A muscle jumped in Nell’s jaw. “If you’ve got something to say, Andre, do me a favor and just say it.”
Tonight, Andre wore a particularly cool plaid button-down shirt, hair slicked back. He stopped, focus entirely on Nell. His eyes softened, face not unkind. “Baby girl, you fucked up not fixing your marriage. Pat fucked up giving up on you too easy. Hell, Eric fucked up ever going near you, knowing what the situation was between you two. You know all of this. But if you think for a minute that I don’t love you and haven’t got your back, then you’re crazy. I’ll babysit and change shitty diapers if I have to and I fully expect to be godfather, understood?”
Nell hurriedly looked away, sucking in her cheeks. Trying to hold back tears, I’d guess. After waiting a second or two, Andre strode over, throwing his arms around her. The way she clung to him couldn’t have failed to move anyone. That kind of unwavering love and support was what I wanted. It was why I was staying here. That’s what Vaughan was giving up by yet again leaving. And the longing, the naked emotion on his face showed he knew it, how couldn’t he?
It was the price he paid to follow his dream.
My dream wasn’t as grand as stardom on the stage. I didn’t want to be a rock-and-roll icon. I wanted home and community, a job where I could excel and financially build a future for myself. Sure, if a fairy godmother came along and bonked me on the head with her wand, giving me instant glamour and success as a plus-size model, I’d deal. It would be fun, but it wasn’t what my heart yearned for.
“I’m not changing shitty diapers, tell you that much,” Mal announced.
“Amen.” Joe raised his glass of scotch and they toasted to the sentiment.
“Pussies,” I said.
“How are all of the Stage Dive babies doing?” asked Vaughan, accepting his own glass of scotch off Joe.
You had to give it to the guy, Malcolm Ericson did an amazing impression of someone slowly choking to death. By the time his head thunked down on top of the bar, I almost clapped.
“That well, huh?”
Mal groaned. “V-man, if I have to look at one more too cute baby video I’m going to, shit, I’m going to lose it. I just can’t take it anymore. I mean, congratulations to them. Their boys can swim. But I don’t need to see every fucking thing the fruit of their loins does, you know?”
He stopped to drain the last third of his beer, handing the glass back across the bar for a refill. “I told Pumpkin straight out. I said, my sperm is not to be used for these purposes for quite some years, thank you very much.”
“How’d she take it?” I asked.
“She laughed at me.” Mal frowned. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really in charge at all.”
“That’s the problem with settling down,” said Vaughan, arms crossed over his chest. “She’s got the *. You want it. Might as well just say goodbye to being your own boss.”
“That’s your view of relationships?” I tipped my head. A fresh angle achieved nothing, however. He remained a puzzle I could never solve. One that sadly made my heart beat double time. “Seriously?”
“This should be good,” said Joe, staring into his drink.
Some snickering from Mal.
Oh good. We had everyone’s attention. Andre stood beside Nell, an arm wrapped around her waist. Vaughan had assumed the old blank face. Eyes open and guileless, arms hanging loose at his sides. And yeah, no. We didn’t need to do this. I didn’t need to know.
I smiled, shook my head. “Forget I said that. A toast!”
Everyone held up their glasses apart from Vaughan. I avoided his gaze, getting on with my life—accepting situations I couldn’t change, fighting the inevitable wasted valuable time and energy.
“To Vaughan,” I announced, holding my soda and lime high. I wasn’t afraid to meet his perfect blue eyes. Not now. Time to pull my big girl panties up and move on. “Safe travels and musical glory. I hope all of your dreams come true.”
Compliments and similar wishes were spoken. Drinks were drunk.
“You’re not going with him?” asked Mal, voice subdued as conversations continued around us.
“No. We’ve only known each other a week. It’s not … and I’m hoping to become a bigger part of things in the Dive Bar.” My smile felt staged for some reason. Not that I was lying. “I like it here.”
He tipped his chin and said no more. The understanding in his eyes, I didn’t like it. Shit, I barely knew the man. I could really do without parading my dumbass heart in front of international rock stars.
“Do you spend much time in Coeur d’Alene?” I asked, eager to change the topic of conversation.
Mal smiled. “Yeah, I’ve got family here. Bought a place on the lake. You should come over sometime. Meet Pumpkin. I think you two would get along and it’d be good for her to know some people in town. We’re spending a bit more time here these days.”