I thank Molly and tuck the napkin into the back pocket of my jeans. And then I narrowly miss cutting my thumb off as I start slicing limes again. I curse myself and concentrate on work and not the hot straight dude with the amazing voice.
2
CHASE
“To a great set!” Joe says as he raises the fresh beer I just handed him into the air.
“To a fucking amazing set,” Grant adds, lifting his glass.
I lift the glass of Merlot I poured for myself. “To the bar back with rhythm who saved our asses.”
Rhythm, a smokin’ hot body, and a hell of a set of bedroom eyes, I add to myself. Bowen Whitlock grew up to be one great looking guy. Not to mention talented as fuck. And he saved our asses tonight without even blinking, which I am still amazed by.
We clink our drinks and all take a sip. My eyes move through the loft to the front door. I wonder if he’ll show? Grant moves to the living room area and Joe follows, so I follow them both. “What was his name again?” Joe asks as he sinks into my black velvet couch. “Bryan?”
“Bowen,” I correct as I sit on the oversized leather ottoman by the fire and Grant puts his ass in one of the club chairs. “Bowen Whitlock.”
“Whitlock?” Joe’s dark eyes narrow. “Why do I know that name?”
“There’s a Whitlock running for mayor,” Grant says. “The farmer dude whose parents were killed a few winters ago.”
“Five winters ago. And yeah, Bowen’s his younger brother,” I add and sip my wine. “I was at the funeral, but I don’t think he remembers.”
“Why?” Grant wants to know.
“I was in college and my grandfather went to pay his respects and asked me to go with him,” I explain. “He didn’t know the family. It was a political move. He thought it would look good since he was an assemblyman for the state and the accident made the news and everything. It was an election year after all.”
I see the sour look I know I’m sporting reflected back at me in the faces of my bandmates. Joe shakes his head. “Man, your family sucks.”
“That they do,” I agree without hesitation. Joe and Grant have both known me long enough to be able to make those statements. Grant went to boarding school with me when I was a teenager and Joe was my roommate freshman year here in Vermont. I’ve never held back any of the horrible truths of life as a member of a political family. They know this hobby—as my father calls it—has been a key component in helping me cope with my family obligations since I graduated college. “Anyway, I don’t think Bowen recognized me. I met him for all of five seconds on the worst day of his life.”
Joe takes a long swig from his beer. “Well, hopefully we get to play again at Vino and Veritas. I had a blast.”
“Yeah. I think Tanner would book us again, but I also think we should find a new drummer before that,” I say, studying their faces to see how they react to that. Bennie has been in the band since it formed. He didn’t go to Moo U with me and Joe, but he’s from Burlington. He went to Harvard with Grant and then moved back home to take over his family’s construction business. Only, it’s been years and his dad hasn’t given him the reins yet. “Bennie just isn’t reliable.”
“I agree,” Joe says without pause. “He was late to our last gig, and he bailed on practice a few times, including last week.”
Grant looks conflicted, which is fair. He’s the one who brought Bennie into the fold. I don’t mean to put their friendship in the line of fire, but I guess I should have thought of that before I fooled around with Bennie. I don’t know for sure but I’m betting that’s why he ghosted us tonight. “Yeah. I don’t think we really have a choice.”
“That’s why I invited Bowen over for drinks when he gets off work,” I say. It’s a half-truth, but Grant and Joe don’t need to know that right now. “I figured we could see how we vibe with him since he didn’t really get to talk much at the bar. And then if it feels right, we could ask him to join.”
“This is all happening really fast,” Grant says and scratches his head. “I mean I’m not against it, but let’s get to know him better and see how it goes.”
“Fair enough,” I say as Joe nods and shrugs at the same time, as if to say whatever.
Joe is really easy going which is how we stayed so close all through college and now well into our adult lives. He’s never intrusive, doesn’t have strong opinions. He’s like Switzerland in human form. Also, he didn’t blink twice when I told him I fooled around with a guy and I liked it during the first semester of college. I don’t trust that information with many people, but I knew I could trust Joe.
A loud buzz echoes through the loft and I jump up a little too quickly and make my way to the door. If Joe or Grant took note of my enthusiasm, they don’t say anything. They start a conversation about the upcoming NHL playoffs, ignoring me completely. I don’t even ask who it is, I just say, “Take the elevator to the third floor.” Then I hit the button that unlocks the door to the lobby of the building.
I lean against the wall and sip my wine and wait for Bowen. Joe calls out, “Alexa play the playlist After Gigs”
“Playing your playlist After Gigs,” Alexa replies dutifully.
The apartment fills with the first chords of a Nirvana tune. We created this playlist, together, drunk, and add to it after every gig, also while drunk. So sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised by what’s on it. The elevator lists open and Bowen blinks, confused. “Wait… I’minyour apartment?”
“Yeah. I have the top two floors,” I tell him as he tentatively steps off the elevator and the doors slide closed behind him.
“And the roof!” Grant calls out and gives Bowen a welcoming wave. Bowen nods hello back.
