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Blackmore gets into the passenger seat and steals a quick look at me. Suddenly, I worry that I may appear boring. Such nonsense. I don’t care what he’ll think about me. Or what he already thinks about me.
Hal drives us to one of those pubs, bars, whatever you call them that are open until wicked hours in the night. We get a table, and the guys order food to feed a party of ten. I expect Hal to get a gallon of beer to go with all of it, but he settles for an iced water with a lemon wedge. Blackmore does the same.
“No alcohol?” I mock them. Hal is a big fan of anything that has the label of “ale” attached to it.
“This one”—Hal nods toward Blackmore—“is bad company when he’s drunk.”
Blackmore nods without a hint of self-consciousness. Even such a personal detail can’t unbalance his cool attitude. Can anything? I almost want to try and find out.
“So you’re a typical rock star,” I say to him. “In love with the stage and fond of alcoholic oblivion.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m fond of it. And I’m not in love with the stage, but we do get along.” Blackmore holds my gaze, challenging me to deliver another dig. “What’s wrong with me being in a band?”
“Who said there was anything wrong with it?” I look out the dark window. Not much to see there. A dark street with cars passing by now and then. In all fairness, Blackmore’s overconfident mug is a much better view.
My eyes drift back to him. His baseball cap is back, casting deep shadows onto his face. The shadows in turn accentuate a small scar that crosses the side of his chin, filling my head with speculations. He plays guitar, but I get a fighter vibe from him as well. He’s got the right build—lean and serious. How did he get that scar? A bar fight? An accident? An accidental bar fight?
Blackmore’s eyes meet mine, and I hurry to look away again.
“You were nice earlier,” he says. “Now you want to throw me into a volcano. Wait. No. You wish I threw myself into a volcano.”
I laugh. How can he make me laugh when I’m set on disliking him?
“You’re totally right,” Hal says. “She hates everyone who even thinks of guitars. Or microphones. Or royalties.”
“You’re so helpful.” I heap on the sarcasm.
Hal responds by means of an entertained smile. He knows I don’t appreciate his comments.
A waiter brings us water and the first appetizer—a platter of loaded nachos.
Blackmore pushes a serious portion of nachos onto his own plate. “You hate performers?”
“I should clarify,” Hal goes on before I manage to say a word. “Show biz is her worst nightmare and her fiercest enemy. That’s what Laurel hates.”
“Can I talk for myself, please?” I slide the rest of the food closer to myself, out of his reach.
“You won’t. You prefer to suffer in silence.”
Embarrassment makes it impossible for me to check on Blackmore’s reaction to this unfolding insanity. I keep my eyes on the food as I struggle to scoop a bit of everything with a chip soggy from salsa. “Hal, I’ll punch you in the nose.”
“Go ahead.” He leans across the table and offers me his face.
I smash a clump of messy nachos against his mouth as an alternative, but Hal being Hal, he gobbles it up and steals another chip from the platter.
“What happened?” Blackmore asks me. “What turned you so anti-music?”
“I’m not anti-music. I still compose.” I glare at him, but he stares right back, calm and unfazed, as if his questions haven’t sliced me in pieces. Is he the one Hal called a reprobate? Blackmore sure fits the description.
Hal jumps back into the verbal fray. “Laurel believes people are still out to throw rotten tomatoes at her, and that every guy wants only one thing.”
“Which one?” Blackmore’s eyes leave my face and do a quick scan of my body. “I can think of several options.”
He did not. Just. Imply—
Hal elbows him in the ribs on my behalf. At least he tries to. Blackmore blocks my cousin’s arm and pushes it away. Hal rolls his eyes and explains, “They want her dad.”
“Her dad?” Blackmore checks his watch and taps off the notifications, as though we’re talking about grocery lists and similarly boring things, not my life. “Makes sense. He’s everyone’s favorite. He’s kind of my hero too.”
