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Because here in my booth, I wanted nothing more than to travel back in time to last night, to that moment after his mouth met mine and before Jamie’s bedroom light flicked on.
When that song ended, they switched back over to their more lively music, but that lulling first melody left me feeling as light as a feather.
I hated how fast the gig seemed to pass, the songs flying by. Harry’s gaze had strayed my way throughout the songs, and I mouthed the lyrics along with his singing. I couldn’t quite tell, but it almost looked like he smiled.
When they started their last song of the night, I turned to Addy. “I’m going to go get a refill before Jon dumps the coffee,” I said, raising my mug in case she hadn’t heard me over the music.
Addy ended up nodding, watching as I pushed to my feet. The crowd parted to let me slip by, filling in immediately behind me. I lifted my wig a little away from the skin on my neck, relishing in the cool sensation that swept across my skin.
A guy sat at the counter, and as I got closer, I noticed Jonathan speaking intently with him. The stranger leaned his head against his hand, totally captivated in conversation.
Jonathan saw me lingering, though. “Stella,” he greeted, welcoming me closer with a wave of his hand. “A refill?”
“Yes, please,” I told him, passing my mug over, glancing at the sitting figure. The guy’s eyes were a steely blue, blond stubble dotting his jaw and chin. He appeared to be in his early twenties, roughly the same age as Jonathan. “You here for the music?”
“I am,” he responded, voice pleasant and soft. “Or, well, the singer.”
I felt my eyebrows lift. “You’re here for Harry?”
Jonathan sat the refilled mug in front of me. “They’re old friends,” he told me, glancing at the customer. “Go way back.”
I nearly smiled at that. So, they’d been talking about life stories, huh?
The guy flashed Jonathan a warm smile, turning back to me with an outstretched hand. “I’m Terry.”
Terry. I knew that name. “Harry’s mentioned you. I’m Stella.” I slipped my hand into his.
“Stella is Harry’s girlfriend,” Jonathan added before I could say anything else.
I opened my mouth to interject, but the words fell apart on the tip of my tongue. Harry and I hadn’t really talked about labels or anything like that; we’d just kissed. Though I liked to think that made us exclusive, I wasn’t sure.
Terry looked at me closely, a crease between his eyebrows, expression strangely unsettling. “Oh. I didn’t realize he and Tash broke up.”
I wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that he’d called her “Tash” too or that he didn’t know they weren’t a thing anymore.
“Iamout of the loop,” he hurried on, no doubt seeing my worried expression. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I haven’t seen Harry in over a year—just wanted to support him.”
From the counter, the stage wasn’t fully visible, which meant Harry probably hadn’t spotted Terry yet. I took a sip of the hot coffee, the taste bitter. Jonathan forgot to put sugar in my drink like he normally did.
“Why haven’t you two spoken in so long?” I asked, reaching for a packet that sat in the middle of the tabletop.
“I was locked up,” Terry responded, leaning back against the counter. “We sent letters here and there, but it’s been a while since I’d seen Harry face-to-face.”
Locked up—the phrase almost sounded foreign. Locked up, like prison? For the past year? I almost wanted to laugh. Terry didn’tlooklike a criminal. With his straight-legged jeans and blue sweater, he looked as if he should be an accountant or something.
Even though I desperately wanted to know why a guy like him would’ve been to prison so young, not even Stella was forward enough to pry secrets from a stranger. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
Terry’s smile was very young, almost nervous. It made me want to reassure him further. “I hope so. He’s like a little brother to me.”
Not even thirty seconds later, Vincent landed the final drum beat to Untapped Potential’s last song, and I clapped along with the crowd.
“Thank you all for coming tonight!” Harry called to the audience. “Come back next weekend for some more music and awesome coffee.”
Natasha chimed in, bright and happy, “And don’t forget to follow us on social media!”
A few people stuck around, hoping to get a few autographs from the band. They were garnering fans who wanted something personal. Another rung on the ladder, and they were climbing their way up. Pride swelled in my chest.
“So, how long have you known Harry again?” I asked Terry as we waited for them to come to the counter.
