Play (Stage Dive, #2)(15)

“Sorry. Yes, I talked to Mal, the drummer.”

“About?”

There was the question on everyone’s lips.

“Not much, it was only briefly. He was busy. There were lots of people there.” For some reason, I was loath to admit to more. Actually, for several reasons. Talking to Reece about another man would be weird. Also, I’d clearly blown the night out of proportion when it came to Mal Ericson. There’d been no connection. No one had looked into anyone else’s soul. My fevered imagination had clearly been working overtime last night. So I rushed right on. “David seemed nice. Ben was there too, but I didn’t really get to speak to him.”

“You’re totally dropping names right now.” He chuckled.

I gave him a friendly smack in the ribs. “You asked. It’s not name dropping if you asked.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Don’t beat me up. So can you get me into the next party there?”

“I doubt I’ll be going to another party there, Reece. It was a pure fluke I wound up there last night.”

“What use are you?” he joked.

The elderly tie-dyed woman shuffled toward the counter with a copy of The Alchemist in hand.

“That’s a great book. I think you’ll really like it.” I rang up her purchase and handed it over for her to put in her reusable bag. Was there anything more wonderful than sending someone home with a book you loved? No, there was not.

I turned to Reece, who was straightening up some credit card receipts. “So you want to hang out tonight?” I asked. “If you’re not doing anything. Maybe I’ll try to perfect my martini.”

“Hmm, I’m kind of leaving my calendar open tonight. There’s a girl I’m waiting to hear from.”

Of course there was.

“Buuut,” he strung out the word. “If she doesn’t call me, how about I come over for a martini?”

My heart sank a little bit. Stupid heart. I put on a fake smile. “Sure, Reece, it’s not like I have anything better to do than wait around for you all night.”

“Exactly,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. At that moment, I wondered what exactly I had been chasing and why. Answer: a dream, because I was an idiot. Maybe Mal had a point about my usability. I’d covered for mom for so many years, perhaps the habit had stuck.

He was fiddling with his phone now, a goofy half smile on his face. “She wants to meet up,” he said. “So … I have a huge favor. Could you close up tonight? Since you’re not doing anything?”

“I should really say no. Shit, Reece. I’m not a total loser. I do have some boundaries.” No matter what Malcolm Ericson said.

“Please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have asked that. And I respect your boundaries, I do. I’m an ass and you’re a name-dropping celebrity party animal. Forgive me?” He didn’t look sorry, just vaguely desperate. But whatever, this was Reece. The man had offered me his couch last night as an emergency home.

And let’s face facts. He was right; I didn’t have any grand plans outside of reading.

“Alright,” I said, resentment burning deep down in my soul. It soon gave way to sadness. Probably, I should buy chocolate or alcohol on my way home. A truly wise use of the extra money made from the extra hours. Chocolate martini, here I come.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

“No worries. Not like I have anything going on.”

It wasn’t as if I’d be seeing Mal ever again.





CHAPTER FIVE


Something was wrong. Again. This time, I knew it before I walked in the door.

Work had picked up in the afternoon. There’d been no more time for worry, or bitter and twisted thoughts. Definitely a good thing. Now, I was ten types of tired. Two hours of sleep and stressing over money had done me in. The icy cold wind I’d walked in after getting off the MAX had frozen my neck and the tip of my nose. Any chocolate-and booze-fetching plan had flown straight out the window. I wanted a bath and bed. That was my entire plan for the night and it was a beautiful thing.

In a daze, I slid my key into the lock, which was when the door flew in–it wasn’t even latched. Balance shot to shit, I fell, face planting in the middle of a hot, hard, sweaty chest.

I oomphed.

He grunted.

Strong hands grabbed me about the waist, holding me steady. A good thing, I really needed a hand right then or my ass might’ve met the floor. Perhaps I’d entered the wrong apartment. My mind had been elsewhere, worlds away from reality. Another apartment would certainly explain the delicious warm body I was up against.

Since when did sweat smell so good?

It was all I could do not to rub my face in, breathing deep. A sniff or two shouldn’t be going too far. Discreetly done, of course.

“Anne. Dude.” The chest vibrated beneath my cheek. “Welcome home!”

I knew that voice. I did. But what the hell was it doing in my apartment? Stunned, I blinked up at a familiar beautiful face. “Mal?”

“’Course it’s me.” He laughed. “You on drugs or something? You shouldn’t do drugs. They’re not good for you.”

“I’m not doing drugs.” Though drugs might have gone a ways toward explaining what I was seeing. Because what I was seeing was surreal. “You’re here.”