I took a couple of quick, deep breaths to calm myself down. I could hardly believe that now, almost four years too late, Brett Kline was talking to me like I’d once wanted him to. We were out in public together, having a meal, almost like a date. It was messing with my head, which was already confused and scattered because of Gideon.
“I had the biggest crush on you, Brett. I wrote your name with little hearts around it like a lovesick teenager. I wanted desperately to be your girlfriend.”
“Are you kidding me?” He reached out and caught my hand. “What the fuck happened, then?”
I looked down at where he was absently twirling the ring Gideon had given me. “Remember when we went to the pool hall?”
“Yeah. How could I forget that?” He bit his lower lip, clearly recalling how I’d fucked his brains out in the back of his car, determined to be the best lay he’d ever had so he wouldn’t bother with other girls. “I thought we were getting to the point where we’d start seeing each other outside the bar, but you ditched me the minute we got inside.”
“I went to the bathroom,” I said quietly, remembering the pain and embarrassment as if the incident had just happened, “and when I came out you and Darrin were at the change machine getting quarters for the tables. Your back was to me so you didn’t see me. I heard you guys talking . . . and laughing.”
I pulled in a deep breath and tugged my hand away from him.
To his credit, Brett shifted in obvious embarrassment. “I can’t remember exactly what was said, but . . . Shit, Eva. I was twenty-one years old. The band was just starting to get popular. The chicks were everywhere.”
“I know,” I said dryly. “I was one of them.”
“I’d been with you a few times by then. Bringing you along to the pool hall made a statement to the guys that things were picking up between us.” He rubbed at his brow in a very familiar gesture. “I didn’t have the balls to own up to how I was feeling about you. I made it about the sex, but that wasn’t true.”
I lifted my glass and drank, forcing down the lump in my throat.
His hand dropped onto the armrest. “So I screwed it up with my big mouth. That’s why you bailed that night. That’s why you never went anywhere with me again.”
“I was desperate, Brett,” I admitted, “but I didn’t want to show it.”
The waiter brought our food. I wondered why I’d ordered anything—I was too unsettled to eat.
Brett started cutting into his steak, attacking it really. Suddenly, he set his knife and fork down. “I blew it back then, but now everyone knows what was going on in my head at the time. ‘Golden’ is our biggest single. It’s what got us signed with Vidal.”
The idea of closure made me smile. “It’s a beautiful song, and your voice sounds amazing when you sing it. I’m really glad you came up and saw me again before you head out. It means a lot to me that we talked through this.”
“What if I don’t want to just head out and move on?” He took a deep breath and released it in a rush. “You’ve been my muse the last few years, Eva. Because of you, I’ve written the best material the band’s ever had.”
“That’s very flattering,” I began.
“We sizzled together. Still do. I know you feel it. The way you kissed me the other night . . .”
“That was a mistake.” My hands clenched beneath the table. I couldn’t deal with more drama. I couldn’t go through another night like Friday. “And you need to think about the fact that Gideon controls your label. You don’t want any friction there.”
“Fuck it. What’s he going to do?” His fingertips drummed onto the table. “I want another shot with you.”
I shook my head and reached for my purse. “That’s impossible. Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’m not the right girl for your lifestyle, Brett. I’m too high-maintenance.”
“I remember,” he said roughly. “God, do I remember.”
I flushed. “That’s not what I meant.”