He nudged his head to the black walls of the building. “That America’s Bitch is out here hiding.”
He had a point. I’d never walked out of a bar alone. And perhaps I shouldn’t have. It was reckless, considering there was an imaginary stalker after me.
This was the point I’d usually tell him to go away, but he had what I needed.
“Can I borrow a cig?”
“Borrow? Why do people say that?” he shook his head. “You plan on giving it back or something?”
“No. I don’t return favors.”
Linc grinned as if he found me amusing. As if everything he’d heard about me was correct. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a box of Newports. He flipped the box top off and shook it just enough to have a single stogie poking out of the bunch. I’d seen it done in the movies but never thought it was possible to witness such a bold move on the other side of a big screen.
I slipped the cigarette from the pack and put it between my lips. “Gotta light?”
Linc swiveled the Zippo between his fingers in one quick sweep, popped off the cap, and produced a flame. He brought it to the end of the cig hanging between my lips and lit the end with intense eyes lingering on me. I inhaled with ferocity, letting the nicotine coat my lungs.
Exhaling, I slumped my shoulders with instant relief.
It was quiet for a full, dark moment with his squinty gaze watching me through the smoke clouds. There was something thrilling about it all.
“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice was brusque, edgy, like jagged lace.
“There was a show?”
“At last, we’ve reached the generation glued to our phones. No clue what’s going on around us. Sad, isn’t it?”
“Or not entertaining enough considering a member in the band has stage fright.”
Linc laughed under his breath. “Your friends sure thought it was entertaining enough,” he said, slow and quick at once. My jab didn’t bother him in the least. “Where did they run off to, anyway? Did they leave you all by yourself?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Ah, young socialite all left out and far away from home.”
“A gangster with a bitter attitude and a bad mouth,” I laughed, “They’ll return me eventually.”
“Bet I could get enough use out of you before the trial period ends.”
“You’re shameless.”
“Good show.”
“Agreed,” I said, and the buzz burned my cheeks when I smiled. It earned me a crooked grin in return. A real one that showed his teeth. One of those was crooked, too.
I tapped the end of the cig and watched the ashes fall onto pavement. “You seem confident for someone who turns their back on the crowd. Who are you singing to when you do that?”
“You caught that?” He looked up to the dusty black sky, one hand deep in his pocket, the other pinching the end of his cig. “I’m still getting used to the wholesharing my art with othersthing. What can I say? I’m selfish.”
“You avoided the question.”
“No I didn’t.”
We caught eyes. Neither of us looked away. We just stood on the sidewalk and stared with our cigarettes burning to our fingertips. Until someone came through the back door, pushing it open until it hit concrete, and said—“Linc, man, we’re rolling out. Come pack up your shit.”
Linc sucked in a breath. “I have to get back. If you’re still out here waiting around like a lost puppy, I can take you home.”
“I’m not stranded.”
