Page 28

“It’s a pleasure,” Benjamin says, shaking my hand. “Rocco and I are headed to the bar for a pint. Can we get you anything?”

I shake my head, still nursing my Diet Coke. Mackenzie must do the same, because the two turn and disappear into the crowd, which has grown relatively thick with bodies.

“You can go with them.” I swivel around to face him. “Don’t feel like you have to sit here on my account. I’m fine hanging out with Koko.”

No sooner do I say it than Zee and Koko stand. We both watch as he takes her by both hands, pulling her onto the dance floor, where he lets go of one arm to twirl her in tight. She laughs as they connect, then runs her arms up and down the front of his chest as he begins to sway to the music.

I don’t know Koko that well, and I have talked to Zee for all of five minutes, yet I have a strong suspicion that if things continue, they will be doing a whole lot more than dancing by the end of the night. I can practically see the dopamine releasing from their pores.

“Do you want to?” Mackenzie’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Want to what?” I ask, wondering if he, too, is speculating about Koko and Zee.

“Dance.” He points at the empty patch of dance floor between Zee’s back and a high-top table.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

I turn my head just in time to see his smile slip.

“Sorry.” I shake my head. “That didn’t come out right. I’m just…a horrible dancer. The chances of you stepping onto that floor perfectly fine and then leaving with a serious injury are way higher than you’d want them to be. You have a show to play tonight, and I have a conscience.”

Mackenzie flashes a smile. “I do use all ten of my toes pretty regularly.”

His eyes slide back to the dance floor. Mine do the same, just in time to see Zee drop Koko into a low dip. She laughs, throwing her head back, and I feel a tiny stab of jealousy. I wonder if I made the wrong call too fast.

“Thanks again for coming out tonight.” Mackenzie leans forward so the sides of our arms touch. “I get the sense this probably isn’t your scene, but I’m glad you’re here.”

My heart, which I assumed had long ago morphed into a solid, impenetrable lump, softens enough to feel a small pang of guilt at my earlier lie.

“Was that one of your songs? The slow one?”

Mackenzie nods as he takes a sip of the water he abandoned earlier.

“It was really good,” I tell him honestly. “I know you weren’t sure about the band, and I’m not, like, super into music or anything, but I think it’s actually working out—really well.”

He leans back in his seat, surveying the bar. “What do you think the odds are that some big music producer in the crowd tonight is looking for a songwriter to sign?”

I incline my head toward a guy in a Leafs jersey, chugging a full pint as his two friends pound in unison on the table. “You never know—could be that guy.”

Mackenzie watches him down half a beer, spilling most of it down his chin.

“Or that guy.” He points to a man with a side part and a thick black mustache.

I follow his finger. “I’m pretty sure that’s my dentist.”

The guy looks over as if he can sense we’re talking about him. We make eye contact, and he waves.

“Hey, Dr. Foster,” I say softly, waving back.

Mackenzie laughs beside me. “So not him.”

“Nope. But if you need a good dentist in the city, he’s usually taking patients.”

Mackenzie grins and opens his mouth, and I get the sense that he is about to say something, but then he stops as three women approach our table.

They are around my age. Pretty. With tiny tops that show off toned arms and flat stomachs and make me very aware I am wearing a five-year-old T-shirt I got for free from a charity walk-a-thon.

“Hey,” says one with very red lips and dark eyes fixed only on Mackenzie. “We were here last weekend.”