“Well,” I say after a second, trying to recover my balance,“that’s not intimidating at all.”
“It’s meant to be reassuring.”
“It’s working,” I admit quietly.
The music starts a few minutes later. The sound of a soft acoustic guitar fills the room, making conversation feel easier rather than harder. I realize after a moment that Blake isn’t watching the stage at all.
He’s watching me.
“You’re not even listening,” I whisper.
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m listening to you listening,” he corrects.
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is now.”
I shake my head, but I can’t stop smiling.
Halfway through the second song, my phone vibrates against the table.
I almost ignore it.
Almost.
But when I glance down and see the name on the screen, my stomach drops. The feeling is so sudden that the room seems quieter than it actually is.
James.
The message is short.
We should talk.
I stare at the screen longer than I mean to.
“Lisa?” Blake says gently.
I look up. He’s watching me carefully now.
“What happened?”
I hesitate. Then I flip the phone over.
“It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t believe me. I can tell immediately.
“Perth?” he asks quietly.
I blink.
“How did you…”
“I saw you at the game,” he says.“When you saw him.”
