Page 84 of Resonance

I sighed. “How’d he get over it?”

“I didn’t.” Quinn’s quiet chuckle drew my attention as he wandered into the kitchen and wrapped an arm low around Ru’s waist. I had a hard time not staring at his fingers as they caressed Ru’s hip possessively. “I just got better about distracting myself, focusing on my own stuff.”

I made a face. “That’s like one of those useless advice columns where nothing is actually answered. ‘Find a distraction! Take up a hobby! Go get your hair done!’”

Quinn tried to suppress a smile and failed. “All right, fair, totally fair. Here’s the thing. It was eating me up, and I was tired of it and I honestly can’t say exactly when it changed or how—and it was slow, too, not all at once, but gradually. I figured Ru’s gonna do what he’s gonna do. I can’t change that. I can either trust him or I can’t. And he’s never given me a reason not to, so I figured why make myself miserable with the what-ifs? If he fucks up, then I’ll kick his ass, but until that happens, I’m not gonna sit here and let that shit take up space in my head rent-free, you know?”

I got what he said and all, but it didn’t really help.

“I can tell you don’t want to get into it, and that’s totally fine, but I will say, Dan wouldn’t break his word,” Ru said gently.

“I know.” The thing was, there wasn’t even any word to break. I didn’t even know what Dan and I were. Which was entirely my fault, I guess. Ugh. I was crushing myself in my own insecurity sandwich.

Ru gotme set up on their couch with blankets and a pillow, and I listened to the sound of him and Quinn getting ready for bed—the running water, soft voices, occasional laughter. It was cozy and quiet and comforting in a way, and I was glad I’d decided to stay over.

I picked up my phone when it chimed.

Dan:We’re doing interviews late. Wanted to check in though.

Owen:All good. Great show tonight.

Dan:You watch it at Ru’s?

Owen:Yep. Y’all looked good up there.

Dan:We try.

It was innocent, that “we,” or I thought it was, so why did it sit down in the back of my mind like an uninvited guest reeking of BO?

I thought I’d mentally prepared myself for Dan to go on tour, made myself confront a thousand different scenarios, steeled my heart against the idea that he might get out there and fall in love with touring all over again. Or maybe even Ryder. Ryder, who could command a stage. Who didn’t rush through his sentences. Who swaggered around and just knew that the world was invested in what he had to say.

Ryder, who Dan had once loved.

But how could I be upset with Dan for either of those things if they made him happy? And then when I thought I detected the faintest whiff of the worst-case scenario, I’d gotten jealous anyway. Talk about backfire.

I wrinkled my nose at myself and fired off a good-night text back to Dan, then put my phone on silent so I wouldn’t be tempted to see if he responded.

I swear, sometimes I wished my heart had come with a kickstand.

Chapter 28

“Your keys are still out on the register,” Ivy said, giving me a smile as she fiddled with the strap of her bag. I’d left them with her earlier when I’d gone to get lunch in case she needed to get into the Hoard. “Sure you don’t want me to grab you something before I go?”

I shook my head. “I’m good.” I had my guitar in my lap and had made myself cozy in one of the armchairs in the conversation pit at the front corner of the shop, the beginnings of a verse running through my head on repeat.

“All right. See you Thursday, then.” She gave me a little wave and left me in the comfortable afternoon quiet of the shop. It’d been a slow day altogether, and with a few hours left until closing time, I didn’t think that would change, so I planned on taking advantage of the slow pace and seeing if I could coax the single verse into a larger song.

I worked for the next couple of hours, strumming chords in fits and starts, meandering through different progressions, then switching from guitar to notebook and pencil, trying out various rhyme schemes, zero rhyming, a few choruses. I couldn’t seem to anchor the song to anything good, though, and when it was time to close, I took a break, setting my guitar aside, locking the door and then going to the register to collect the sales slips and cash for the deposit envelope, which I would drop off on the way home. No, not home—Dan’s place.I corrected the dangerous thought.

I turned off all but the storage room light and returned to the conversation pit, retrieving my guitar and sitting in the darkness. One streetlight glowed and blinked intermittently, and I watched the pattern of its wan light flicker on the floor, then closed my eyes.

He served in the court of kings

Spent his days interpreting someone else’s dreams,

Nights wishing for his own.

It wasn’t my usual fare, more a storyteller vibe and a little melancholy, but it kept bothering me, begging me to fill it out.