“Max—” Jack thumped my back, irritating the shit outta me. “Chaos here insists you lost your balls after your hiatus from life and won’t walk over there and play that old baby.”
“Stakes?”
“You move back in with me.”
“No.” Like I needed a damn babysitter. I signaled Ray for a refill then glanced to where Jack pointed, half expecting to see some geriatric chick—he’d done shit like that before—not that I’d back down from it. I’d buy the woman a drink, talk for a bit, and leave. Instead, I spied the baby grand piano parked against the wall in the back, just off the bar. I hadn’t played anything in over four months. Maybe music would ease the frustration inside me. I cut Jack a flat look. “I can play anything. And since you’re so interested, my balls are just fine.”
“Could have fooled me,” he muttered, nodding to the brunette at the next table, who was now furtively watching us. She’d given methelook a while ago. Normally, I’d nod, and she’d be over in a flash, but she didn’t interest me. The one who did—the one who I wanted—was with fucking Charlie. Not me.
Ray appeared with a plate piled high with spicy wings and set it in front of War. She set my beer down.
“Here’s your feeding trough.”
Giving her a drunken smirk, he snagged her by the waist and hugged her with one arm. “Thanks, sweetness. I’m starving.”
She snorted and pushed his hand away. “Then stop boozing and eat.”
He grunted, diving into his food.
“Bug, another.” Jack lifted his empty bottle.
“I’m gonna punch you in the face you call me that again.”
He grinned. “Beer first.”
Before she made good on her threat, I handed Ray her cell. “The piano works?”
Still scowling, she gave the instrument a fleeting look. “Yeah, it does. Jude bought it for his wife, but she walked out on him with his best friend, so it stays here. He says it’s to remind him of the perfidy of women.” She rolled her eyes.
Blocking out whatever comments she made about men deserving to be on the receiving end, I made my way to the piano. Opening it, I ran my fingers over the keys. All sounded in tune, so I pulled out the stool. The noise level in the room lowered a little, but I didn’t care about chatting drunks or the blaring TV.
I played something easy at first, one of my old compositions, and as the music spilled out, a soothing calm descended over me. The room hushed and faded away. Music filled my head until it was just the piano and me…
When the last notes faded, a thunderous applause reverberated through the bar, bringing me back fast. Pain jabbed the left side of my skull. Fuck! I rubbed my temple. I didn’t care about public approval. I’d just wanted to play, find some peace. Drawn back into the chasm of pain, I realized I should head back to the apartment, the quiet would ease me, but the idea didn’t appeal.Shewasn’t there.
The emptiness back in spades, I weaved my way to my friends because reality sucked. She wasn’t with me but some asshole named Charlie.
Ila
It was long past two in the morning, when I finally left Charli and managed to get a cab and drag myself home. My head was spinning. Ugh, maybe I shouldn’t have had that last drink. But Charli was so upset… I pulled out my key. Ray would be asleep. Max was downstairs, so I had to be really quiet, move with the stealth of a thief. I giggled at the thought.
Yup, I was totally wasted.
After several attempts at unlocking the door—the damn keyhole just wouldn’t stay still—I stumbled inside, knocking my shin into the side table. “Shit!” the curse flew out before I could stop myself.
A light clicked on. Hands grabbed my upper arms. I yelped and lashed out, hitting a warm chest. Then I saw who it was. “Hiya, Max.” I hiccupped. Oops.
“It’s nearly three.” His low tone held an undercurrent of anger and something else, something that even in my inebriated state I didn’t want to examine too closely. Because my body felt too warm being so close to him.
“You make enough noise to wake the dead.”
With one hand on his chest, I pushed away from him and carefully picked my way to the kitchen, determined not to fall flat on my face.
“I didn’t trip…” Darn, I needed a clever answer. Admitting I’d stumbled over my own feet wouldn’t work. It would only confirm any suspicion he had that I was drunk. I snorted. For some reason, walking and thinking at the same time was harder than I remembered. Ooh, I got it. The perfect response. I paused, faced him, and lifted my finger in the air as emphasis. “The table got in my way.”
But the brooding guy in front of me wasn’t amused. His hair was a tousled mess, heck, he was sending out all kinds of angry, frustrated vibes that were slowly netting me, sending goosebumps all over my skin, even my nipples tightened. I shuddered.
“Where were you?”
