“Then the concert on Whispering Key.” I tried to keep the dread out of my voice, but I was pretty sure I’d failed.
“Okay, butafterthe concert?” he pressed. “What do you want to do?”
Jay, if you could have anything in the world, what would it be?
“I don’t know, Oak. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess.”
* * *
“Dear Diary,” Gage Goodman grumbled from the passenger’s seat of the sedan I’d rented in Denver for our drive to Larindosa. “It’s the fifth day of my captivity. Food supplies are dwindling. I feel the life force draining from my pores.”
I pulled my gaze away from the purple awning of the Billy Goat Cafe and glanced at the anthropomorphic bottomless pit wearing clunky boots and a bright green T-shirt that read “Hedgehogs: Why don’t they just share the hedge?”
“If food supplies are running low, it’s because you ate them all, kiddo.” I gave a speaking glance at the bag of fast-food wrappers and empty cans littering the floor of the car.
Gage rolled his dark head against the headrest so he could look at me over his sunglasses. His eyes were dark and full of snark, just like his brother’s.
“I boredom eat, okay? It’s what I do. Just like you’re addicted to those damn honey drops of yours. ‘Go to Colorado, Gage,’ they said. ‘Road trip with the rock star,’ they said. I was prepared for parties, Jayd. Trashing hotel rooms, running from the paps and their cameras—”
“Jesus.” My lips twitched.
“Maybe hitting up a gay bar or two, since you’re, like, super gay now.” Gage lifted one dark eyebrow. “Instead, I get here and find out this guy I remember being really cool is more boring than fuckingBeale. Beale, at least, has a hot boyfriend. Heck, you’re more boring thanRafe!”
“Nonsense.” I scowled.
“Evidence: we’ve spent the last four nights eating takeout burgers and watching basic cable at a mid-priced hotel in suburban Wyoming with America’s slowest Wi-Fi and such shit locks on the doors that you insist on packing our stuff every day and putting it in the trunk.” He jerked a thumb toward the back of the car.
“Because my guitar isn’t just a guitar! Vega is a prewar Martin, which makes her a work of—”
“Let me take a second to tell you just how weird I find it that you named your guitar. Because it’s very fucking weird.” He paused like he was observing a moment of silence.
“It’s actually quite comm—”
“Then,you drive us to the middle of this old-fashioned street, which looks like something out of a Hallmark movie or the opening credits of a slasher film, and you stare creepily at people, which suggests thatweare going to be the slashers—”
“What?” I sputtered. “No! That’s not—”
“But at leastthatwould be exciting. Instead, we justsit, like Dale Jennings outside the Gas n’ Sundry back home, watching other people—people who have purpose in their lives—pass us by.” He turned to me suddenly. “Is this some kind of social experiment? Is that what we’re doing here? Where are the cameras?”
I cuffed him lightly on the side of the head. “There are no cameras! We’re people watching. It’s fun! It’s—”
“Donottreat me like I’m still thirteen and oblivious, Jayd. It’s hurtful…kiddo.”
“I’m not. I’m…” I trailed off. “You know, I remember you being a lot more easygoing than this.”
“You remember me being a teenager with a crush on you,” he muttered. “That ship sailed. Then it sank.”
I blinked at him, then blinked some more. “You? Me? I… But… you’re so… young.” And not the right brother, I definitely did not add.
Gage rolled his eyes, and his lips split in a grin. “I’m twenty-three, dumbass. But don’t stress. If I wasn’t over you before, I’m sure as hell over you now. Rafe can have you.”
“Rafe?” I demanded, my heart beating fast. “No. What? No. We are… wewerefriends. Brothers-in-law,” I choked out.
“Right.” He smiled wider.Toothier. “So, about this cafe. What time is Aimee supposed to show?”
I was so flustered, I didn’t think. “Ten o’clock is her usual time, according to her Instagram posts, but she hasn’t come in days, and I’m starting to wonder if Oak’s information is… Wait!Wait. What makes you think Aimee has anything to do with my errand?”
Gage waved a hand dismissively. “FYI, your phone password is concerning on a number of levels, and guessability is the least of those.”
