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I frown. Gibson has been drinking an awful lot lately. Being in a rock band doesn’t mean he needs to drink a six-pack every night.
“Let’s hit the diner.” Cash rubs his stomach. “I’m in the mood for meatloaf and potatoes.”
“I’m in.” Dylan agrees.
Cash and Dylan always agree. The two were best friends in high school and remain as close as ever. And now the women they’re dating are best friends.
I often disagree with them because I can and it irritates them. But in this case, I agree. The diner doesn’t have a liquor license.
“The diner it is,” I say as I exit the studio and turn toward Moon’s Diner.
“Race you there,” Jett says and sprints away. Gibson is hot on his heels.
“So, Leia,” Cash says and I notice he’s on one side of me while Dylan’s on the other.
I growl. I expect this shit from Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Not from them.
“She’s pretty,” Dylan adds.
“Single mom.”
I don’t need to say more. They know about my feelings for single moms. They know the entire story. They witnessed the fiasco while it played out.
“Not all single moms are the same as—”
My growl cuts him off. I’m not talking about her. I’m never talking about her.
“You're going to have to get over her at some point.”
I glare at Dylan. He holds up his hands.
“Fine. Hold onto a grudge about a woman for the rest of your life. You’ll die old and miserable all by yourself.”
Good. Alone is how I want to be.
“Leia didn’t seem impressed with your rockstar status,” Cash says.
I should have known they wouldn’t let it go. I increase my pace. Cash and Dylan are tall but they’ve got nothing on my height of six-foot-six. They have to jog to keep up with me.
“You can’t get rid of us,” Dylan says.
Cash points to my growling stomach. “You need to eat and you haven’t had time to stock your house yet.”
My mistake. I’ll make certain the house is never devoid of food again. As soon as I figure out a way to stop Gibson and Jett from eating all my food.
“Good afternoon,” Petal, an elderly woman who lives in town, greets us as we come upon her.
I don’t bother to greet her back. I usually try to be polite to the women in this town but the candle store owner is on a mission where I’m concerned.
“Have you thought about my suggestion?” she asks.
“No.”
She pats my arm. The patting quickly becomes petting. I step away from her and she sighs.
“You have time. Sexy book club isn’t for a few weeks.” She winks at me. “You’d make a great model.” She waves as she walks away.
“Model?” Dylan asks.
