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“Nah, Mia can use the company. When are you guys coming back? I want to grab dinner at the Mexican place that opened down the street.”
“Umm… okay. We should be home in the next two hours.”
We say our goodbyes. My heart sinks into my stomach when I see the deflated look on Mia’s face.
“We’re not going to dinner now, are we?”
“No,” I confess. “But I’ll make it up to you this week.”
“When Will isn’t around?”
I sigh. “I didn’t want to tell him no.”
“I’m not mad, E. I get it. Keep it casual. Friends with benefits don’t go to fancy dinners with each other. So, I guess I won’t be needing a dress.” She releases her grip on my hand.
“We’ll find a way, okay? Tonight is a small bump in the road. Get the dress because you’ll need it, and your brother will get suspicious if you don’t come home with at least one bag.”
“Right.” She bites her lip. “Good point.”
I pull her onto my lap and plant soft kisses along her collarbone and shoulder before making my way to her lips. She smells of her flowery perfume. Drinking in her delicious scent, I burrow my face in her neck. A chill runs through her body that causes her to tremble in my arms. I love having this effect on her.
“You two doing okay in there?” Alanna asks from the other side of the door.
Define okay.
“Yes,” I say. “We need more time.”
I need more time to tell Will.
“Oh, okay. Perfect. I’ll be in the shoe department if you need me.”
The second Alanna disappears, my mouth is on Mia’s, and my tongue is parting her lips. We need this time alone before we have to go back to her apartment. Before we have to face Will.
When I walk into Old City Records, the bell over the door chimes. Connor pokes his head out from the backroom and waves with a bright smile on his face.
He strolls down the center aisle toward me. “You’re early.”
I glance at my wrist to check the time. “Only by a few minutes.”
“I was cleaning up in the storeroom. Do you mind holding down the fort until I finish?”
“Go right ahead. I can handle the customers.”
I slip behind the counter and drop my purse to the shelf beneath the register. Connor taps his fingers against his thigh as the beat picks up and John Lennon’s voice comes through the overhead speakers. An awkward pause passes between us, where he hums the tune, staring out the window that spans the front of the store.
“I love this song,” he says. “I’ve been rocking out to The Beatles all day. They help me clear my head.”
“I can see that.” I sit on the stool behind the counter and prop my feet up on the small wooden ledge.
Connor’s behavior is odd, but it doesn’t prove a thing. All of my leads ran cold before I could make any headway. Fred has been crawling up my ass about my lack of useful information. He even threatened to remove me from the case, so I have to step up my game.
“Were you busy today?”
Connor shrugs. “An older couple stopped by around lunchtime. They were looking for Abbey Road. That’s what got me in this mood. Other than that, I’ve had a pretty quiet day.”
When my cell phone dings, I fish it from my purse and smile when I see Ethan’s name on my screen.
“I’ll let you take that,” Connor says. “I have to get back to work. We can order a pizza later if you want. My treat.”
I flash a closed-mouth smile. “Sounds great. Thank you.”
Once Connor disappears into the back of the store, I read the text message from Ethan.
Ethan: I need to see you. Dinner later?
Mia: I have to work until ten.
Ethan: I’ll pick you up.
Mia: See you then.
The countdown until Ethan and Will move back into their apartment started a few days ago. My heart aches with each passing day. He wants to tell Will about us. I do too. But both of us are afraid of losing Will over our relationship.
I’ve grown accustomed to kissing Ethan before bed and eating breakfast with Will in the morning. I’ll miss both of them for different reasons. At least we have a few more days together.
Twice in over two hours, Connor stepped out from the back office. Once, Connor said he was running down the street to grab a soda from the pharmacy, the other time a pizza. He came back with a duffle bag over his shoulder from his pharmacy run and a pizza in his hand the next.
We ate a few slices together and talked about vinyl records and music from the seventies, all while I tried to uncover more information about his business. Same as usual, I got nothing. Connor covers his tracks well. Or at least he was doing a pretty good job of it before a dark-haired man in his late twenties strolls through the front door.
