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“You’re not going to lose her. She loves you. She’s just working on loving herself which is important too. We both know that.”
“I know. God. I sound selfish wanting her to come back before she’s ready.”
“You’re not selfish. But you are depressing me. It’s New Year’s Eve. I refuse to let you start the new year in this mood.”
“Yeah, okay, you’re right. Where do you want to go? I was thinking Newport? We haven’t been in a while.” He looks at his watch. “It’s almost three. We could probably make it down there before rush hour.”
It’s a weekly tradition–whenever Mack isn’t on tour with his band–that we go spend an afternoon at the beach. “Mack, every hour is rush hour here. But yes. And then I’m going to talk you into that Irish Pub I love. I bet they have Karaoke tonight too.” I flip down the visor and slide open the cover to the mirror.
I love hearing him sing, and the eyeroll I catch in my peripheral tells me he’s aware I’m implying he should. “I’m in, but only if you sing with me.”
I pull my long, blonde curls back into a tight, high ponytail and slide my sunglasses on, contemplating his request. He knows I don’t sing in front of anyone. The only reason he’s ever heard me is because he asked for my opinion on lyrics he was writing once, and my suggestion came out more musical than I intended. But heismy best friend, and I think it’ll help get his mind off Maci being gone. “Okay, as long as I get to choose the song.”
“Deal.”
CHAPTER FIVE
LEXY
Afterbrushingthesandoff my frayed jean shorts, I link my arm through Mack’s, leaning my head on his shoulder as we walk toward the bar. He unlinks his arm from mine, wrapping it around my shoulder and giving me a loving squeeze. A shiver runs through me when a cool breeze hits my bare arms. Living in California, I’m almost always good as long as the sun is shining, but it’s nearly 9:30 p.m. and way too late for only a tank top in December.
Mack glances at me and pulls away, reaching into his jean pockets and handing me his keys. “Go grab your hoodie, and I’ll go order you a shot. What song are we singing?”
I nod, taking the keys from. “Hmmm. Ooh, ‘Islands in the Stream?’”
“I’ll put our names down so we can get this over with.” His words tell me he’s annoyed I’m dragging him out, but he flashes me a smile, and I know he isn’t really.
“Two shots, please!” I yell over my shoulder on my way to the Jeep.
Tugging my plain red hoodie over my head, I enter the bar. The lights are dim, and the deep, brown wood used for the bar, booths and flooring make it even darker. Regardless, I immediately spot Mack in the back corner by the stage in a circular booth. I slide onto the black leather seat, and he pushes two shots of whiskey toward me. I don’t care much for hard liquor. I prefer beer, but I need liquid courage for this. “We are seventh on the list, so you better drink these now.”
I shoot both of my shots back quickly, not offering one to Mack. He hasn't had a single drink since he and Maci broke up even though alcohol was never the issue. I’m proud of him for the way he’s taking control of his life in every aspect he can.
Mack grins as my shot glasses hit the table. “I can’t wait to watch you sing in public for the first time.”
“I hate you.” While I’m one of the most confident people I know, I’ll admit–at least to myself–it’s more of afake it ‘til you make itkind of thing. It’s always worked for me, and I pride myself on my ability to be bold despite any anxiety. But tonight, I’m feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
When it’s our turn, I’m hesitant. “You’re fine, Lex. You know better than most that everyone here is already drunk, hardly paying attention and probably more concerned with finding someone to kiss at midnight. Let’s go!” He seems excited.
“Okay, I’m ready.” I shoot back the third shot the waitress just placed in front of me.
Before the chorus even hits, I’m surprisingly comfortable. This is fun. By the time we slide our mics back into their stand and find our seats back in the booth, we both have stupid grins on our faces.
“That’s it, next time I go into the studio to mess around, you’re coming with me,” Mack declares, leaning back into the booth.
“I kind of want to,” I admit. “That was fun. Is it weird for you to sing like that?”
“A little, since I’m used to performing my own songs. But I liked it. I needed this tonight. Although I’m sorry I’m the guy you’re stuck with on New Year's Eve.”
I roll my eyes and rest my chin on the palm of my hand. “I only like two people, Mack, and you’re one of them.”
“Cynical, as always.” He laughs.
Everyone at work has questioned if we were dating at one point or another, probably because I’m so naturally flirty. Despite the fact that I know he’d be an amazing boyfriend from how well he treats Maci, I’ve never pictured him that way. I’m also not looking for a boyfriend, and I’d rather have a genuine friend any day. Even if I were into musicians, he still isn’t my type. I’ve always found myself drawn to the preppy, athletic guys. Unfortunately for me, at least in LA, a lot of those men don’t have attractive personalities. It doesn’t matter either way because I don’t plan on ever falling in love. I watched my mom do it a million times, and the way it destroyed her life doesn’t interest me. “You’re an anomaly when it comes to love. Most people who grow up with crap parents end up in dysfunctional relationships. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. I have no idea how you’re such a romantic.”
“Therapy.Lotsof therapy.” His voice is laced with humor, but I know he’s serious.
“Yeah, yeah. Alcohol helps me.” I push my empty shot glass his way, a pleading and manipulative look in my eyes.
