Meet me in the lobby
Goddammit.
I swipe back to my conversation with Summer.
Me:
It’s okay. Hope your day was better
I grab my wallet, phone, and key card, and shove them into my pockets.
We pull up outside a bar in downtown Denver. I don’t register the name, or much of anything really, as I follow Helm through the crowd. It’s packed. Bodies pressed together, music competing with voices. Too loud and too warm.
Helm snags us two stools at the bar.
My gaze catches on a performer in the corner, singing a song I don’t recognize. No one’s paying her much mind, all caught up in their drinks or conversations. Is this how it was for Summer in Nashville? Playing to a room that didn’t know what it had.
“What can I get you?” The bartender knocks on the bar to get my attention.
“Budweiser.”
“Whatever IPA is on tap,” Helm adds, then turns to me. “Since when do you drink Bud?”
I shrug, pulling my phone out and placing it on the bar. The screen stays dark. I stare at it anyway, only looking up when Helm asks, “Still upset about the loss?”
The bartender slides our beers over. I take a sip and wince. “I’m never happy about a loss.”
“We’ll get back at it, Cap.”
I tap my phone screen. Still nothing from Summer.
“Dude, quit frowning.” Helm jostles my shoulder. “You’re killing my vibe.”
I raise a brow. “I don’t see any of the others here with you.”
He huffs, but his attention quickly shifts across the room. To a woman, of course. She’s pretty—dark hair, red lips, the kind of smile that used to be an invitation I’d accept without thinking. She catches us looking and says something to her friend.
I turn back to my beer and watch the singer. She’s good. Really good. Wasted on this crowd.
“Dude, they’re coming over,” Helm whisper-shouts, standing.
I check over my shoulder and, sure enough, the brunette and blonde are weaving through the crowd toward us. Their smiles widen as they get closer.
“Great,” I mutter as my stomach pitches.
The laughter, the clinking glasses, and the music press in from all sides.
I finish my beer in two long pulls and order another.
Helm’s already introducing himself to the blonde by the time I turn. “—and this is Miles.”
“Hi.” The brunette smiles almost shyly, but it looks all wrong.
She waits. I’m supposed to say something. I always have something to say.
“Ladies, can we buy you a drink?” Helm’s already got his charm dialed up.
I take a swig of my beer. Why the hell does Summer like this stuff?
