I glance up. “Not really. I know they grew up together and then I figured the band stuff.”
“It was band stuff, but also not.” She smiles faintly. “Luc was the golden boy. The one labels wanted. Dean was a messy, brilliant hurricane with too much hurt in his eyes. After Emily’s accident, they weren’t sure if Dean was going to be able to keep on keeping on.”
“And?”
“And Dean walked into their first rehearsal with the label and played like he’d been born with rhythm in his blood. Luc just watched him.” She takes a sip of her latte, then continues her story. “Dean told Luc later that the band was the only thing that gave him purpose. Luc told Dean he would always have it. The band. His friendship. No matter what.”
I smile despite myself.
“I mean, it wasn’t like Luc was going to let the executives tell him who could be in his band. There’s no way he would have signed without Dean.”
“Sounds like Luc.” My voice soft.
“Yeah. But what people don’t see is those two are anchored to each other. Luc doesn’t say it much, but Dean’s the only person he ever trusted to stand beside him when things got ugly. And Dean,” Lily’s voice goes tender, “Dean would walk through fire for Luc. He just doesn’t know how to show it without acting like a jerk.”
I swallow. “Why are you telling me this?”
She meets my gaze. “Because I think it matters that you know he’s capable of devotion. He just scared of where that devotion could take him. Scared of feeling that much pain again.” A little shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the iced coffee. “At least, this is what Luc has shared with me.”
We leave the café and wander Beale, laughing at souvenir shops selling “ELVIS LIVES” mugs and neon guitar keychains. Lily buys Larkin a tiny pair of sparkly pink shoes that she shows me like a prize.
“She’s going to hate them,” I dare to warn her.
“She’ll love them once she realizes she can throw them at people.”
“Valid.” We’re laughing as we turn a corner, and bam, there they are. Luc and Dean. Across the street at a record shop with a faded sign and a line of crates outside. Luc is holding up an album, talking animatedly. Dean’s leaning on the doorway, listening with that quiet focus he never wears onstage.
They look completely normal. Not like the rockstars they are. Just two best friends on a day off, bickering about music like its survival. Dean says something I can’t hear, but Luc’s head falls back in laughter. Pure, big-brother laughter. Dean smirks, then does a rare thing; he reaches out and shoves Luc’s shoulder, not hard, not playful, just a touch that says I’m here. It hits me in the chest.
Lily nudges me. “See what I mean?”
I nod. I can’t explain the way it makes the world feel safer.
Luc spots us first. He smiles and lifts a hand. “Hey!”
Dean turns. His eyes land on me, and everything in the city goes quiet. Not because he’s loud. But because he isn’t. Because his gaze still knows my skin. He doesn’t smile, not fully, but his expression softens around the edges like he can’t help it. It’s subtle. And it’s enough to make my pulse trip.
“Hey.” I smile, aiming for casual.
“How’s girls’ day?” Luc asks.
“It’s been amazing.” Lily grins. “Looks like it’s boys’ day too apparently.”
Dean looks at Luc like he’s offended by the word boys. “We’re buying records.”
“Mm-hmm,” Lily says. “Very masculine.”
Dean rolls his eyes. I bite back a smile.
“Marie wanted Larkin to herself for a little while, so I grabbed this guy to see what kind of trouble we could get into.” Luc directs that to Lily, then points at me. “You taking an actual break, or are you pretending you’re off but still secretly working?”
“Break,” I admit with a smile, surprised at how good it feels to claim it.
“Good.” He nods. “You deserve it.”
Dean’s gaze flicks to my mouth. Just once. Just long enough for heat to snake down my spine. I feel my cheeks warm and hate that he can do that without touching me.
Lily loops her arm through mine again, as if she senses the storm we’re both pretending isn’t there. “We were about to go see the riverfront. You two coming?”
