The fact that Cash and Milo had immediately reached out, while Riot continued to remain silent while I walked through downtown Miami, proved that.
The wind picked up, coming off the ocean with enough chill to make me wrap my arms around myself. Salsa music drifted out of an open door of a nightclub, but that wasn’t the vibe I was looking for. I didn’t want to dance. I wanted to drink and feel sorry for myself.
That was every girl’s right after a breakup.
Because that’s what this felt like: a breakup in all but name. Milo and Cash both acted like they still wanted to see me, and I felt the tug of emotional caring—and maybe even love—when I thought about them, but how could I make that work if Riot was done? The three of them were always around each other. I’d constantly see Riot. The wound that burned hot and bright in my soul right now would continue breaking open, again and again, never healing.
It was ridiculous to think I could date three men at the same time, for this exact reason. Three men meant three points of failure instead of one. It was a tripod of a relationship; if one leg failed, the other two couldn’t hold it up by themselves.
Fresh tears began running down my cheeks, and as soon as I heard rock music from another bar, I crossed the street, showed my ID to the bouncer, then ducked inside.
It was a dive bar in every sense of the word, dark and smoky and filled with the scent of stale beer and bad decisions. The live music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.
Perfect.
I went to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and two beers to drink as a chaser. The liquor burned hot down my throat, and I imagined it was disinfecting the scar on my heart. Helping me heal before I actually healed.
At the end of the room was a raised platform where the band was playing. A drummer, a bassist, and a lead singer with a guitar. Just like Cherry Midnight, minus the keyboard player. I squeezed through the crowd and found an empty chair at a table occupied by a guy who looked like a biker, with a gray beard and a leather jacket and a scowl that warned me to stay away.
I plopped down into the chair and met his gaze, daring him to tell me it was taken. He didn’t.
I quickly finished one beer and began nursing the other while listening to the music and thinking about what my next move would be. Getting a hotel sounded like a good idea; I was making enough from my freelance gigs that I could afford it, at least for tonight. I didn’t want to go back to the tour bus.
Shit. My stuff was there. Deciding that was a tomorrow problem, I leaned back in the chair and watched the band. Booking a flight home could also wait until tomorrow.
Tonight, all I wanted to do was forget about the past three months.
The band wasn’t very good, but live music was still live music, and it calmed a part of my brain in a way that nothing else did. After a few more songs, the band announced that they were taking a short break, but would be back soon to play some more.
I looked at my empty beer bottle. My head was swimming with a healthy buzz. Another drink would be a mistake.
So I raised the bottle to the waitress who walked by and asked for another.
Up on stage, the lead singer was whispering to someone who looked like he worked at the bar. I watched them chat and couldn’t help but compare him to Riot. He didn’t have any tattoos, and his face was softer. But he sang and played the guitar all right.
Thinking of Riot made me sad again. I took a long pull of my new beer when the waitress returned.
“Folks, we’ve got a surprise for you,” the singer suddenly said into the microphone. “This is a surprise for us, too. You might have seen him play the Kaseya Center just two hours ago, but if not, you’re getting another chance. Please welcome to the stage, the lead singer and guitarist for Cherry Midnight… Riot Kane!”
48
Milo
“Do you think she suspects anything?” Cash asked me.
I shook my head. “Not a thing. She just ordered another beer.” We were standing at the back of the bar, and I pointed to where she sat up near the stage.
“So?”
“So,” I said, “if she knew we were here, she’d get up and run out the door. She’spissed, dude.”
“She’s upset,” Cash corrected. “Slight difference.”
“Whatever. Point is, she’s got no idea what’s coming.”
Cash let out a long sigh. I could tell my buddy was nervous. Hell, so was I. But I felt pretty confident that this was going to work.
Whatever reason she had for being in a funk these past weeks, I knew that Riot serenading her would make everything better again.
