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“Ha. Danny’s gonna have you joining his yoga parties next.” Harley chuckled loudly, wide grin creasing his craggy face. “You know, it truly is a wonder the two of you turned out normal as you did. And half-decent people to boot. No offense about your old man though. Just saying.”
“Nah. None taken. Hell, half the time, I’m surprised at how I turned out too.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Continuing to hold his dog, Danny bumped my shoulder, which made the small dog give an annoyed squeak. “You worked damn hard at not turning into Dad.”
“Huh.” I let that thought roll around in my head for a moment. I had worked hard. So very hard. For years. And where had it gotten me? A lot of success for sure, but not turning into my father had become a quest that tinged everything else in my life. “I guess I did.”
“And you did a fucking A-plus job.” Harley saluted me with his coffee, but the praise felt about as effective as a freezing cold blanket. What did it matter if I was a good person if I still ended up alone and without the thing I wanted most?
I’d told Ezra that my reputation was all I had, but a reputation couldn’t keep a person warm at night, couldn’t ease the loneliness that had dogged me my whole damn life until Ezra wormed his way into every freezing corner of my previously empty heart. And now my heart was full, and I’d grown too used to being warm and alive, and here I was alone again, and that aloneness hurt. But hey, I had a stellar reputation.
“You okay?” Cash asked as he sprinkled cheese over the top of the pizzas he had lined up on the counter. “Food will be ready for the grill soon, but you don’t look so hot.”
“Nah.” I waved away the concern. “I’m fine. Was just thinking.”
“The LT doesn’t do under the weather. You know that.” Harley chuckled. “But I bet being on the tour probably made him start thinking only in badly rhyming angsty anthems.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Says the guy who believes all good music needs to include a fiddle and a line about a pickup truck.”
“The only variety worth listening to, at least. I know the We Wear Crowns guys are all gazillionaires now, but I’d have a perma-headache by the second show, let alone after a few weeks of that noise on repeat.”
“It’s not that bad,” I countered. “There’s a reason the critics called ‘Dangerous Love’ a generation-defining album.”
“Since when do you listen to We Wear Crowns?” Danny asked as three pairs of wide eyes all stared at me. Four, if one counted the dog.
I could have done a flip F-you type response, but I opened my mouth and words started tumbling out. “Ten years ago. Deployment in the south pacific. Oppressive heat. So humid, everything stuck together—equipment, uniforms, skin. I had this ass of a commanding officer.”
“Oh yeah, I remember ol’ Mumworth,” Harley chimed in.
“Yeah. He took an instant dislike to me.” I didn’t want to get lost in less-than-great memories. Instead, I let myself remember the first time I’d heard Ezra’s voice. “Shit deployment, but the We Wear Crowns debut album had just dropped. I had a copy because I knew it was Danny’s friend. Figured I’d give them a sale. Back stateside, everyone was raving about the music, and I didn’t have a ton of other options on the deployment. So I gave them a listen. Helped me get through the deployment from hell.”
“Oh.” Danny’s eyes were wide as chopper landing pads. “You have to tell Ezra that story.”
“Eh. It’s not that important.” I drained the last of my iced coffee. Like Ezra would ever talk to me again, let alone want to hear my random memory. “I’m probably making more of it than it was. But I’ve listened here and there over the years. Their stuff seems to end up on my playlists, but so do a lot of different genres. I’m not Harley with a twang-only musical diet.”
“Still, that’s sweet.” Harley gave me an overly toothy grin. “And man, you acted like the tour was gonna be pure torture. At least you didn’t hate the assignment.”
“Nah. I didn’t hate it,” I said softly, more to myself than any of the others because Harley was already looking back down at his phone while Danny’s attention had shifted back to Cash, who finally had his platters of pizzas ready for the grill.
Harley and I helped carry the food outside, and then we kicked back while Cash grilled the pizzas, which turned out to be pretty damn delicious. The chewy, yeasty crust perfectly contrasted with the mountain of melted cheese, and there were tons of happy eating noises around Danny’s patio table.
“This is so good I could eat only this for a week.” Danny sighed dramatically and leaned over to give Cash a kiss, practically landing in his lap in the process.
