“We used to go there all the time when we were in high school,” Cole told me. “Crazy to think it’s still around more than a decade later.”
“Things here don’t change much,” I admitted. “The Crooked Stool, the bar I work at, opened in 1991, and it’s still going strong. Coming back here must be like jumping into a time machine for you guys.”
Cole nodded in agreement. “We’ve come back a bunch of times over the years, but never for this long. So we’re definitely taking a walk down memory lane.”
“Hopefully, it’s a pleasant walk,” I offered, wondering if they were enjoying their time back here.
Abel scoffed from the front. “The first thing we did when we got back was bury our friend, so yeah, really pleasant.”
Blood drained from my face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—” I began.
“Abel, don’t fucking start,” Ezra’s words were loud and almost drowned out mine. The drummer caught my gaze in the mirror, his face twisted in a grimace. To my right, Cole wore a surprised expression that disappeared as soon as he saw me looking at him. Something told me his surprise had more to do with Ezra’s intervention than what Abel had said.
In the span of a few seconds, the atmosphere in the car changed. I cursed myself for the thoughtless comment. Things had been going well so far. Then again, Abel must know I didn’t mean to make light of their situation, so why had he lashed out like that at me?
Whatever. It seemed like the key was to stay focused on the task at hand and not ask too many personal questions. I could do that. I didn’t need to know them well to do my job.
I cleared my throat, and earned a soft pat on the knee from Silas. “Sorry. It’s been a difficult time for all of us,” the guitarist said.
Abel huffed, but I ignored him. Grief was an intimate friend of mine, and I knew better than to push someone who was still deeply entangled with it.
“Of course. I get it.”
Silas pulled his hand away, and I could sense him turning to look at me, but then we were pulling into the parking lot, and seconds later, I eagerly jumped out of the car.
The diner was busy with lunchtime traffic, but we were able to find a booth at the back that managed to fit all of us. This time, I sat on the edge of the bench, Ezra to the right of me, Cole and Abel in the two corners, and Silas directly across. We placed our orders with a young waitress who didn’t seem to recognize the guys, but she nevertheless gave them appreciative looks. A blush colored her cheeks by the time she left to give our orders to the kitchen.
“So, Adeline, tell us more about yourself,” Ezra said as soon as the waitress was gone. “You said you were born and raised in River Valley? Where did you go to school?”
He smelled like pine up close, but I didn’t think it was cologne. Maybe his detergent or soap? It mixed with another, more subtle, male scent that I couldn’t name, but it made me want to bury my face into his neck and just breathe deeply.
I was a freak.
“Yeah, I’ve lived on Harrows Street my whole life and went to Chestnut High.”
“We lived on the other side of town,” Cole commented.
“You must have gone to Middlemar then?”
“That’s right. How old are you?” the bassist asked, shamelessly trailing his eyes over me.
I raised a brow. “Twenty-one. And you?”
“Fair enough.” He laughed. “I just turned thirty. The rest of the band are around that age. Got siblings?”
“You said you had a younger sister, right?” Ezra chimed in, recalling what I’d told him earlier today. “Cole said she’s going to college soon?”
“Yeah, her name is Molly. She’s going to study business and marketing at Northeastern starting the end of August,” I said.
“You both live with your parents?”
“Here are your drinks,” the waitress said, saving me from answering that question. I didn’t need to get into my life story with a group of men I still wasn’t sure I’d see again after today.
When she left the table, I jumped in to steer the conversation into safer waters. “So you guys want to release the new album this year?”
Cole sipped on his Coke and nodded. “That’s the plan. Now that we’ve found you, we’re hoping we’ll get the recording done soon, and then we can get the hell out of River Valley.”
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Abel grit out, his voice low.
