“I didn’t say youaremad. I said youlookmad.”
“I have resting bitch face.”
“You have resting pretty face.”
I frown at him.
He leans back in his seat and glances at our server, who’s arrived with our drinks. “Chuck, my dude, does my companion have resting bitch face?”
“No way.” He jerks his head toward the small stage in the corner of the room. “Those three guys over there asked if you’re brother and sister. They want to give her their phone numbers.”
“That’s a them problem,” I say. “Also, I don’t believe you.”
Regret sinks in immediately as hurt flashes through Chuck’s brown eyes, then disappears like he’s used to being abused at work.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re a liar. I believe you. Mostly. Kind of. I—I’m going to stop talking.”
“She’s not used to believing she’s pretty,” Duncan adds. “It’s like her mirrors don’t work.”
I’m blushing.
Furiously.
“Suppose it’s not likely the Fireballs are telling her she’s pretty every day,” Chuck says to Duncan. “Probably crosses lines with their coach.”
My lips part.
Duncan’s brows hit his hairline.
Chuck slides my iced tea in front of me on the smooth black table, his long sleeve pulling up just enough to show off a Baby Ash tattoo on his wrist. “Don’t worry. I won’t let your secret out.”
“Thank you,” I breathe.
“Also, I think you can do better than an unemployed guy who hangs out playing bars for free. No offense, Duncan.”
I choke on air.
Duncan’s grinning widely. “None taken.”
Chuck leaves Duncan’s bottle of sparkling water on the table too, then slips away.
“I can’t decide if I’m mortified or amused,” I whisper.
It’s obvious which one Duncan is. He’s barely holding in a laugh. “You’re more famous than I am.”
“He was joking about you being unemployed, right?”
“Nope. I told them I was living in my parents’ basement, waiting for my musical career to take off.”
“Long commute from Calgary every day.”
He laughs again. “Very draining.”
“You think you’ll stay in the US when you retire?”
I cringe and wish I could take it back the minute the question leaves my mouth.
But if he reads into it, he doesn’t show it.
