“Denver is a place,” he said.
Becca rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She’d become adept at that maneuver. “The person, you Nutter Butter.”
Linx tapped out a rhythm on the bar with his knuckles. One of the songs he’d been working on with Mach and Tanner. He didn’t chance a glance to Becca or Kellie.
“Own it,” Brek said again.
“Your friend is giving expert advice.” Kellie said. “Get it out there.”
“Promise you won’t be mad?” he asked Becca.
“No.” She did, however, stop folding the towels and gave him all of her attention.
He couldn’t be sure if this was a good thing or a not good thing.
He sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you, anyway.”
“This is gonna be good,” Brek said, his words monotone.
“Denver was a woman,” Linx said. Got it all out there. No secrets between them was a great way to lay the foundation of a future. Not that this was a secret. He just hadn’t told her. “She is a woman.”
Becca didn’t move. She did the thing she did that made a guy want to keep talking when he really didn’t want to keep talking.
“I don’t see her anymore.” He glanced to Brek for help.
Brek was, as expected, no help. Not with that shit-eating grin on his face. Oh, yes, he was enjoying this entirely too much.
He looked to Kellie. At least she had a semblance of sympathy in her expression.
“I haven’t seen her since before I met you.” Linx fiddled with his beer bottle.
Not only did Becca remain perfectly still, she also continued staring at him like Courtney did that time Gibson had hacked up a hairball into her favorite pair of shoes.
“This woman’s name isn’t really Denver, though, right?” Becca asked, her forehead all scrunched up.
Fuck a toaster, he was going to have to give details.
“No.” He stretched out the word. “Her name is Brittney. The guys called her Denver because she was from Denver.” Easy peasy. Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.
Yet, his pulse hit above-average beats per minute. He knew this because he could hear each beat in his eardrums.
“Tell her about Paris and New Jersey,” Brek chimed in.
Brek needed to skedaddle home to his wife and baby and everything that wasn’t busting Linx’s balls.
Brek, however, didn’t appear to have any intention of evacuation. He raised his eyebrows in Linx’s direction, and it was official.
Linx was going to murder hisformerband manager.
Becca squinted. “How many did you have?”
“Okay.” Linx held up his hands. “I can see how this looks bad.”
“You can?” Becca asked all therapist-y. It wouldn’t surprise him if she asked a follow-up question about how he felt.
Kellie was the only one who had his back when she said, “I think we should let Linx finish.”
Was Linx going to do the honest thing? The right thing? Tell Becca?
