“Milwaukee.”
His eyes widened.“You’re a Badger?No way.”
“What?I can’t be from Wisconsin?”She held her arms out to the sides of her five-foot-nothing frame.
He laughed, primarily at the screen-printed message on her T-shirt:If you don’t know who Annie Lennox is, Go Away.“I didn’t mean that.You seem like a Los Angeles native.”
“Well, it’s my third year here at UCLA so I’m practically an Angeleno.What about you?”
“Seattle.”
She arched an eyebrow.“Nice.Like coffee, do you?”
“Oh, I love stereotypes.Flat whites are far superior to cappuccinos.”He clinked the bottom of his beer bottle against her glass of seltzer.“You don’t drink?”
She shook her head, her dark brown curls swaying around her face.She had the most beautiful mouth he had ever seen, expressive and wide.It almost didn’t suit her petite frame, but there was an edgy drive to her that made it all work.“Not before I perform.And I’m not a big drinker anyway.”She twirled the straw in her glass.“My sister says it’s because I’m a control freak.”
“Are you?”He didn’t get that impression, not from her.She was the type of person who projected control either because she cared more about whatever she was creating in her brain or she didn’t give a fuck what people thought.Or maybe she cared too much, too deeply, so hid it away.
Anyway, she was intriguing.He wasn’t usually intrigued by people, particularly not cis women who wouldn’t talk to him after they found out he was trans.
“I don’t know.I am when it comes to music.”She picked up her guitar from beside her.It was a gorgeous instrument, well-loved and cared for, the musical equivalent of a beloved childhood stuffed animal.“But then I also love when something spontaneous happens and it’s like all the notes just come to you.”
“Like it rains inspiration?”
“Exactly.”She held his gaze then, her dark brown eyes warm and soft and sparking.He could see a thousand constellations in those eyes.
“Are you and your family close?”
“Yes.Especially my parents.”
“They must miss you, being so far away.”His were probably glad he was out of town.
“I think so.Though they keep talking about moving to Florida once my sister goes off to college.It’s always been my mom’s dream to live near the beach.”She paused and turned to the stage, where two reasonably talented women were singing ABBA and dancing with the enthusiasm born of rum.“What about you?Are you close with your family?”
Dante swallowed.“Yeah.Sure.Parents, a brother, the usual.They live up in Seattle.”
“Um, that’s awesome.You get to live near your family?”
He laughed without quite knowing why.Blessings and curses.Maybe he was some kind of martyr for the vague disapproval of supposed liberals.“Yeah.It’s why I stayed there for school.Mom’s home-cooked casseroles and free laundry.It works.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and hummed in agreement.“So who was your gateway drug?”
“What?”
“Your gateway.To deciding to become a musician.”
His guitar warmed his knee, as though it heard exactly what she said and wanted it to be true.“I haven’t fully decided to be a musician.”
She smacked both palms against the table and her jaw dropped open.“Are you kidding me?You can play like that and you don’t want to be a musician?”
How did he tell her how difficult it was to stand up in front of a crowd and play?Places like this were fine—half the clientele was too young or drunk, and he didn’t know anyone here.It wasn’t always like this.He passed well enough most of the time.But to put himself out there?On the line, front and center?What if someone outed him?No, thank you.Not worth it.“I’m not really cut out for lead guitar.Bass is more my jam.”
She rolled her eyes.“You are selling yourself way too short, Dante.I’ve never—”
“Everyone, please welcome to the stage a local favorite, Ellery Vaughn!”The emcee’s voice sounded tinny through the microphone.
She picked up her guitar, and his stomach sank.This was over.He wasn’t ready for it to be over, not yet.Normally with people he couldn’t wait to get away after five minutes, but with Ellery…five minutes would never be enough.
