With my belly full, and the tension inside me fading more and more with the music, I relaxed into the comfortable evening, happy I’d come.
By the time I finished my second soda, though, I squirmed in my seat, my bladder too full. My gaze shifted to the hallway leading to the restrooms. Sighing at my own cowardice, I slipped off the stool, setting Jack’s jacket over it.
Movement by the door drew my gaze. Sean had stepped forward, his eyes on me. I shook my head at him, and he paused. Then I walked back to the restroom alone.
I must have timed it right because there was no line, but a few women were waiting when I came out. No men. My breath grew more even as I made my way back to my seat, using the jacket like a blanket again.
Jack was waiting with a third soda, and he smiled at me. “What do you think of her?” he asked, nodding toward the singer.
“I really like her.” I’d already added her to my streaming playlist for later. “Her voice has a gritty quality to it that reminds me of Janis Joplin.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “Most of the time I line up bands because the crowds enjoy them more than solo artists, but I wanted to listen to her play.” He glanced toward the stage. “I get to do that, since I own the place.”
I snorted, and he smiled back at me before moving down the bar.
When the artist packed up for the night, I watched as Jack went to talk to her, shaking her hand before she headed out.
Most of the other patrons had left as well, the barstools emptying of the last couple who had held out until the end. I finished my soda, knowing I should leave, too, but not wanting to get up. Which was ridiculous. It was two in the morning. Neil might already be home.
“You ready for me to walk you out?” Sean asked from behind me.
I pushed my empty soda glass back, hunching my shoulders. “I guess.”
Sean slipped onto the barstool next to me. “Not ready to go home?”
I sighed, glancing up at his face. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. His eyes held mine steadily. “Not really,” I admitted.
“So stay for a while,” Jack offered. He moved past us to the door, turning the lock, and I realized I was the last one left not wearing a T-shirt with a logo. When he turned back, his gaze focused on Sean. “Why don’t you take her upstairs while I finish closing up down here?”
“Upstairs?” I asked, frowning as I looked at the ceiling. He’d said that last time, and it hadn’t made sense then either.
Sean laughed. “You know how they say some people live at their job?” He pointed up. “Jack fits that to a T. He has an apartment above the bar.” He stood. “Come on.”
“Oh, but—” I looked at Jack. “Are you sure you want me up there?”
“I’m sure.” His arms crossed over his chest as he studied me. “But you don’t have to. We can hang out down here, if that makes you more comfortable.”
I considered it, but the idea of seeing Jack’s personal space was tickling at my mind. “No, I’m okay going up, as long as you’re okay with it.”
“Then it’s decided,” Sean said, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go before he realizes he hasn’t hidden all his porn away.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jack muttered, shaking his head as he moved behind the bar.
I glanced at him one more time before letting Sean tug me toward the back. The stairs were hidden behind two other doors,both marked Employees Only. The steps creaked as we climbed to the floor above. The door there wasn’t locked, and Sean led me into the living area.
My eyes couldn’t take it in fast enough. From the record player to the band posters to the guitar in the corner, I could feel the love he had for music. His furniture was more practical, the long couch gray while the two armchairs on either side were a blue suede.
Even his coat hooks were shaped like the top of a guitar. I hung his jacket on an empty one, not letting my hands cling to it.
He had a huge TV taking up one wall and plenty of gaming systems neatly organized underneath. The only thing out of place was the top magazine on an otherwise neat stack.
“Did he know he’d have company?” I asked, noticing all over again how tidy it all was. Even his picture frames were perfectly placed in a pattern on the wall. Unable to resist, I drifted toward them.
“Nah, Jack has always been a neat freak. I’ve never seen someone clean as much as he does.” He settled into an armchair. “Sorry, been on my feet all night.”
“Oh, no. Go ahead.” I waved his words away as I reached the framed pictures. Jack was in most of them. He looked different, with long hair and more stylish clothes, but I recognized his nose. In many, he was onstage with other members of a band. “He doesn’t play anymore?”
“Sometimes, when his old crew comes to town. What do you think? Should he grow his hair out again?”
