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As they walk ahead, Keane falls into step beside me. “Good day?” he asks quietly.
“A lot better than I thought it would be,” I admit.
His eyes flick to Justine, who’s now engrossed in Chandler’s aquarium stories. “You two seem . . . close?”
I shrug. “She was sort of there when all this shit started so I think she gets it.”
“Makes sense,” he says. “Just be careful, Quinn.”
I look at him and roll my eyes. “She’s a friend, colleague. Not to mention, she’s way too young.”
Keane laughs and pats me on my shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He looks at me, wide eyed, and then shakes his head. “Do you not see what’s right in front of you?”
My gaze goes from him to Justine, and then back to Keane. I shake my head slowly because all I see is a friend, who may not fit in with her bandmates because of jealously.
“Justine likes you, Quinn. More than a friend or coworker. She has feelings for you.”
I glance over at her. She’s crouched down next to Chandler and they’re looking at the clown fish swimming around. “We’re just friends.”
“Just friends?” Keane raises an eyebrow at me. “Sure, you are. We’re friends, but I didn’t come knocking on your door this morning with a whole sightseeing route already planned out, without the rest of my band joining us. Nor do I seek you out for long conversations in the dead of night.”
“We were writing songs,” I protest because that’s exactly what it was. Two songwriters combining words and music.
“Quinn, come on. Shelikesyou. It’s obvious to everyone except you.” Keane runs his hand over his beanie, glancing over his shoulder at the girls before turning back to me. “Look, just be careful. It’s not just a broken heart at stake. It’s livelihoods as well if something happens and it goes south.”
His words give me pause. This entire time I’ve seen Justine as a colleague, a friend. Over the past few months, she’s been my sounding board for new work, and always there whenever I need . . .
Fuck.
Keane chuckles, and it’s like everything falls into place. Whatever is happening between Justine and me feels fragile, tentative, like a new melody still finding its rhythm. I’m not ready to name it yet, but I can’t deny it’s there. For the rest of the tour, I walk around in some kind of daze, not paying attentionto the various marine animals, and more thinking about every single interaction I’ve had with Justine lately.
After an extensive tour of the aquarium, we have dinner at a seafood restaurant near the harbor, sharing stories and laughing over Chandler’s impression of the sea lions. Dana suggests checking out a local music venue after dinner, but Keane declines, citing a good night’s sleep and someone’s test tomorrow with her online tutor.
“You guys go ahead,” he says. “We’ll head back to the hotel.”
Dana looks disappointed but doesn’t argue.
“Actually, I’m pretty wiped out,” I say. “I’m calling it a night?”
Dana studies us suspiciously. “Seriously? It’s only eight o’clock.”
“Long day of walking and we have a show tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” Justine yawns and stretches her arms.
“Fine,” Dana sighs. “I’ll find Hendrix and Ajay. They’re always up for trouble.” She’s not wrong, except it’s usually Hendrix getting Ajay into trouble.
Back at the hotel, Keane and Chandler decide to head for ice cream, leaving Justine and me alone, In the elevator, she leans against the wall, watching the floor numbers illuminate one by one.
“You didn’t have to cut your night short because of me,” I tell her.
“I didn’t,” she replies, glancing up at me. “I just wanted . . .”
The elevator doors open on our floor, interrupting whatever she was about to say. We walk down the hallway in comfortable silence, stopping outside her room.