When Darkness Falls(3)

“Where do you want to get?”

He laughed. “That’s too philosophical a question for tonight.” Devon glanced at the clock over the bar. “You want to sign up for the open mike? The sheet’s over there.” He pointed to the end of the bar. “You can borrow my guitar.”

“No, thanks.”

“Don’t like to play alone?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. It’s just—I learned guitar from Brian.” Haley could have kicked herself. She’d been dating and playing music with Brian since she’d turned sixteen, so all roads seemed to lead to him. But she didn’t need to keep making such a point of it. “I learned what he liked. Folk music. Bluegrass. And that’s the style I played and wrote in. Now that I’ve been away from it, I’m not sure I like it. I used to practice two hours a day whether I felt like it or not. Now I don’t. It’s like I can’t.”

“I went through a time like that.” Devon shook his glass, rattling the ice cubes in it. “My brother died and I didn’t play for a year. I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry. What happened to him?”

“An accident. That’s when I started smoking again, too, but I’m trying to quit.” He stubbed out his half-finished cigarette. “I don’t talk much about my brother. It’s a lot for people to take in. Especially someone I met a few minutes ago.”

“It’s okay. I was thinking I shouldn’t have mentioned Brian.”

He touched her hand. “Don’t worry about it. What happened? With your ex? Unless you’d rather not say.”

“A lot of extracurricular activities. On his part. Apparently I was the only one who didn’t know.”

Devon shook his head. “Sorry.”

The open mike started and they turned toward the stage out of courtesy to the performers. Haley couldn’t focus on the music. All she could think of was Devon’s thigh and arm so close to her own. She hoped he wasn’t going to want to have a conversation about any of the songs afterward. And she worried about what would happen next, if anything.

People started drifting out once the last performer finished. Each time the front door opened, cold air rushed in, but Haley and Devon kept talking, side by side on their barstools. The bartender refilled their drinks one last time, then made his way out from behind the bar and started putting chairs on tables. He was heavy and mostly bald with a little gray hair around the sides. He moved quickly and almost gracefully.

“Should we be leaving?” Haley said.

“No, though I should be helping.” Devon slid off his barstool. “Al, I want you to meet someone.”

The bartender ambled back toward them, a smile crinkling his eyes. “I was wondering when you’d get around to it.” He shook Haley’s hand. His was fleshy and warm and his grip had just the right amount of pressure. She felt comfortable with him immediately.

“Al thinks he owns this place,” Devon said.

“Except for that little corner over there by the broom closet,” Al said. “That’s Devon’s. It’s the only reason he gets away with smoking in here now and then.”

Al told her Devon’s father had once been his partner in running The Underground. Devon had taken over from his father five years ago.

Haley checked her watch. “I need to go soon. The last train’s twelve-thirty.”

“I can give you a ride,” Devon said.

Haley hesitated, and then shook her head. Much as she’d like the extra time with him, she barely knew him. And, as she’d learned with Brian, people could hide a lot, even when you did know them. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’ll get a cab to the station.”

Al finished cleaning, and when the double doors to the back room swung shut after him, The Underground fell silent. The chairs were flipped upside down on the tables, and darkness shrouded the stage. One candle flickered on the bar. Haley glanced at her coat, which Al had draped over the barstool next to her. Now that she’d turned down a ride, she wasn’t sure how to make clear she wanted to see him again.

“I had a wonderful time.” Her voice sounded small in the empty room. She cringed. The words were ones she remembered saying as a little girl after a birthday party.

Devon touched her cheek, leaned forward, and kissed her.

His mouth fit hers perfectly in a way that Brian’s never had. He pressed closer, hands on her waist, and pulled her off the barstool and against him. His fingers wound into her hair, his lips slid down her neck, teeth grazing her, sending electric currents along her skin. She closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the feel of him.

A door slammed somewhere, and Haley pulled back, remembering she was with someone who was almost a stranger.

For a moment, Devon’s grip tightened, but he let go a second later. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“Me, too,” Haley said.

“I guess we like each other.”

“I guess so.” Her lips tingled. She glanced out the front window. Dearborn Street was empty, other than the parked cars lining both sides of it. The clock over the bar said five after twelve.

Devon took her coat and held it open for her. “Do you want to go out sometime?” he asked as she turned and slid her arms into the sleeves. Few men had ever held a coat for her, and those who had were her dad’s age. They usually positioned it too high or too low, so that she needed to struggle into it and wished they’d leave her to put it on herself. Devon got it right.