Aural Stimulation took the stage, and though the bar was crowded, no one seemed to notice. Alex’s bass drum throbbed a few lazy times while the bassist, Ted, walked his fingers up and down the neck of his bass. Dane slid his Native American-patterned guitar strap over his head, played a quick albeit complicated riff, and then gave the band a nod. Alex returned the gesture and crashed his drumsticks together overhead, and the band lapsed into a cover of “Casey Jones.”
Kimber’s legs bounced in time to the music, partially out of nervousness regarding what the evening might bring and partially because she could never stop herself from moving with the beat. Despite his flaws, Dane was a phenomenal guitar player, his heroes being Jimmy Page and Stevie Ray Vaughn, and his talent transcended dive bars in northeast Pennsylvania. Kimber watched him play his guitar, stroke the strings, and she recalled how badly she used to want him to have a similar intensity about her. She’d wanted him to love her like music and couldn’t understand why it had been so hard.
“Thank you both, you’re too kind,” Dane quipped in a monotone as the song closed to the response of less than a quarter of the patrons half-heartedly clapping. He paused to take a swig of his whiskey, which rested in his microphone stand’s drink holder. “This next song was written about Catherine the Great’s horse.” Aural Stimulation’s rendition of “Hash Pipe” soon blasted from the amplifiers.
Kimber downed her drink and beckoned the bartender over for another, the whiskey’s warmth spreading through her, and a lazy, lighthearted pleasure took rule of her heart. This wasn’t so bad. This was even fun. She was out on the town, getting tipsy and listening to a good cover band. She was even happy Dane was around, thankful for his reassuring predictability and that she no longer had expectations of him. It freed her to see that he wasn’t really a bad person, just someone who wasn’t right for her, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She was alive and doing okay, had made it past the end.
No sooner had Kimber decided to enjoy the night, no matter what, her fitness-friendly neighbor’s sudden appearance shocked all the toasty happiness from her body.
“Hey there!” Taryn hugged her with a fierceness their relationship hardly warranted. “I didn’t even see you come in. When did you get here?”
“Only a little bit ago.” The now familiar unease and horror returned to Kimber as Taryn released her. “What about you?”
“We got here about twenty minutes ago.” Taryn gestured between herself and the man beside her, ordering drinks, and it wasn’t until he looked her way that Kimber registered the man as Jay. Her heart halted like a needle scratching to a stop across a record, her mind white at his transition from her daydreams to standing right in front of her.
To make matters worse, he tossed his chin her way. “Hey, Kim. How’s it going?”
“Great, you?” The words left her in a rush although she couldn’t wrap her mind around their meaning, so stunned was she at Jay’s friendly ambivalence. It was like she was a stranger, like he hadn’t known her for years, like he hadn’t ever poured his heart out to her, like he’d never been inside her, making her come. She forced herself to behave the same and ignore the swell of guttural screams now looping through her head.
Taryn’s eyes sparkled as she bobbed her head, perhaps a bit too vigorously. “Everything’s going good. Really good.”
“Have you heard from Brad?” Kimber asked, hoping that Taryn had, that her neighbors’ love life would resolve and stop intruding on hers. Not that Jay was in her love life but-
“No.” A dark, sad look filled Taryn’s light green eyes, and Kimber regretted saying anything at all-until Taryn beamed and patted Jay on the back. “No, I’m not going to think of him tonight.”
Kimber forced a weak smile, keeping her gaze on Taryn’s face and refusing to let it drift in Jay’s direction.
“Hey, we’re sitting at a table near the stage,” Taryn added. “You should definitely join us.”
“No, that’s okay. You guys go ahead.” Kimber heard herself speak and felt her lips move, but she couldn’t comprehend the situation, which felt like an out-of-body experience. Here congregated a group of people, everyone being polite, and no one saying what was truly going on. She clasped her hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I’m waiting for the guitar player to finish up.” She nodded toward Dane, not wanting to catch Jay’s response. Suddenly, the idea of making him jealous was unattractive-especially since he didn’t seem inclined to be jealous at all.
“Okay,” Taryn said as the bartender set two beers before Jay, who instructed they be put on his tab before picking them up and handing one to Taryn. “Well, come join us if you want. You know where to find us.”
Jay gave her an easy smile. “If we don’t see you, have a good night.” Then he and Taryn disappeared into the crowd, back to the two-person world they’d apparently created for themselves.
Kimber chugged the whiskey the bartender had placed in front of her, hoping it’d make her feel better but hating that it made no difference at all. She had made a huge mistake.
Jay slid into his seat beside Taryn, wondering if it was possible to feel any shittier. The last thing he felt like doing was making small talk with and blowing his paycheck on a girl he wasn’t in any way interested in while listening to a cover band he hated for personal reasons, but here he was.
Actually, that was the second-to-last thing he wanted to do. The first was seeing Kimber dance in her seat with a faraway smile on her face, contented by her own company and awaiting fucking Dane, as always, apparently harboring no anguish regarding their recently dissolved friendship and the obliteration of anything romantic between them. Confirmation of this had come in the form of her reaction to seeing him with Taryn. After everything they’d been through, she could hardly pretend to give a shit about any of it, so he’d acted similarly. What other choice did he have? He’d laid all his cards on the table, and it hadn’t made any difference whatsoever.
He longed to call it a night and head home to his bed and a bottle of SoCo. Getting blitzed at home and allowing himself to fully immerse in his misery sounded far more appealing than feigning happiness. But feigning happiness was exactly what he intended to do. He wasn’t going to let Kimber see how her rejection affected him again. He would put on the face of a Spartan warrior and suck it up. She’d made it clear it was over between them, so it was time he recognize that, accept it, and act accordingly, no matter how fucking wrong it felt.
When Dane left the stage for the band’s second break, Kimber threw herself in his arms, even though his clothes were soaked with sweat. “You were fantastic. I loved that last song.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up. “We were wondering if anyone would notice that we snuck an original in the set list. It’s new, we wrote it about two weeks ago.”
“It was brilliant.” It had been okay, but Kimber imagined Jay’s eyes on them and kept the awed, flirty smile on her face. She wondered why she felt the overwhelming need to prove Jay was so unimportant to her that she would even prefer Dane’s company to his. That wasn’t what friends did to each other when they stopped being friends.
“Brilliant?” Dane looked so delighted and boyish that Kimber wished she’d meant the compliment. His expression softened with affection. “Thanks, bables.”
“You’re welcome.” She nudged him with her hip. “Now how about buying your biggest fan a drink?”