. Maybe it’s the panic talking, but I don’t think it’s ever tasted this good before.” I put the empty cup aside. I fish the doughnut out of my belongings, groaning in pleasure as soon as I take a bite. “I haven’t had one of these in a year.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“I’ve been trying to get fit.”
Lucky’s gaze sweeps over me. “Bullshit. You’re gorgeous. What fun is being fit if you can’t eat?”
Oh, I want to wrap him up in a box and keep him.
“Wow, I finally found something that annoys you.” I don’t know what fountain of positivity he dipped himself in, but I need the address.
“It annoys me that your ex would make you feel bad about yourself.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Lucky stretches out beside me. His legs are so long, denim catching tight across his thighs.
“Does anyone ever tell you that you’re a know-it-all?”
He laughs, and it loosens the tightness in my chest. It’s so easy with him, easy in a way I’ve never felt in Chance. Like I belong.
“It’s a gift,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“It’s how I know you’re smart, although you already know that.
You want the world to be better, and you get frustrated when it disappoints you, but overall, it’s a good thing.
More people should aim to be good. And you’re determined—maybe a bit too much because, sometimes, you’re so set on a goal that you race ahead before you’re ready for it. ”
What the heck?
I’ve never had anyone read me so well.
“How did you do that?”
He shrugs, drinks his coffee.
Now that I know I’ll have a roof over my head for a little longer, everything feels a little bit more manageable.
“What about you? What is it that you do that makes you such an expert on people? Fortune teller? Politician?”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m a songwriter. Pop mainly, but I mess around with a rock ballad every now and then—you know, get back to my roots.”
Ah. That explains this place. “I should have guessed. You have the whole”—I wave a hand over his body, my gaze catching on his arms, thighs, hair; it’s ridiculous that anyone can be that attractive—“hot-rocker thing going on.”
“Do I?” He leans closer. “Do you like it?”
Very much.
There’s nothing I can do to fight the flush that comes to my cheeks, and I know he can see it because his eyes start to sparkle. He really knows exactly the effect he has, and despite wanting to be mad at him for it, it only makes me want to kiss him.
I can imagine it all too well. The scrape of his beard against my skin.
His bottom lip, pink and soft against my own.
Would he be gentle? Tender? Or would he kiss with the same persistence he’s had all morning?
Tongue and teeth and passion. I can still feel the force of his hold from earlier, how strong and solid he was against me.
I’ve been staring at his lips for too long. Tearing my eyes away, I expect to find him looking smug, but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s fond, as though we’ve been here before. As if we’re reliving a cherished memory.
It sets my insides going more than his flirting does.
“Do you like it?” I ask because I need a second to think, and maybe if I get to know him better, I can remind myself of why falling for him is a terrible idea. “Writing music?”
“I love it. It’s been my dream since I was a kid.”
My childhood dreams once seemed so possible. Now they feel like a fantasy, wild hopes wished on distant stars, never to be realized.
And yet …
Lucky makes me want to believe.
“What brought you here to Chance anyway?”
“Love,” he says.
And has there ever been a single word more capable of encapsulating a life? It’s thick with meaning, pure, drawn from the very source of him.
“Running to it or away from it?”
His eyes shine amber in the sunlight, flecks of gold glimmering with kindness. “Bit of both.”
“I’m surprised you stayed.” Would I?
I suppose I already am, and there is much more in Chance to love than another person. It’s easy to discover. The laugh of the kid running the coffee cart, every note pouring smooth and easy from the guitarist, a dad getting on one knee to fix the zipper on his daughter’s jacket.
“Some risks are worth taking,” he says.
He’s right.
Risks require unparalleled trust, as does love, and both require a strong heart. Why else would I have moved to Chance? This city is full of risk-takers. I admire that. It’s every reason I was drawn here and drawn to him.
“Or you’re just stubborn,” I say, and I mean it as a compliment. I’m stubborn too.
“See,” he says, sliding his arm around me. “You do know me.”
We’re joined, knee to hip to shoulder. We fit well together.
It gives me an idea.
“What are you doing on Thursday?”
“Anything you want, love.”
Hmm. Maybe there is a way I can salvage this. I can’t find a job in two days, not in this economy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t delay the apartment a little longer. Nothing major … just a nudge to give myself a little more time.
* * *
Can we skip ahead? I want to see Lucky again.
it’s a date (go to 30)
go back (go to 15)