in her head. And she thought it would be a fantastic idea for Cal to join up with the Sinsationals for the remainder of their tour.
Her reasoning was sound. All of it. The financial side of things, the advertising it would provide for the bar. She insisted she’d be fine running things for a few weeks.
But she didn’t know just how complicated things were with Blake. Just how badly Cal had fucked up that relationship. The fact that Blake was going through some sort of an emotional crisis and purported to forgive him might not be relevant in a matter of days. Forgiveness wasn’t necessarily forever.
The guitar in his hand and the fact that he was standing in the lot at all were a testament to her powers of persuasion.
“What if I’m making a mistake?” he finally asked, somewhat embarrassed to hear the words come out of his mouth.
Yanmei pursed her lips sideways and took another sip from her coffee cup.
“You’re my boss, Calvin.” Her tone was kind, but firm.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means I’ve followed a lot of decisions you’ve made. And every one of those could have been a mistake, too.”
Shit, she had a point.
Cal didn’t have a response ready for that one. And she could apparently tell, because she beamed a grin at him and reached out to give his forearm a squeeze.
“It’s too late to back down now,” she said. “Blake’s seen you.”
Cal snapped his head up. She was right: Blake was hurrying across the lot toward where they idled. He looked... damn, he looked so happy.
Cal took it in for a moment: the glimmer of sun on Blake’s hair, the hurried bounce in his step, the hint of a smile playing at his expressive mouth. If he squinted and denied with all his might, Cal could almost pretend the last few years had never happened, that the Blake bounding excitedly toward him was the Blake of his youth.
“Send me a postcard, okay?”
Yanmei let go of his arm and drew her legs up into the SUV. She yanked the door closed just as Blake arrived, effectively trapping Cal there.
Blake looked at Cal, then looked at her, and greeted them both as a unit. His smile grew a little hesitant and his waving hand fell a little lower.
“Take care of my bar,” Cal said, his tone warning. Yanmei snorted out a raucous laugh and drew a cross over her chest with one finger.
“Cross my heart, it’ll still be standing when you get back.”
She said her hello and goodbye to Blake in a single moment, and before Cal knew it, his last lifeline was pulling away down the road, disappearing into traffic.
Cal tried not to notice how the wind tousled the curls at the nape of Blake’s neck. He wished he could think of anything else. Some sort of greeting that didn’t verge too closely on “You look hot today, old friend!”
He settled for an awkward smile. He jostled the guitar in his hand.
“Looks like I’m doing it.”
Blake, much to Cal’s surprise, embraced him. It was quick and companionable, a hug of innocent enthusiasm. A friend hug. Cal couldn’t hug back thanks to the guitar, so he stood there and endured it. Up close, Blake smelled so refreshing, so clean. Like he’d just showered but hadn’t shaved. Like fresh linen. Christ, Cal’s brain could go on.
“Hell yeah you are!”
Grinning so hard that crows’ feet formed at the edges of his eyes, Blake released Cal from the quick hug and stooped down, picking up the backpack sitting neglected at his feet.
“This is all you packed?” he asked, a little incredulous.
Cal shifted his weight from side to side. He hated being put on the spot like this.
“I’ve never done this before, remember?”
Blake laughed, then steered Cal toward the buses. He approached them at a speed that was practically a jog. Which wasn’t unusual for Blake, who hurtled through life at light speed. Cal always wondered why he was like that. Was he just desperate to experience as much as he could? Afraid of missing out?
Either way, it was
Her reasoning was sound. All of it. The financial side of things, the advertising it would provide for the bar. She insisted she’d be fine running things for a few weeks.
But she didn’t know just how complicated things were with Blake. Just how badly Cal had fucked up that relationship. The fact that Blake was going through some sort of an emotional crisis and purported to forgive him might not be relevant in a matter of days. Forgiveness wasn’t necessarily forever.
The guitar in his hand and the fact that he was standing in the lot at all were a testament to her powers of persuasion.
“What if I’m making a mistake?” he finally asked, somewhat embarrassed to hear the words come out of his mouth.
Yanmei pursed her lips sideways and took another sip from her coffee cup.
“You’re my boss, Calvin.” Her tone was kind, but firm.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means I’ve followed a lot of decisions you’ve made. And every one of those could have been a mistake, too.”
Shit, she had a point.
Cal didn’t have a response ready for that one. And she could apparently tell, because she beamed a grin at him and reached out to give his forearm a squeeze.
“It’s too late to back down now,” she said. “Blake’s seen you.”
Cal snapped his head up. She was right: Blake was hurrying across the lot toward where they idled. He looked... damn, he looked so happy.
Cal took it in for a moment: the glimmer of sun on Blake’s hair, the hurried bounce in his step, the hint of a smile playing at his expressive mouth. If he squinted and denied with all his might, Cal could almost pretend the last few years had never happened, that the Blake bounding excitedly toward him was the Blake of his youth.
“Send me a postcard, okay?”
Yanmei let go of his arm and drew her legs up into the SUV. She yanked the door closed just as Blake arrived, effectively trapping Cal there.
Blake looked at Cal, then looked at her, and greeted them both as a unit. His smile grew a little hesitant and his waving hand fell a little lower.
“Take care of my bar,” Cal said, his tone warning. Yanmei snorted out a raucous laugh and drew a cross over her chest with one finger.
“Cross my heart, it’ll still be standing when you get back.”
She said her hello and goodbye to Blake in a single moment, and before Cal knew it, his last lifeline was pulling away down the road, disappearing into traffic.
Cal tried not to notice how the wind tousled the curls at the nape of Blake’s neck. He wished he could think of anything else. Some sort of greeting that didn’t verge too closely on “You look hot today, old friend!”
He settled for an awkward smile. He jostled the guitar in his hand.
“Looks like I’m doing it.”
Blake, much to Cal’s surprise, embraced him. It was quick and companionable, a hug of innocent enthusiasm. A friend hug. Cal couldn’t hug back thanks to the guitar, so he stood there and endured it. Up close, Blake smelled so refreshing, so clean. Like he’d just showered but hadn’t shaved. Like fresh linen. Christ, Cal’s brain could go on.
“Hell yeah you are!”
Grinning so hard that crows’ feet formed at the edges of his eyes, Blake released Cal from the quick hug and stooped down, picking up the backpack sitting neglected at his feet.
“This is all you packed?” he asked, a little incredulous.
Cal shifted his weight from side to side. He hated being put on the spot like this.
“I’ve never done this before, remember?”
Blake laughed, then steered Cal toward the buses. He approached them at a speed that was practically a jog. Which wasn’t unusual for Blake, who hurtled through life at light speed. Cal always wondered why he was like that. Was he just desperate to experience as much as he could? Afraid of missing out?
Either way, it was
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