Page 13 of Hard Rock Muse

When we were situated in a booth with menus in our hands, Julian broke the silence again. It was weird hearing him talk so much.

“What have you been up to?” he asked.

I looked at him over the menu. “Up to?”

“News about Ever Darling has been scarce,” he said. “I thought maybe you had your head down, working on a new album.”

Julian had been thinking about me. Wondering how I’d been doing.

“No,” I said. “No new album.”

“So you did quit music?” he asked. “Just like that?”

I looked down at my menu, avoiding his gaze. “Just like that.”

“I thought you’d never give it up,” he said, repeating his earlier words.

“I needed a change.”

“Drastic change,” he said. “You were getting big. People were lining up to work with you.”

Julian stared at me. His dark eyes were penetrating, as if trying to unravel all my secrets. I remembered staring into those eyes for hours, lying in bed together, arms and legs tangled, a sweaty mess of limbs, basking in the afterglow.

Heat rose within me, memories bringing forth feelings I’d long forgotten. I inhaled a slow breath to calm myself, trying not to squirm in my seat. I closed the menu and set it on the table.

“I’m ready to order,” I said.

Julian closed his own menu and set it down, indicating he was ready as well. I looked around for the waiter to call him over.

“How’s Abby?” Julian asked.

I relaxed with a soft smile. “She’s doing great. She’s in college now.”

“Little Abby, already in college?” Julian shook his head. “When did we get so old?”

“I still think of her as that awkward little tween,” I confessed. “She hates it.”

“It’s hard to cut the apron strings, huh?” he asked.

“I’m not that bad,” I said. “It’s not like I tried to give her a curfew or anything.”

“I can’t imagine she’d take well to that.”

“She’s a good girl,” I said. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders. I just worry, like all big sisters.”

Julian nodded in understanding, although he was an only child.

The waiter appeared and we stopping talking. I ordered several rolls and a side of edamame. Julian did the same, although his side was bowl of beef and rice.

The waiter wrote down our order carefully and deliberately, taking his time. I caught him staring at Julian with quick peeks. I wondered if he would say something, but he simply left with a nod once he’d finished scribbling on his notepad.

“I think he recognized you,” I said.

“Doubt it,” Julian said. “Cerise and Nathan are the face of Cherry Lips. No one cares about the keyboardist.”

“That’s not true,” I protested.

“Name one famous rock star who plays keys,” he said with quirk of his lips.