Page 12

He barely acknowledges her, but she lets his rudeness roll off her. Clearly, she understands it’s not an affront to her but a product of his own demons. I’m surprised again at how well she handles his moodiness. Probably even better than I do.

“So tell me more about being famous rockstars. I want to hear about the groveling,” she directs at me.

I reward her attempt with a weak smile, but the mood has shifted. “Well, it hasn’t been the same without your friend here,that’s for sure. LukewasNight Shifts Black. Without him we’re basically just a sad cover band.”

She leans forward, a spark of interest in her eyes. Maybe they really don’t talk about his celebrity life.

“At least you’re still touring though, right?”

“Yeah, kind of. But we don’t headline much anymore. We can’t sell out a stadium without Luke Craven.”

“Sweeny does fine,” Luke interjects.

I scoff at him, almost angry he’d say that shit to me.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply sarcastically. “They’re your songs, bro. No one will ever be able to handle them like you do.”

Luke lowers his gaze, and I suppress a grunt of frustration. If he’s this temperamental and unpredictable at all their encounters, Callie is even more of a saint than I thought.

I feel her intense gaze again, but don’t acknowledge it. Maybe she’s irritated with me as well. If she doesn’t know his story, she certainly doesn’t know mine. Heaven knows what Luke has told her… or more likely,hasn’ttold her about me.

The server returns with our drinks, and by his expression, he shares my concern that this meal will be ending before it begins.

“Did you decide on your orders?” His hesitant tone confirms that he’s pretty sure the answer is“Check, please.”

We all focus on Luke, watching him with some tacit understanding that the fate of the next step rests with him. His gaze is fixated on a chair at the neighboring table. I’ve seen his attention float to that ugly piece of furniture a few times now.

Good to know a chair is more important than we are.

“I’ll have the French toast,” he says, directing his attention back to us.

Shocked, I look between Callie and him.

“Same,” Callie says, casually shutting her menu like the weirdness of the last two minutes didn’t happen.

The server still has a skeptical look on his face as he scribbles on his pad. His questioning look lands on me.

“What the hell, why not?” I flip the menu in his direction as well.

He takes it and adds it to the others. “Okay, three French toasts it is. Anything else?”

We shake our heads, and he takes off toward the kitchen.

“Do you think he has to go to counseling now because of us?” Callie asks Luke.

His lips tip up in a smile. “He’s at least insisted on a raise.”

She grins, and wow…

She brought him back.

I scan the two of them with renewed interest. Maybe I need to ask this woman—someone he’s known for days, if not hours—for some lessons on how to handle my best friend I’ve known half my life.

For now, the safest bet is a subject change.

“So has my boy here told you about his other passion?” I ask Callie.

“You mean, besides music?”