“No. Not at all.”
“I bought that whole thing. Not just the guitar, but him as a person. I’d never be so careless as to show up alone and I had no intention of going back. But I bought it, Josh. The tears. The story.”
“To be fair, what you bought might be the truth. He might just be an old man who’s lonely and grieving his son.”
“Or I’m simply the worst judge of character.”
“Sounds like you just want to believe the best in people,” he said.
“I’m definitely feeling less guilty about that great price.”
“There you go. Silver lining,” he said. “You hungry? I meant to eat lunch before I came over, but I didn’t.”
“Starving,” she said. It was almost two thirty by then. She hadn’t eaten lunch either, because she’d eaten a late breakfast, but now her stomach rumbled.
“How about Mexican?” he asked, pointing to a restaurant up ahead on the right.
“Perfect,” she said.
Once inside, they sat down at a table and attacked the basket of chips and salsa as soon as the waitress had taken their order.
“How’s your song doing?” Josh asked.
Brian had handled everything to do with uploading their musical masterpiece, which they had jokingly started to call their MM. He’d figured out the album art and the metadata and a whole bunch of other details that Layla had no interest in, but that Brian seemed to love. He’d also set up their social media accounts, and they were planning on doing some live performances on Facebook and Instagram. Neither of them had thought it necessary to come up with a band name, since it was just the two of them, so they were calling themselves Brian and Layla. Brian had asked her if she wanted her name first and said he didn’t care either way, but Brian and Layla rolled off the tongue a little easier and he was the songwriter. It wasn’t the most dynamic name for a duo, but their expectations were so low that neither of them cared. They just wanted to release the song and see if they might find a listener or two in the vast sea of streaming music choices.
Low expectations notwithstanding, once the song was “out there” they metaphorically held their breath waiting to see what would happen, which so far was a big fat nothing. Layla could almost hear their song hitting the ground with a loud thud.
“We’ve had a few downloads,” Layla said. She and Brian could pretty much trace them back to their family members and the friends who knew about the availability of their song and where to find it, but it was still thrilling. “It’s just the passion project of a couple of independent artists, but it scratched an itch for both of us.”
“One of those downloads was mine. I listen to it a lot. I’m a serious fan,” Josh said.
Layla laughed. “You and like eleven others.”
“It’s pretty cool, though. It’s a great song. You and Brian should be proud.” They were proud, and Brian had a few more songs they planned to perform and upload.
When the check came, she tried to grab it, but he was too quick.
“I wanted to pay,” she said. “It’s the least I could do after you took time out of your day to accompany me to the knife house.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“That’s what I’m calling it now.”
“I’ve got it,” he said, handing the bill and his credit card to the waitress.
On the way home, Layla was hoping he might suggest extending their afternoon together into the evening, and she could think of nothing she’d enjoy more than hanging out with him. They could watch a movie again. Take Norton for a walk. But when he pulled into her driveway and put the truck in park, he said, “I’ve got plans with my brothers tonight. Hockey game.”
“That sounds fun.”
“What are you up to? Any plans?”
She patted the guitar case on her lap. “I’m going to disappear into the basement and play this guitar until my fingers bleed,” she said.
“I imagine you’re pretty excited to play it.” He turned his body toward her and rested his arm along the top of her seat.
“I am.”
He asked her a few questions about her guitars, and she answered them and then asked him about his brothers, and all the while the truck ran, and the heater blew out warm air. At one point, he turned it down a little so they wouldn’t overheat. As they talked, Layla found herself sinking back into her seat, her head inches from his arm, as comfortable as if they were sitting in his living room, or hers. Every time she thought they were wrapping it up, one of them would say something else and her body would relax and sink into her seat again.
“I should probably go inside now,” she said, finally. He shrugged one shoulder and tilted his head slightly as if to say, I don’t know. I kind of like having you in my truck. “Thanks again. Have fun at the hockey game.”
“I’ll text you when I get home to let you know which one of my brothers overserved himself.”
She laughed. “I’ll be standing by for that info.”
He studied her face for a few seconds, and she would have loved to be able to read his mind. As she walked inside, she smiled to herself, because Josh had looked an awful lot like he might be thinking about kissing her, and that was almost as intoxicating to her as the kiss itself would be.
chapter 37
Josh
On Monday, Josh texted Layla to ask if she’d be available on Saturday. He’d been thinking about her off and on since the minute she’d gotten out of his truck with her new guitar. She was the first person he thought of when he had free time to spend with someone, and he was trying not to look too far ahead and just enjoy the companionship that the budding relationship provided. He was no longer deluding himself into thinking they were just friends, because any casual observer could take one look at them together and call bullshit on that. There were too many looks shared between them. A little too much casual touching.
Layla had texted Josh back a couple of hours later to say that she was available. He hadn’t elaborated on what they’d be doing, but he showed up at her house on Saturday night with Norton and wine and Chinese takeout from her favorite place—which he was now fully aware of along with her preferred meal (sesame chicken and an egg roll), her favorite wine (pinot noir for now, but when summer finally rolled around she would switch to rosé), and her favorite candy for watching movies (Cinnamon Fire Jolly Ranchers, but if she had popcorn she wanted it mixed with M&M’s).
“Ooooh, takeout and wine,” she said when she opened the door. “I wondered what was on the agenda.”