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“Since he was fifteen,” he replied. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
A heavy quality hugged his tone, and this time, I reached out and touched his wrist. His sweater scratched against my skin, but it drew his eyes to mine. “I’m serious. If you’re as close as you say, he’ll be thrilled to see you.”
“Terrance Greybeck!”
Jonathan, Terry, and I all turned toward Harry’s raised voice, finding him staring at his old friend with a shocked expression on his face. His dropped jaw morphed into a disbelieving grin, and then he moved forward, away from the straggling crowd. In a second, he had his arms around Terry.
“Hey, redcap,” Terry said to him, a laugh accompanying the words.
Harry pulled away enough to look directly at Terry, shaking his head. “What are you doing here? You still had—”
“I got out a few weeks early on good behavior,” he said, shoving Harry in the shoulder. “Notthathard to actually do what I’m told.”
Harry’s grin faltered, almost as if Terry’s words triggered a different thought in him. I couldn’t explain what might’ve caused the sudden change, but it flickered in a flash. “You were always a kiss up,” Harry replied, but before he could say anything else, Natasha broke free from the few lingering fans.
“Look who decided to show his face,” she declared, coming up with her arms folded across her chest. “You look scruffy.”
Terry regarded her for a second before a grin cracked his features. “Tash, you look…the same, actually.”
With a laugh, she jumped into his arms, squeezing him tight.
Their laughter echoed in my ears, and I couldn’t help but feel a little excluded from the reunion since two out of three of them were practically strangers to me.
Maybe I needed to give them some space to catch up. Vincent and Addy now sat in the booth together, and even from where I stood, I could see that Vincent lifted her hand to press his lips against her knuckles. That wassonot a moment I wanted to break in on.
Jonathan headed back into the kitchen with a tied-off trash bag, and I followed him. “So, Terry is totally hot,” I said as he collected the remnants of garbage from the kitchen’s bin. “Saw you chatting him up. Prison, that’s…edgy.”
“And sketchy,” Jonathan countered, but I saw his lips twitch. “He didn’t really strike me as the bad-boy type.”
I wondered what Terry did to land him in prison, because with that sweater, he didn’t look like trouble at all. “Did you get his number?”
Jonathan gave me a look.
“Hey, you’re the one who said you’d talk about college-aged guys,” I said, recalling the conversation we once had with Addy. “Terry totally looks college age.”
With a hard yank, Jonathan tied the kitchen’s trash shut, then carried both bags to the back door. He ducked outside, his figure momentarily blending into the shadows. “I’m not like you. I don’t have game.”
“Destelle didn’t have game either,” I pointed out. “Stella, though, has got some. Ever thought of trying on a wig?”
“You’rehilarious,” Jonathan said with a roll of his eyes, nudging me playfully as he came back inside.
“I’m serious, you could try Stella on.” I patted the top of my synthetic head of hair. “Your alter ego name could be Jonny. Or Nathan—ooh, you couldsobe a Nathan.”
Jonathan still wasn’t amused.
When we got back out to the front, everyone still stood talking. Vincent and Addy had joined the conversation, and Vincent was evensmiling. Harry’s gaze immediately found mine, and when I stepped close enough, he picked my hand up, slipping his fingers around my own. I remembered the way those exact fingers strummed the guitar tonight, a delicate touch that elicited a beautiful sound.
“I actually joined in November,” Vincent told Terry, glancing at Natasha, who even looked cheerful herself. “They came into Crushed Beanz one day looking for a place to play, and the rest is history.”
“Definitely fate,” Harry agreed. “Even better that you could keep a beat. When you first volunteered for the drummer position, I was afraid you were going to suck.”
“He’d been so prepared for it,” Natasha added. “Remember, Harry, you said that it was basically a pity audition?”
“Okay, well, actually—don’t look at me like that, Vincent. How was I supposed to know you were going to be good?”
“I’m glad you actually did it,” Terry said, eyes trained on the boy beside me. “Started a band. You were always singing, ever since we met.”
“Not like that’s stopped.” Natasha seemed to notice me then, and her eyes roamed over my figure, an assessing gaze that almost had me squirming against Harry’s side. “Cute boots.”
