This wasthe closest they’d been in ages, and Dante still couldn’t believe it.
This dive bar—literally, there was a swim-up dock opening into the Gulf—was not really that different from any of the other places he and Ellery had met over the years.The breeze off the water cut through the odors of stale beer and cigarette smoke.Talking fish were mounted beside the old license plates and a few arcade games beeped at the back.
He didn’t care where they were.He would follow Ellery anywhere.It had been increasingly difficult to keep his distance from her, to deny how badly he wanted her.All the nights touring, playing beside her, then off to separate hotel rooms.At least she hadn’t taken anyone with her to hers.Neither had he.When he had finally learned how good it could be with someone, he didn’t want anyone else.All of which meant the want inside him raced wildly out of control.
Goddamn Logan Groff and his no-fraternization policy.
But Logan wasn’t there.Logan wasn’t in that bar, knees almost kissing hers as they sat side by side on barstools.Logan wasn’t the one watching as she lifted the glass to her lips, the crimson of her smile burning so bright it filled the dingy room.
Dante was.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Ellery said, setting her glass down atop a weathered coaster.“I thought Casper was throwing you a giant welcome home party.”
“He did.”He sipped his beer to keep his hands to himself.They had far too much of a tendency to wander toward her.“The day I went home.It was great.A bunch of people I hadn’t seen in ages.My parents and Casper and I hung out for a while.”He coughed slightly.How to cover this.“Then Samara called.A beach vacation sounded awesome.”He didn’t love the beach, but anything to see her.
“It is awesome.”She shook her head, as if in disbelief.“It’s great that you’re here.Lately, I feel like all we have time for is the band and band stuff.I never get to hear about you.Just you and how you’re doing.”
How was he doing?Back in LA, he spent nearly every night in his apartment, wishing he were with Ellery.Replaying the kiss.Counseling himself to take it slow.It doesn’t matter.Bide your time.Attraction fades.
Blah, blah, lies.
The simple truth was he knew Ellery wanted to be famous.She wanted her songs out there for the masses.He wanted her to have that, even if it meant he had to deal with not being able to be with her.Even if there was a ticklish sensation at the back of his neck that she was changing—without him.Logan was changing her.
But here was different.
Here in this musty, salt-weathered bar, they weren’t bandmates.They were just Ellery and Dante.
Ellery arched an eyebrow toward him, like she was waiting for his reply.“Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“What it is you do when you’re not with the band.”She cast her gaze on the wet ring her glass left on the worn bar top.“Are you, like, dating somebody?”
The idea was so preposterous—didn’t she realize she was the only person he ever even considered?—that he laughed loudly.“Seriously?”
“It’s not a weird question.”She drank the rest of her cola in one gulp, then burped.If Dante hadn’t been lost before, he was now.She hid the burp with the back of her hand and giggled twice, which was the most unexpected, un-Ellery thing he could imagine.Desire surged within him, and he sipped his beer to cover it.“Lots of people date.And look at you.You’re young and a killer musician.You’re hot.”Her cheeks flushed, and she tinkled the ice in her otherwise empty glass.
“You think I’m hot?”He took a long sip of beer, pleasure coiling around his lower spine and licking upward.Coming to Florida had been the best decision he had ever made.
She tossed her hair and rolled her eyes.“You’re avoiding the question.Where do you go when you’re not with m—the band?”
“It’s not a secret.”Though he never really spoke about it.“It’s not a big deal or anything.I volunteer sometimes, with this LGBTQ+ hotline for teens.They call or text or whatever and we talk.”
Her eyes had widened and her jaw slackened slightly.
Embarrassment rolled through his muscles but he shook it off.“What?”
Now her eyes shone and she covered his hand with hers.They were the same shape, though his were a little bigger.Their calluses matched.
“That’s amazing, Dante.You help kids in your free time?All I do is sleep or google elaborate cake recipes.”
“I didn’t think you cooked.”
“I don’t.But I love reading cake recipes or watching people decorate them.It’s soothing, whatever.Don’t nullify your accomplishments.”She shrugged, the little straps of her dress staying half a centimeter above her shoulders.“Dante, what you do is legit amazing.”
He shrugged, suddenly unsure of the depth of her attention on him.“I’ve been really lucky.I reached out to a group like this when I was thinking things out.I had great support through everything, but I know it doesn’t happen like that for everyone.So I volunteer.I mean, I had official training too.Kids call in and talk about issues or identity or stuff they’re going through.I don’t counsel them; I’m not trained for any of the heavier stuff.But we have psychologists or social workers or crisis managers we can call.”
“I should do something like that.”The bartender had refilled her soda and she sipped at it.“I don’t do anything special.”
